Maeve was taken aback.
"What? What do you mean? What trials?" she asked, her brows furrowing.
Aaron's eyes seemed to get glazed over. He took a deep breath.
"Witches aren't as nice as some sunny stories make them out to be." It was Ryan who replied, almost startling Maeve. "They are a cruel bunch, opportunistic wretches. They prey on weakness. Just like everyone else, I don't really agree with wolves and vampires mating, but witches took advantage of that incident decades ago to claim Glendale for themselves."
Maeve was still finding it difficult to stomach the reality of witches, which shouldn't have been any worse than the reality of vampires and werewolves – honestly. This paled in comparison to how irritated she became when no one elaborated on the trials though.
"And the trials?" she asked.
Aaron answered this time.
"The appeal to the witches was made thirty years ago. They agreed to it, but they decided to make it a game – as they always do. On the year of the fortieth Day of Moon and Blood – this year – all wolves and vampires would be allowed to settle in Glendale. However, on the Day of Moon and Blood itself, the original werewolves and vampires of this land would compete to lay complete claim. That is, only one race between us would be allowed to settle back in Glendale." he explained.
"From the wolves, only aspiring Lunas would – rather, will – be allowed to compete, with the assistance of Alphas. And from the vampires, only Ordinates will be allowed to compete in the trials. The aspiring Lunas have already been chosen. The oldest daughters of the leaders of each pack that once belonged to Glendale, qualify to compete."
Maeve reached for her forehead and tenderly rubbed it while processing what she had just heard. Piecing everything together proved to be too much on her own.
"What is a Luna exactly?" she asked. The lore she knew from terrible television shows didn't give her much of an idea, at least when paired with how Aaron used the word Luna in a sentence.
"A Luna is a strong she-wolf that leads a pack on her own – different from an Alpha's mate. It's not a very common concept in other parts of the world, but here, it is. You could say they are the equivalent of an Alpha, but the greatest of Lunas have always had a stronger connection to the moon," Aaron said and a glimpse of a smile appeared on his face again.
Maeve didn't look all that intrigued by this subject. In fact, something was nagging her from the back of her mind. She felt like with all she'd been told right now, there was something that didn't add up. She couldn't put her finger on it.
"So, Luna is just a title?" she asked.
"No. You obviously have to earn the respect and loyalty of a pack to become a Luna, but once that's achieved, the moon shows great favour to a Luna and grants them privileges."
Maeve frowned.
"What privileges? And why do you keep speaking of the moon as if it's some kind of fucking god or something?" she asked.
Aaron's smile grew wider.
"What makes you think it's just some rock drifting in space?" he asked in return.
Maeve gave him a puzzled, irritated look. Again, she felt like she was missing something.
"So why are aspiring Lunas competing when there are already Alphas? What's the point of this?" she asked.
"The point is to humble the Alphas and demean them. The witches of the Old Coven and the New are all… bitter, let's say. They probably found it funny to use our beliefs against us – making Alphas serve aspiring Lunas in a contest that mocks the relationship between the Luna and Ordinate who defied nature back then." Aaron sighed. He found this distasteful.
"I see." Maeve said. "What's an Ordinate? Some kind of super vampire?" There was little mirth in her voice than one would have believed.
Aaron shrugged.
"Something like that. They are pure-blood vampires born from the original, Progenitor vampires of legend, as I've heard. They are equal to Alphas in status."
Maeve wore an unsettled look. Her greatest takeaway from all this so far was that the witches were messed up, not to mention powerful. They were controlling two races of powerful not-so-mythological creatures without even trying, or so Maeve thought.
Aaron rose from his seat and walked up to the couch supporting Ryan and Jake's weights.
"All this circles back to why these" – he pointed at Jake – "dickheads wanted to kill you. They wanted to kill all the aspiring Lunas before the Day of Moon and Blood. I assume they hoped that in the end, they would win Glendale by default if there were no challengers from this side. Fortunately, they haven't met complete success. Nine aspiring Lunas were killed since the start of the year. Six remain, and you're one of them."
And right then, it hit Maeve like a truck – the thing she had been missing!
"Hold on!" she cried and shot up. Her eyes turned glossy. She marched over to Aaron who looked a bit bewildered, even moreso when she grabbed the collar to his ripped flannel shirt. "Wh… If I'm an aspiring Luna too, then that means my parents…" She broke off.
Of course! Her parents must have been leaders of a pack. They were part of those who appealed to the witches of the Old Coven and the New. They had been fighting for their home. But for some reason, they had died; it was definitely not in some freak car accident like Gerald and Millie Mitchelle said, Maeve knew.
"How did my parents die?" she asked, her voice cracking and accusing. "How was I born and raised in Glendale if… if no wolves and vampires were allowed until this year?"
For what felt like a long, coarse decade, the two locked eyes.
Aaron felt his heart thrum like a drum deep within his chest. When he looked deep into Maeve's glossy, confused eyes, hiding buckets of tears and untold pain, he was reminded of a fragrance long gone from a year long gone. Sunlight had pierced through a thicket of black hair, partly blinding him from the young, pretty face that had shared the lawn with him.
That memory was dangerous, Aaron reminded himself. He grabbed Maeve's wrists and pulled her hands away from his collar.
"I've come to realise it wouldn't be fair if I was the one to tell you all that, Maeve," he said, and again Maeve noticed a deep sorrow on his face. "That's for the person who sent me to tell. There's an Alpha who's meant to be your backer during the trials."
Maeve frowned as she withdrew.
"Who?" she asked.
Aaron wore a smile as fake as the one Maeve wore almost daily at Frank's Fried Friends.
"My older brother."