The Royal Alpha

Chapter 31: The Claiming Ceremony [Part 3]

A long, powerful howl cuts through the night.

It rises from the forest like a command woven into instinct itself—ancient, resonant, impossible to ignore. Conversations in the meeting hall fall silent at once, drinks are set aside, and bodies begin to move as one toward the clearing where the ceremony will take place.

The full moon hangs high above us, unobstructed by clouds, its silver light spilling freely across the grounds as though the Moon Goddess herself has chosen to bear witness. The night feels charged—heavy with promise, expectation, and the fragile hope of new beginnings.

Chairs have been arranged in careful order across the clearing. The front rows are reserved for the families of the mates-to-be, followed by rows for Alphas and Betas of visiting packs. The trainees—including me—are seated farther back, close enough to see everything, yet far enough to remain observers rather than participants.

I walk alongside my parents as the crowd begins to flow toward the clearing.

"My baby is all grown up," my father murmurs softly, stopping for a moment to cup my face. "You look beautiful, Sierra."

He kisses my forehead, and I hug him tightly, inhaling the familiar scent that has always meant safety to me.

My mother's eyes trail over my dress, narrowing just a fraction. "That dress looks... familiar," she says slowly. "Did you sneak it into your bag when you came here?"

I hesitate, then nod. "Yes. I did. I didn't know if I'd need it, but... I'm glad I brought it."

She studies me for another second, then sighs, shaking her head. "You always were prepared in your own quiet way."

My father clears his throat gently. "Come on. Let's take our seats."

"Oh—no," I say quickly, stopping them. "You're the Beta couple of our pack. Your seats are in the front rows. I'm a trainee here—I have to sit where we're assigned."

My mother looks as though she wants to argue, but my father nods instead. "Alright. Then we'll at least have dinner together afterward. We leave tomorrow, after all."

"Yes," I say softly. "After the ceremony. The Elders will bless the mates before they go into the forest for the marking."

They exchange a look, then move ahead toward their seats, blending into the front rows of dignitaries and pack leaders.

I remain where I am for a moment, scanning the crowd.

Tatiana is nowhere in sight.

A faint, complicated smile tugs at my lips. Given the way Zion had looked at her earlier—hungry, reverent, undone—it wouldn't surprise me if they chose privacy over ceremony preparations. The thought is oddly comforting. At least someone gets to step into certainty tonight.

My gaze drifts toward the elders' platform.

They stand together in their ceremonial robes, solemn and composed. Elder Raoul is among them, his presence steady as ever. Elder Amaruq, however, is conspicuously absent—and I find that I don't miss him. Some absences are blessings in disguise.

I search again.

And again.

But Fenris is nowhere to be seen.

The realization settles heavily in my chest, and a small, broken sound escapes my throat before I can stop it. I press my lips together quickly, grateful that no one nearby hears the involuntary whimper.

A light tap on my arm startles me.

I turn, half-expecting Alexandria's sharp eyes and sharper smile—but instead I find Connor standing beside me, his expression unusually subdued.