The Monstrous Ceremony

"Release me!"

Her pleas fell on deaf ears as Willow struggled against Lowell's grip, forcefully being dragged back to the dilapidated lumber mill. The pack awaited them, congregated in front of the decaying wooden structure. The mill, situated by a wide expanse of river, showcased a fallen wooden waterwheel partially submerged in algae-covered water, evidence of its abandonment.

After being neglected in the wilderness for several years, the wooden structure had acquired a greenish tint as moss and various small plants flourished across its surface. The roof fared even worse, resembling a cake adorned with a thick, vibrant green moss carpet.

There were several piles of logs scattered around the structure, remnants of towering trees that once stood tall in this very location. Some of the logs extended as long as a hundred feet.

In the clearing facing the mill, a towering bonfire raged, its flames reaching impressive heights of fifteen feet. Four long-haired werewolves, their amber eyes reflecting the fire's light, stood around the blazing inferno, emanating an unsettling aura of supernatural power.

As Lowell brought Willow closer, Boris did the same with Luke just behind. Emerging from behind the campfire, Fenella appeared, her eyes also aglow, mirroring the dancing flames. If looks could kill, Willow was certain Fenella's gaze alone could end her life. The thoughts racing through the female werewolf's mind were beyond Willow's imagination.

As Willow was led past Fenella, Lowell tightened his grip, pulling her closer while glaring menacingly at Fenella. A primal growl conveyed the command to back off, should Fenella entertain any thoughts of intervening. Fenella's expression shifted from anger to hurt, her head lowered and her body slouched, displaying submission for the entire pack to witness.

Willow understood the significance—it signified Fenella's submission to Lowell as well. By refraining from interrupting the ceremony, Fenella acknowledged that Willow surpassed her rank. Nonetheless, Willow already knew Fenella would undoubtedly pose a problem in the future. But Willow couldn't bring herself to care about what lay ahead; she was about to lose Luke, witnessing his death at their hands. Powerless to stop them, a part of her even wished for her own demise—it seemed preferable to a lifetime tied to a monster like Lowell.

Ascending a stack of wood, Lowell positioned Willow beside him, both overlooking the gathering of werewolves around the blazing campfire. With a commanding voice that drowned out all other sounds of the night, Lowell commenced speaking.

"Pack! The time has arrived," Lowell's voice boomed, overpowering the surrounding ambiance. "Here, under the moon's gentle glow, I claim Willow, Ridley's daughter, as my mate. I believe the watchful eyes of Goddess Dacia are upon us. I beseech her to bestow her blessing upon this union as we embark on our sacred vows."

Unable to witness the ceremony any longer, Fenella transformed into a white wolf and swiftly departed, vanishing into the depths of the forest. Willow couldn't comprehend Fenella's attraction to someone as monstrous as Lowell, but she empathized with her feelings. Both she and Fenella were forbidden from being with the ones they truly desired.

If Lowell took offense at Fenella's departure, he didn't show it. He clutched Willow's hand so tightly she couldn't break free, no matter how desperately she tried. Raising their intertwined hands skyward, he continued his oration.

"O, Goddess Dacia, divine guardian of the wolves," Lowell's voice resonated, infused with reverence. "I beseech your benevolent blessing upon this everlasting bond. Should you grant your favor, I vow to forsake my personal desires and devote myself to leading the pack with unwavering loyalty. Grant me your wisdom, and I shall devote myself entirely to Willow and the sacred union we form. This vow I make for you, for her, and for myself."

Willow clenched her lower lip, doubting for a moment the sincerity behind Lowell's smoothly spoken vow. She knew he was only doing this to further his own ambitions. The significance of being an alpha eluded her—what was the point, she wondered, in leading a pack of these repulsive, vagabond-like werewolves? And beyond his physical strength and merciless demeanor, Lowell failed to impress her. While Luke mentioned Lowell's heightened sense of smell compared to other werewolves, Willow, who had always considered herself fully human until that moment, saw it as no gift.

