“Well, you all have something in common. None of you has a mate,” he reminds us, and there’s a hushed silence that falls over the room.
Even Conan turns to me with a surprised expression, his brows furrowed when he says, “That’s the last thing that anyone cares about.”
“I hate to say this, but I agree with Conan,” Heinrich laments with a scoff as he pushes himself back in his seat.
I purse my lips in contemplation, because honestly, I don’t even know what to say to this. But the silence is unnerving, so I say, “Mates? Is reproduction really the answer?”
“No,” Amos says, turning to his assistant and nodding at her. She opens up a file and passes it to him, and he pushes it over toward my uncle. “The purpose of a mate is not just to reproduce. A mate would strengthen the magic you’ve been losing.”
“Is this really going to help the pack?” I ask skeptically, since the magic the rest of the pack wields is closely tied to my own abilities. If I’m weaker, so is the pack. The same goes for the other alphas. “How sure are you that this will work?”
Amos turns to me, giving me his undivided attention. “It’s the only way we can come up with, Alpha Damian. The only thing we have found with a remote chance of saving the packs.We’ve pulled up all the archives we could find, and this came up in some of the scrolls that were previously found from the south.”
“The south…?” Heinrich murmurs, and his father, Elder Mortimer, nods as he reads the scroll in the black leather file. Another silence stretches over the room at the mention of the south of the valley, and an unspeakable secret is kept sacred in that silence.
No one speaks of it because the horror is even worse than the one we're facing at the hands of the demons.
“It appears that Amos is correct,” Mortimer confirms. “The only way to salvation is through the alphas being mated.”
“Then we must arrange for suitable mates for our alphas.” Elder Bernard turns to his grandson, and Conan’s eyes go wide with horror that almost reflects the one I’m feeling inside.
“N-no, Elder Bernard,” Amos interjects, his voice mellow as he reaches for the file and pulls it toward him. He turns the scroll over, where symbols and ancient markings are drawn across the delicate paper. “For this to work, and for the packs to regain their strength through their alphas, the alpha must find his fated mate.”
“Fated mate?” Mortimer frowns. “Does such a thing even exist?”
“Sounds unbelievable,” Uncle Joel scoffs.
“It only exists in legend. Tales that were told around campfires,” Elder Bernard adds.
Heinrich turns to me, and there’s a hopeful glint in his green eyes, hesitant, but still there—something I haven’t seen in a long time.
“How do we pick our fated mates?” I ask, turning to Amos when Heinrich gives me the smallest nod.
“You don’t, Alpha Damian. A fated mate has already been picked for you by Lady Selene. Think soulmates, divine counterparts…”
There’s a spark in my chest, a small flicker where my heart is, almost as if my intuition is responding to the idea of a soulmate. A fated mate. I pause, my brows furrowing when my mind automatically goes to the one place I usually escape to when I need comfort.
Is it comfort I’m seeking? Or is it a final goodbye?
Perhaps a mix of both, because this decision will change the rest of my life. I kissed happiness goodbye two years ago when I left behind the woman I was madly in love with, only to protect her, to keep her safe from this secret life of mine in the valley. I said goodbye to her back then, but in my mind, her round brown eyes are still fresh in my memory, the sweet scent of her perfume still ripe in my lungs as if she’s in the same room. And her warmth? I still feel it in my fingertips, and I often escape to her memory.
If finding a fated mate is what it takes to preserve my people’s lives, then that’s what I must do as the alpha of Red Moon. My duties come first, even if it means having to part ways with a memory.
It’s not like there was hope of a future with the human girl—the nurse from the hospital. It wouldn’t have worked, and I was a fool to pursue her in the first place, only breaking two hearts instead of one. My fault, and perhaps this is punishment for my crimes against her, and against my own heart.
It was torture, and it still is torture two years later. But there cannot be a future with a potential mate if I’m hanging on to the past, clinging to someone else like a lifeline.
I have to let Sophie Torres go.
“How do we find our fated mates?” I ask flatly, not even a flicker of eagerness in my tone. It’s a duty-bound question, coming from a place of knowing where my responsibilities lie, and needing to fulfil this mission and keep my pack members safe.
Amos, on the other hand, beams as if I just asked the million-dollar question.
He lays his hand flat on the weathered scroll, glancing at his assistant before he responds to me. “There is a ritual that must be conducted on the night of a full moon, which happens to be tomorrow night. In the ritual, in a dream-like state, you will receive a message from the cosmos, with the name of your fated mate, as well as an image of her face. We can use those to trace her to one of the packs.”
I nod thoughtfully, glancing at Heinrich and seeing that hopeful glint in his eyes again, and it simply affirms that I’m making the right decision. Maybe not so much for myself, but for the people who are counting on me for salvation. “Tomorrow night, you say?”
Amos nods. “Yes, Alpha.”
