Page 100 of Alpha Brock
The girls come back to the packhouse with me, and I opt to get ready for the ceremony in one of the guest rooms downstairs- the one I used to live in, coincidentally. I had a vision once of getting ready for my Luna ceremony in this room, so it felt right. Two hours later, we’re putting the finishing touches on my look as they squeal in approval, and then, all too quickly, they wish me luck and take off, saying they’ll see me at the lodge for the celebration following the ceremony.
After they go, I slip on my heels and take a deep breath, studying my reflection in the large mirror on the wall of the bedroom. The girls helped me pick out the dress, and it’s exquisite- navy blue floor-length silk that clings and flows in all the right places, halter style in the front with open sides and a sinfully low back that dips just above my tailbone. Slits are cut on both sides of the gown all the way up to my hips, so I’m flashing lots of leg with every step. Given the cut of the dress, I had to completely skip wearing undergarments- but for some reason I don’t think my man will mind. I’ve got my hair styled in more of a loose wave than my usual untamed curls, and my makeup is on point. I’d venture to say that I’ve never looked better, though my stomach is a bundle of nerves.
“Knock knock!” comes a voice from the doorway, and I look up to see Brock’s mom, Luna Emma, standing in the threshold.
“Hi!” I flash her a bright smile, waving her inside. She starts toward me, and I meet her halfway, stepping into her arms as she offers me a hug.
While I resided here in the weeks leading up to the battle in Denver, I met Luna Emma a few times in passing, when she came by the packhouse to drop off meals. She was always kind to me then, but since finding out that Brock and I are mates, she’s been incredibly sweet and welcoming; more than I ever imagined or expected. I’ve never been close with my own mother, so spending time with Emma has been filling a void in my life that I never knew existed.
“You look beautiful, honey,” she smiles, stepping back and giving me a once-over. “Just stunning. My son’s a lucky man.”
“Oh stop,” I giggle, my cheeks heating in a blush. “I’m the lucky one.”
“Nonsense,” Emma clucks, taking my hand and leading me back over to the large full-length mirror on the wall. She positions me in front of it, standing behind me and placing her hands on my shoulders, meeting my eyes in the mirror. “Are you ready for the ceremony?” she asks, rubbing my shoulders gently. “Know what to expect?”
“I think so,” I breathe, wringing my hands in front of me anxiously. While I understand the general gist of the Luna ceremony, my pack hasn’t taken on a new Luna in my lifetime, so I’ve never actually witnessed one. I’ve been to a post-ceremony celebration for the shifter pack up in Boulder, but when it comes to the actual ceremony, I have zero experience. It’s a little nerve racking.
“You’re going to do fine,” Emma says reassuringly, sensing my apprehension. “The only words you have to remember are ‘I do’. It’s just a bunch of ‘I do’s’ over and over for your vows to the pack, then the blood rites. It goes by quick, and Brock, Rowe, and I will be with you every step of the way.”
I blow out a breath, nodding. “Thanks,” I say, holding eye contact with her in the mirror and smiling feebly.
“Oh!” she exclaims, lifting her hands from my shoulders and reaching for the leather wristlet dangling from her wrist. “Before I forget…”
I watch as Emma unzips and dips her fingers into her wristlet, extracting a delicate gold bracelet.
“I wore this on the night of my Luna ceremony, as did the Luna before me,” she says, unfastening the clasp. “It’s a family heirloom, meant to bring you luck in your new role as Luna.”
I lift my wrist and hold it out to her, watching as she fastens the bracelet around it.
“I don’t know what to say,” I breathe, holding up the bracelet to examine it once it’s secured around my wrist. It’s a delicate gold chain with two small charms- a crescent moon and a star. “It’s beautiful…”
“It’s yours now,” Emma smiles at me in the mirror, the corners of her eyes crinkling. Even though she’s older, she’s still exquisitely beautiful with her dark eyes, jet black hair, and smooth, tan skin. “And one day, you’ll have the joy of passing it on to your son’s mate.”
I can’t help but smile at the thought of that, turning away from the mirror to wrap my arms around Emma in another embrace. “Thank you,” I whisper, pressing my eyes closed as I squeeze her tightly.
“Thankyou,” she echoes, pulling back and taking my hands in hers. “For making my son so happy. I think he’d given up on love before you came along.”
Tears spring to my eyes, and Emma’s quick to hand me a tissue. I laugh, dabbing them away.
“Don’t spoil your makeup,” she scolds, pointing a finger at me.
“I won’t,” I sniffle, gently wiping the corner of my eye.
She smiles warmly, squeezing my hand before turning to leave the room. “I’ll see you out there!” she chirps as she breezes through the doorway.
I turn back to the mirror, dabbing at my eyes and getting my emotions in check. Once my eyes stop watering, I reach for the eyeliner, touching up my makeup in the mirror. Taking deep breaths, because it’s almost time.
I’m fluffing my hair when I feel the weight of a stare on me, immediately recognizing who it belongs to. I turn to see Brock leaning a shoulder against the doorframe, his eyes feasting over me from head to toe. I can practically feel the heat of his gaze burn my skin from across the room. “Fuuuckkk…” he groans like he’s in pain, adjusting himself in his slacks.
My cheeks flush and my eyes wander over Brock, drinking in every delicious inch of him. He’s wearing a crisp white shirt and a fitted navy blue suit, camel brown shoes on his feet and his hair tied back in a neat man-bun. No tie, but he doesn’t need it- I’ve never seen him look so polished. He even trimmed his beard down for the occasion. Brock has always been impossibly attractive, but Brock all cleaned up and dressed in a suit?Holy fucking hotness. I might need a drool check.
Flustered, I turn away from him and back to the mirror, fussing over my hair again. “You shouldn’t be in here, babe.”
Especially looking like that.I’m tempted to ask him to just throw me on the bed and take me now.
Brock continues to watch me with interest, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
Despite the stress, the past few weeks have only brought Brock and I closer. I feel like the bond between us gets stronger every day. I never knew love could feel like this; thatIcould feel like this. It’s the most emotionally and physically intense thing I’ve ever experienced, yet all I want to do is drown myself in Brock. If he was labeled ‘poison’, I’d drink him anyways.