Chapter 16: Chapter 16

SLOAN

The time was finally drawing near. Sloan had been antsy from the moment he woke up, and the long day just seemed to drag on.

It was funny how being mated could make one feel lovesick. He missed her warm body next to his.

~And it’s only been one night.~ He chuckled to himself as he stood before the mirror, buttoning up his shirt. ~Fuck, this will be a long day, after a shit night’s rest.~

Throughout the day, he found various ways to distract himself, whether it was training with the pack or manually assisting the ceremony organizers as they finalized the placement of furniture around the garden.

Eventually, his father banished him to his room to be pampered, cleaned, and dressed. He felt like he was scrubbed raw.

His head felt lighter after his hair was thoroughly washed and blow-dried and neatly tied in a low ponytail. He picked up a small brush and tended to his beard and mustache.

He left the balcony doors ajar so he could listen to the gentle music playing out in the gardens.

However, thirty minutes before the ceremony, the buzz of light conversation started to drift up from down below as different shifters began arriving for the festivities.

“Well, you clean up nicely.” Tristan laughed as he walked into the room. The clinking of glasses told Sloan that his brother came bearing gifts.

“He sure does,” Declan teased as he entered behind Tristan.

“I’m so glad I paid for a rush appointment on the soundproofing,” Sloan said nonchalantly, cracking his neck.

Tristan laughed out loud before commenting, “I would usually make an inappropriate statement, but I prefer living, thank you very much.”

“Well, I have no intention of witnessing your murder nor aiding in the disposal of your body, so keep your inappropriate thoughts away from the alpha,” Declan stated in a bored voice.

“We’ll laugh about it later,” he continued in a loud whisper to Tristan.

Sloan growled at them, and Declan held up his hands in surrender.

“He’ll be murdering both of us.” Tristan smirked, holding up the whiskey bottle. “But kill us after we take a shot.”

“Not without me,” their father said, walking into the room, making Tristan jump in surprise. Both Declan and Sloan began howling with laughter as Tristan held his chest.

“Fuck, you weren’t kidding about the soundproofing.”

“Worth every penny.”

They all smirked knowingly. Tristan passed the glasses around and then cracked open the bottle. Once they each had two fingers of liquid, Tristan cleared his throat and held up his finger.

“To Sloan’s castration!”

“Jesus, where the hell did your mother and I pick you up from?” Theo shook his head in disappointment and looked at Sloan.

“Son, I’m so proud of the man you’ve become. Even with these two nut holders as your betas, I know the pack is in safe hands.

“Now you’ll have your mate beside you, and together, you’ll all make our pack stronger than ever. Your mother had nothing but praises for Myra, and she’s already adopted her family as part of our own.

“But being mates doesn’t mean it will all be a bed of roses. Remember, you’re all still individual beings and will seek solace, whether together or alone.

“Though your possessive wolf spirit will want to control every aspect of her being, this will only cause tension,” he explained.

“So my advice to you is to frequently communicate but also ~listen~ to her, not just hear. Set boundaries, establish trust, and weather through the highs and lows together. To Sloan and Myra.”

“To Sloan and Myra,” they parroted and cheered with their drinks.

“And to never owning your balls again,” Declan included.

“You boys were definitely raised in a barn.” Theo rolled his eyes as they all laughed before knocking back their drinks.

“Boys? It’s time.” Sian knocked on the bedroom door and gently pushed it open. “Oh, my sweet baby boy.”

“I know. Don’t I look hot, Mom?” Tristan smiled and gave a spin to show off his attire.

Sloan just shook his head at his brother, who was dressed in a tight pale-pink dress shirt, navy blue pants, and brown leather shoes.

Sian also shook her head and glanced between Sloan and Declan. “You boys couldn’t get him to clean up like you two?” she fired back, smiling wickedly at Tristan.

Tristan’s hands slapped his chest over his heart, and a pained expression flooded his face. “Ma, you’ve wounded me.”

“You’ll survive, boy,” she teased, patting his cheek. “Sloan, I can’t wait for you to see Myra.” The music outside changed. “That’s our cue! It’s time.”

With a final glance at himself in the mirror, he cracked his neck again and followed the small group out of the room.

***

Sloan stood, with his mother and father on either side of him, by the doorway leading to the gardens. They waited for their cue from Elder Reagan. He was still asking individuals to take their seats.

“Let’s begin,” he commanded the gathered congregation, then nodded at Sloan.

Slowly, they walked down the stone pathway and then onto the grassy lawn. Sloan could feel the prickly grass blades and the velvet softness of the rose petals scattered about under his bare feet.

They stepped toward the raised pavilion and stopped before Elder Reagan.

“Who presents this young alpha to this claiming circle?”

“We do,” both of his parents said. His father patted his back while Sloan bent down and let his mother gently kiss his cheek.

“Sloan, please stand to my right.”

Sloan stepped up and stood where he was instructed. He looked up in time to see his mother and father take their seats in the front row next to Tristan and Bryn.

On the other side of the aisle, there was one empty seat, then Myrielle and her husband, Benji, who was holding their baby.

The little girl was surprisingly wide awake, gazing up at the fairy lights twinkling in the treetops. And next to the small family sat Megan.

His eyes shifted to the movement by the doorway, and he audibly gasped.

She really looked like an angel in her white gown. It was off-the-shoulder, lace, and fitted to her, highlighting her hourglass figure.

