“He’s oddly obsessed with your daughter.”
“She would be here if that were the case.”
The sound of the vampiric baby making a fuss caused everyone to slowly turn their eyes towards the source. She was becoming active and talkative the more they tried to settle and quiet her down. Trevor was busy speaking with Seth while making his presence known amongst the canines. Raven managed to pull a small bottle out of her black pouch and began shaking it up. Even my own mother went over to see what was going on and how she could be of help.
“She can have some of my blood,” Clarence whispered with a teasing grin. He held out his arm to purposely block Raven who smacked it away.
“Don’t nobody want yo old stale blood, Clarance, move out the way. This is a baby,” she hissed with a stomp of her foot. “If it ain’t her parents, it needs to be from another child.”
“Deddy, you can’t play with folks chirren like that,” Bree pleaded tiredly. Clarence shrugged with a laugh.
Raven grabbed one of her grandsons, the youngest of the girls and gently poked his skin to take a dab of blood into what smelled like goats milk. She shook it up, barely able to see a difference in the color before taking it to Himora who refused at first.
“She may not be hungry, but she will be soon. This will calm her down. She can stomach this just fine. My goats have a clean diet,” Raven said.
There was so much commotion on our side of the ceremony while the rest remained silent, watching, annoyed but irritated at what was probably disrespect. Yet as soon as Himora hesitantly gave the bottle to her daughter, she immediately latched on and snuggled deep into her arms with drowsy eyes. Her balled-up fist even attempted to hold the bottle up herself.
“If this was a few years ago,” Milly whispered as she came up beside me. Her hand slowly tricked up my spine, walking on two fingers before tugging at my ear. “I would have taken down the true son of Marvin Holmes while you handle and have fun with his so-called wife…You always did find the peculiar ones to your liking…She still smells like a fae…”
Smiling, I could see it now. Himora Clarke, cornered and terrified by me but when I turned back around, I almost stumbled back at the sight of Trevor Coleman standing directly in front of me with a smile.
“You good nephew?” He asked. His smile slowly began to disappear, but his eyes never left me. Carmilla cleared her throat before humbly walking back to her dormant lover.
“Fine,” I replied before adding, “Uncle.”
We stared at one another as the woods slowly darkened until his eyes to the side. He suddenly put on a fake family smile while my mother came to stand by my side. She wasn’t clueless to the threatening energy Trevor suddenly had for me and only returned it with her own. Although amusing, I had a moment where I imagined myself as a little boy sticking my tongue out at my uncle because he got in trouble with his sister for messing with me.
The sound of a loud clap echoed as the remainder of the woods was cloaked in darkness. Looking up at the night sky, themoon was hidden behind the clouds as pairs of bright eyes lit up the forest floor. There were dozens, if not well over a hundred or so wolves and werewolves surrounding us. For the first time, I think we all had a moment of realizing just how dangerous this was for us with tensions already high amongst the families and groups.
I reached for Draco and pulled him back towards me so he could walk me through what was about to happen next. I’m sure his wife filled him in.
“What the fuck is this?” I whispered.
“It’s about to start,” he replied. The sound of two rocks striking against one another was all you could hear as tiny sparks flew close to the ground. “That is the oldest werewolf out of the pack…They call her Mama Eba.”
The clash of stones created the first spark of fire as you see the dark bare feet with her nails curled into the ground. She slowly made her way around the circle, creating small pits of fire to light up the center, giving Namir a golden glow with shadows bouncing off his frame. He was still looking up towards the sky while his mother stood by his side repeating words under her breath, like a spell or seance.
“The pack,” Draco whispered, just low enough for me to hear as he motioned his hands towards the right. “Where Maze and Namir belong…broken up into different groups…given what’s left anyway. Then you have the Nation.” He motioned towards the left where you could see nothing but eyes blinking within the trees. “They’re from up north where it's cold…New Jersey, Philly, Boston…Canada…and the Tribe…Midwest on out…Not a lot of them but they’re here. Might be the first time that they’veall gotten together like this, but no one has claimed a vampire for a bride like this either…Or rather, the moon…”
The moon…right…
“How many?” I asked. I felt a pinch on my arm as I turned to look down at my mother wondering what the fuck her problem was, but she motioned for me to keep quiet. Draco leaned in to whisper.
“ALOT.”
The sound pound of feet, fist, and paws hitting the ground began to slowly ripple throughout the woods as Namir’s chest repeatedly caved in and out to the rhythm. His movements were jerky and unstable, mouth was wide open, and his white eyes were only for the covered moon in the sky as everyone around us began to pound the ground, all but us. Raven quietly snuck her phone out, peering at the bright camera screen and accidentally turned on herself to try and record, but one of the daughters snatched the phone out of her hand. The woman only known as Mama Eba quietly turned to face Namir as she began to coat his shoulders with some sort of red paint.
“You cannot become who you are meant to be until you leave behind who you are,” she said. Her hands gripped his neck, painting it bright red before smearing the rest of the thinning clay across his chest. “You belong to the pack Namir…You stand here before everyone pledging your loyalty, strength, body, and soul to the pack.”
My eyes widened when I saw her scoop down towards the ground to grab more of the clay dirt before smothering his feet and legs with it. Namir’s mother kept her hand on his back with her eyes closed, still chanting away as his stomach heaved and panted. His tongue slowly spilled out the side of his mouth ashe continued to be struck by the moon above. How did no one question this? It was obvious he was the moon, even more than ever now.
“If anybody dares to challenge him, speak now…”
No one moved. Not even a pop or snap of a twig. The woman waited, tempting anyone to step forward. Namir’s body continued to heave with his chest caving in repeatedly while the woman bent down and continued to cover his legs with the clay.
“Everybody came to see if it's true,” Draco whispered again. I cut my eyes towards my cousin as he shrugged. “They want to know if it’s possible to claim the moon as a mate.”
“Well they’re about to find out,” I muttered, knowing what I know about Namir, it’s more than possible.
