Preparing for a Lunar Gate ceremony with less than a day until the full moon has the pack in a frenzy. It's not often a wolf dies, and nearly unheard of that many will pass at once, all being guided back to the moon goddess. That's the purpose of the Lunar Gate, with the full moon shining bright above our heads, it's our direct doorway to the goddess that looks down on us from the craters above. It's supposed to allow the spirits of our departed to join her once more free of the turmoil of this earthly world.
Though the ceremony itself isn't a complicated one, it's a time suck for Seiko, the pack's Seer. Each pack has one, an elder blessed with visions of the past, present and future. The visions that come are specific to the phases of the moon. Waxing being the future, waning the past and a full moon, the effervescent present. Seiko's gift will help guide each wolf spirit, in its own time, back to the goddess.
One by one she'll touch each departed brethren waiting for the signs of release of the wolf's soul. From what I've seen, sometimes it takes seconds, others keen on staying part of this world take hours. It might sound like total bullshit, but at the time of release, the marks we all carry just above our hearts, the very same spot we also mark our mates, fade, with a final breath sneaking past their lips one last time. Though the contents exhaled in that breath aren't visible, the disappearance of the mark is.
For the first time in this pack's extensive history, our Lunar Gate will be for the thirty-two pack members we lost last night, including our former Alpha and Luna. Per pack law, they will be the last in line as the ceremony goes on, starting first with our youngest, then continuing up the totem pole based on rank. I'd be lying if I said I was in any way prepared for this. I'm not. The distraction of the individual pack interviews did little to make me forget how much loss occurred here less than twenty-four hours ago.
"Commander Hemming," Simon Venu, one of the youngest new guards, creeps us behind me.
"How can I help you, Simon?"
"Sir, I would like to ask that I be put on patrol this evening instead of attending the ceremony."
It's a curious ask, but then it hits me. Katrina isn't the only one who lost her parents last night. Simon did too, along with his eldest sister, also one of our tenured guard wolves. For him, he'll be watching his entire world, his family, take their final breaths vanishing from this world in the only way that matters. We believe once the wolf spirit leaves our human bodies, the bodies become empty shells with no trace of who they were before, left behind.
"Of course. I'll be sure to have you stationed at the main gate." Placing a hand on his shoulder, he releases a quivering breath, his head bowing in thanks to me.
"Thank you, Commander. I will not let down our pack."
"Simon. Look at me."
With the dimming light of a broken soul, azure eyes meet mine, the very same ones his sister had. His lip shakes, his only outward sign that he is fighting like hell to keep it together.
"You did what you could last night. You are not to blame. Hold your head high son. It's you that will carry on your family's bloodline. You will do them proud."
A sliver of a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. His only response is a nod, as he makes his way back towards the row of homes designated for lower level guard members. Many of them are shared amongst the guard members, something akin to human frat or sorority houses, except co-ed living is very much a thing. As wolves, we don't think about gender the way the human world does. We need comfort, companions and warm bodies. It doesn't matter what sex they come from.
Returning to my own home, alone, feels…wrong. But Katrina had Alpha business to discuss with the others of the Wolf Council. With her rising into her role quickly, it was an emergency meeting called by the leaders of our world. Some, the Beta's attend, but not this one.
I can imagine her now, her tiny body sitting tall in the oversize chair her father used to occupy, the one only slightly smaller next to it belonging to her mother. She promised me she was fine when she stepped foot into the office they kept in the pack house this morning, but I could see the tensing of her muscles, coiling like deadly snakes, so tight, suffocating her. Katrina is strong, though, she kept her chin high, lowering herself into the leather of the chair behind the onyx-marbled desk without wavering even for a second.
It could be ten minutes before she comes along or hours. Even she did not know the nature of what the council needed to so urgently discuss. I would have expected that they would have at least had a tiny bit of respect for what we're going through in terms of releasing then burying half of our pack tonight. But, to my dismay, Auris Danrius, the eldest Alpha on the council, leader of the Gibbous Moon Wolf Pack, the largest of all of us in Canada, insisted they meet urgently.
Hours of me lying in bed staring at the ceiling, while the sun slowly sets behind the trees lining the bayou , pass before Katrina returns. Her tiny frame plummets onto the bed next to me, shoulders slumped and eyes blank. I don't know what happened in that meeting, but it's enough to overpower her grief, yanking the life from her. I won't press her for answers, but eager to let her know I'm here, my arm wraps around her from behind.
Unlike last night where she sank into my touch, needing what I had to offer, her body remains rigid. It's like she can't even feel me here. Changing tactics, I leap from the bed, the frame creaking beneath my weight, as I round the front of her. Nothing changes, her eyes fixated on something in the distance, but seeing nothing at all. With the setting sun, eerie shadows begin to form throughout the room, making her appear even more haunted than she is.
"Katrina, I need you to tell me what happened?"
I'm greeted with nothing more than the sounds of our shared breaths, as they mingle between our parted lips.
"Katrina."
"We're in trouble, Theo. Our pack is in trouble. They're coming for us. For me." Her voice is that of a drone, a robotic timber void of all the inflection that makes Katrina, Katrina.
Truth be told, I'm terrified. I have never seen her like this. Not even last night when heartbreak nearly tore her apart. My brain searches for any possible explanation of what she's talking about or what disaster was discussed on that call. They could mean anyone. Other packs. Vampires. Lycans. Witches. Humans. Demons. The many other animal shifters of the world. None of us are allies, not really.
"Katrina, who is coming?" My fingers wrap around her trembling biceps, shaking her ever so slightly.
"Everyone," she drones, a single tear slipping free.