Chapter 22
_Mira’s POV_
The day before the Selene festival, everyone in the pack was busy. All around me,
people moved quickly, setting up tables, arranging flowers, and hanging decorations.
I was assigned to help with the white lilies. White was a symbol of purity, a tribute to the Moon Goddess. Every year, white filled the packhouse and the surrounding
territory, a sign of the goddess’s grace.
I smiled as I placed the lilies along the windows and tables, their soft petals almost
glowing in the sunlight. As I worked, I felt a calm settle over me. The flowers
reminded me of home, of celebrations from years ago, and for a moment, I forgot my
worries.
“Mira,” one of the other pack members called, handing me a garland of lilies, “this
needs to go over the column by the front door. Could you help with that?”
“Of course,” I said, taking the garland. But when I got to the column, I realized it was
too high. I couldn’t reach it, even on my tiptoes.
I found a ladder nearby and climbed up, steadying myself as I tried to place the garland over the column. But just as I stretched to hang it, I lost my balance. I gasped, bracing myself for the fall. I was sure I had hit the ground hard, but instead, I felt
strong arms around me.
“Mira!” Aaron’s voice was close, his arms wrapped securely around me as he set me
down. “No more climbing ladders. You have done enough work for today.”
I looked up, my cheeks warm. “Thank you, Aaron. I…I didn’t expect you to be here.”
He smiled, his expression softening. “I was looking for you, actually. I wanted to show you something.” He took my hand, guiding me through the busy crowd of pack
members. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?” I asked, feeling a bit nervous.
“You will see.” He led me up the stairs, stopping in front of a large wooden door. His room, I realized. I had never been inside. It was the Alpha’s private room, a place I imagined was off limits and reserved.
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He opened the door and guided me inside. My eyes widened as I took in the room. Red and gold were everywhere–the bedspread, the curtains, even the walls had touches of gold patterns. The room was grand, almost royal, and it was larger than any other room I had seen in the packhouse.
Aaron walked over to a table near the bed and picked up a box. He turned back to me,
his eyes full of anticipation. “This is for you.”
He opened the box, revealing a dress inside. It was pure white, flowing like water, with
delicate lace around the sleeves and neckline. Tiny silver beads caught the light,
making the dress shimmer.
I stared, speechless. “Aaron…this is beautiful.”
“I wanted you to have something special for the festival,” he said, smiling. “I thought
white would suit you.”
I touched the fabric, feeling its softness under my fingers. “Thank you, Aaron. I don’t
know what to say.”
He chuckled, closing the box and handing it to me. “Just wear it tomorrow. It’ll look
perfect on you.”
“I will,” I said softly. “Thank you.”
As I left his room, my heart was racing. It was strange, the feelings stirring inside me. I felt nervous but happy, and maybe…hopeful. I held the box tightly, making my way
down the hallway back to my own room.
But then something caught my eye–a small portrait on the wall. I stopped, my heart skipping a beat. It was a painting of a blonde woman, her face delicate and her eyes bright. I knew her. I had seen her in my dream.
“Isabella,” I whispered, barely able to breathe.
In my shock, I let the box slip from my hands, and it hit the floor with a loud thud.
“Mira?” Aaron’s voice came from around the corner, and he rushed toward me. His face was full of worry. “What is wrong? Are you hurt?”
I pointed at the portrait, my hand trembling. “Who…who is that?”
He glanced at the painting, his expression unreadable. “Oh, her? That’s just…
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someone from the pack’s history. One of my ancestors, I think. Why?”
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1 swallowed, feeling a strange chill. “I…I saw her. In a dream. She was crying, calling out to me. She was in so much suffering. I don’t understand.”
He furrowed his brow, studying me closely, “You dreamed about her?” he asked
slowly, as if trying to piece something together,
“Yes.” My voice was barely above a whisper. “It felt so real, like she was trying to
reach me.”
Aaron hesitated, his face a mixture of confusion and something else I couldn’t quite place. “That’s…odd, I don’t know much about her. She is just an old relative, as far as I
know.”
I looked at him, feeling an unsettling sensation settle over me. “Do you think it means something?”
He shook his head, his eyes holding mine. “I don’t think so, Mira. Our brains make up strange dreams when we are stressed.” He placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You should just forget about it.”
I nodded, grateful for his support. But questions raced through my mind, each one more unsettling than the last. Why would this ancestor reach out to me? What did she want, and why did it feel so real? Why did I dream of her getting raped and murdered?
As I looked back at Aaron, I sensed he wasn’t telling me everything. There was something in his eyes–something guarded. And though I wanted answers, I wasn’t sure I was ready for what they might reveal.
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