Her naturally curly hair was straightened and styled to frame her face, pulled into a ponytail that ran neatly over her left shoulder and down to her waist.

To complete her angelic look, she wore light makeup that enhanced her natural beauty.

As she walked down the grassy aisle accompanied by her father, those gathered in the congregation were audibly awed by her, which made her blush. Just then, their eyes connected, and her blush deepened.

~“All mine,”~ he thought, opening up his mind to her.

Her smile brightened, and she replied to him. ~“All yours.”~

He smiled and wiped a stray tear that tumbled down his cheek just as she and her father stopped before the pavilion.

“Who presents this young lady to this claiming circle?”

“We do,” her whole family, including Megan, responded.

Her father gently kissed her cheek and shook Sloan’s hand before taking the empty seat next to Myrielle.

“Myra, please stand to my left,” said Elder Reagan. She gathered up the long skirts of her gown and stepped to the spot indicated.

“Hi, handsome,” she greeted him.

“Hello. You look gorgeous.” Sloan smirked as he immediately pictured different naughty adventures he wished to have with her.

“Ahem.” Elder Reagan cleared his throat, and it was a splash of cold water to his heated libido. “It’s an honor to preside over this union in the shadow of a lunar eclipse, which has created an October blood moon.”

As one, they looked up at the moon. Sure enough, a full blood moon was looking down at them.

“We are gathered here today to witness the blessed claiming union between Alpha Sloan Jamison of the Blood Moon Pack and Myra Gallagher.

“Have you, Sloan and Myra, come here today to enter this claiming circle freely and wholeheartedly and without coercion?”

“I have,” they each replied.

“Please grasp each other’s left hand,” he instructed. Sloan’s hand enveloped her smaller one, and he felt a tingling sensation where their skin touched.

Another elder approached from the side of the pavilion and handed Elder Reagan a gold-embroidered white shawl. He draped the cloth over their joined hands and then secured it around them.

Binding them.

“Do you, Alpha Sloan, solemnly promise to take Myra as your omega and mate?”

Sloan squeezed her hand before answering. “I solemnly promise.”

“Do you, Myra, solemnly promise to take Alpha Sloan as your alpha and mate?” Elder Reagan asked her.

“I solemnly promise.”

“At this next part, you will answer together. Do you solemnly promise to have and to hold, not only each other, but the roles and responsibilities of the pack?”

“I do,” they answered together.

“Do you solemnly promise to stand by each other, as well as pack leaders, for better and for worse, for richer or poorer, through sickness and health?”

“I do,” they answered together.

Elder Reagan nodded once he was satisfied with their commitment, and he turned to Sloan. “Repeat after me:

“I, Sloan, take you, Myra, as my mate and omega from this day forward till death do us part,” he said.

Sloan repeated it, word for word.

The elder then turned his attention to Myra. “Please repeat after me:

“I, Myra, take you, Sloan, as my mate and alpha from this day forward till death do us part.”

Myra repeated, word for word.

The surrounding congregation seemed to have disappeared, and Elder Reagan’s words became distant. Sloan never let his eyes leave hers as they gazed lovingly at each other.

Once again, he began imagining the rest of their lives together, and it included an abundance of bedroom time.

Suddenly, Elder Reagan’s words interrupted the spell, and Sloan smiled at Myra. The ceremony was almost over.

“Both parties have already agreed to bind their claim in a private setting. Therefore, what was blessed today, may no creature put asunder.

“It gives me great pleasure and honor to present to you Sloan and Myra, alpha and omega of the Blood Moon Pack. You may kiss your mate.”

“Mine,” Sloan growled, causing Myra to giggle.

“Yours.”

Sloan used his free right hand to pull her close, and he briefly kissed her. He didn’t want the kiss to last too long, because they had company, who had started to cheer and applaud at their happy union.

They’d be alone soon, and now they had forever.

***

When Sloan crashed through the door, it came flying off its hinges. Literally.

It was nearly three in the morning, and the party had died down. Myra was straddling Sloan’s hips with her legs as he carried her up to his bedroom.

Their lips were locked together in furious passion, their tongues writhing like snakes in some sort of bizarre mating dance.

Myra could feel Sloan’s heart thundering against his chest, almost as hard as her own.

They both knew what was about to happen. After all this time, he was about to claim her.

Sloan laid her gently on the bed, his movements at odds with his violent actions before. He then returned to the broken door and refitted it into the frame.

“Close enough,” he growled. “We don’t want to be interrupted.”

But at that moment, a strange odor in the room caused Myra to sniff and look around, frowning.

“Why is there a faint scent of wood, paint, and…installation?”

Sloan smirked, his eyes flashing. It was a look full of hunger and desire.

“I had the bedroom soundproofed,” he answered simply, looking smug as he slid himself between her legs on the bed.

A flurry of knocks came from the door, and Sloan cursed.

“We have a problem,” Tristan called through the gaps in the door. “You know I wouldn’t be here if it was manageable.” The panic in his voice alarmed Sloan.

“What happened?” he asked. He glanced over at Myra and smiled at the slight sheen of sweat that clung to her barely-covered nude body and the look of frustration on her face.

“It’s Elizabeth,” Tristan explained. “She escaped.”

“I’ll be right there,” said Sloan, sitting bolt upright in bed.