Chapter 362
My hands trembled slightly as I reached for the latch. The lid creaked open, revealing a bed of midnight-blue velvet. Resting upon it was a necklace that stole the breath from my lungs. A massive, teardrop-shaped moonstone sat at the center, flanked by intricate diamond lacework that looked like frozen starlight.
“The Moon’s Tear,” Gigi announced, her eyes locking onto mine. “It has been worn by every Marshall Luna since the founding of this pack. It is said to be blessed by the Goddess herself, granting clarity and protection to the mother of the pack.”
I stared at the stone. It seemed to pulse with a faint inner light — a heartbeat of magic that I, as a wolfless girl, had no right to touch. It felt too heavy, too sacred. It was a collar of duty disguised as jewelry.
“Gigi, I…” I started, my voice failing. “I don’t have a wolf. I can’t wear something so…”
“You are the Alpha King’s mate,” Gigi cut in, her tone brooking no argument. “That is the only qualification that matters in this room. It belongs to the Mistress of the House.”
Before I could protest further, Dallas moved. He reached into the box, his large, calloused fingers brushing against the delicate silver chain. He lifted the necklace, the moonstone swinging like a pendulum as it caught the light.
“Turn around, Adella,” he murmured.
I obeyed, sweeping my hair off my neck. The air in the room felt suddenly thin. I felt the cold metal settle against my skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Dallas’s body behind me.
Then his fingertips grazed the nape of my neck as he fastened the clasp.
The Spark.
It wasn’t just a static shock — it was a bolt of lightning that surged down my spine, curling my toes and sending a rush of warmth straight to my core. My breath hitched. Even without a wolf, my body knew him. My soul knew him.
“It belongs to you,” Dallas whispered, his lips brushing the sensitive skin behind my ear. His voice dropped an octave, a low rumble that vibrated through my chest. I shivered, grounding myself in his scent — cedar, rain, and raw power. For a moment, the weight of the Matriarch’s presence faded, replaced by the intoxicating reality of the bond.
“Oh, wow.” A soft voice broke the spell.
We all turned. Azalea was leaning forward, her eyes wide and sparkling as she gazed at the matching earrings still nestled in the velvet box. They were smaller teardrops, equally exquisite.
“They’re beautiful,” Azalea breathed, an innocent smile lighting up her face. She looked at Gigi, her earlier unease forgotten in the face of such loveliness. “Gigi, the Full Moon Festival is coming up… do you think maybe I could borrow the earrings? Just for the night? They would match my dress perfectly.”
The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.
Gigi turned her head slowly, her eyes narrowing into slits. The satisfied matriarch was gone, replaced by the unyielding gatekeeper of the bloodline.
“Borrow them?” Gigi repeated, the word tasting like ash in her mouth.
Azalea’s smile faltered. “I… I just thought—”