As the oath concluded, Lowell turned to Willow, his voice a hushed whisper in her ear. "Your turn, Willow," he murmured. "Recite the same oath I just spoke."

Willow flinched. "And what happens after I say the oath?"

"After that, we'll go to the cabin. Just you and me. To consummate our marriage," Lowell replied with a guttural growl that churned Willow's stomach.

How could he expect Willow to willingly sleep with him after everything he had done? Her heart sank, knowing she had no choice. "But... but what about Luke?" she stammered, fear pounding in her chest, already aware of the answer.

"I already told you. I'm going to kill him," Lowell responded nonchalantly, as if it were inconsequential. "Now, what are you waiting for? Utter the damn oath."

Yet Willow had no intention of complying. In that moment, it felt as if she were being forced to choose between life and death. Saying the oath would mean losing Luke forever and enduring a wretched existence for who knows how long. Refusing to say the oath, on the other hand, would still result in losing Luke but would allow her to retain her freedom. Lowell would likely find a way to coerce her into becoming his mate or even end her life.

However, a realization dawned upon her. No, no, no. Lowell wouldn't kill her, Willow suddenly understood. This ruthless werewolf needed her alive to fulfill his desires. So why should she surrender? Why should she bow to his will? Lowell held no true power. Willow was the one with power.

"No." The word slipped from her lips, barely louder than a whisper.

His brow furrowed. "What did you just say?"

"I said no," Willow spoke louder this time, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. "I won't recite the vows, I won't allow you to claim me as your mate, and I won't let you triumph."

The simmering anger within Lowell became palpable. His civilized façade began to crumble, revealing an underlying fury, akin to a monster about to break free from its restraints.

"I'll say this one last time. Recite the damn oath," he demanded, pointing his finger at Luke. "You know what will happen if you refuse."

"And I know what will happen if I comply," Willow retorted, a sarcastic smile playing on her lips.

She pulled her hand free from his grasp. "Nothing has changed. You'll kill him regardless."

The monster within Lowell was unleashed. In an instant, he struck Willow's face with the back of his hand, sending a searing wave of pain coursing through her. The taste of blood filled her mouth. When she turned her gaze towards Luke, she witnessed his desperate struggle against Boris' grip. Boris snarled, his hold unyielding. Luke's defiance earned him a swift knee to the stomach, causing him to double over, gasping for breath in agony.

Willow wiped away the blood trickling from her split lip, using the back of her hand. An intense anger surged within her, unlike anything she had ever experienced. Her fists clenched tightly, teeth gritted, as she locked eyes with Boris. Her body trembled, fueled by a rapidly escalating rage. It was raw. It was potent.

The fear in Boris's eyes was evident. He briefly contemplated suppressing it, pushing the anger back down and shaking it off. However, thoughts of everything Lowell and his pack had inflicted upon her, everything they had taken away, flooded her mind. The deaths of her family, the impending death of Luke—she refused to let this newly discovered emotion fade away. She wanted it to sustain her, an enduring and unquenchable force. She wanted it to consume her entirely.

"Boris," Lowell bellowed. "Kill that traitor and show this bitch the consequences of disobeying me!"

A menacing growl rumbled from Boris's throat, indicating his compliance. Meanwhile, Luke still lay on the ground, attempting to move, but Boris's foot pressed firmly against his chest, preventing any escape.

"No," Willow howled, her voice unrecognizable even to herself. It resonated deeper, heavier in her throat, almost like a growl. It felt foreign, as if she had expelled something lodged in her throat that shouldn't have been there.

Little did she know, this was merely the beginning of her body's sudden transformation. A tingling sensation coursed through every bone, momentarily numbing her hands and feet. She couldn't comprehend what was happening, but she didn't resist it. Deep down, a profound knowing urged her to embrace it. She had to accept it.

As she dropped down onto all fours, Willow gazed at her hands and witnessed her fingers shrinking until they nearly disappeared, while her nails grew longer and more pronounced. Thick white fur sprouted across her hands and arms, spreading rapidly over her entire body. It was then that realization struck—she understood what was unfolding. She was transforming into a wolf.

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