"Alpha?" Carlisle asked, stepping out to where we were.

"Yes?" Aiden answered.

"So, Ciara is dead set on having her ceremony next week."

Aiden sighed, running a hand through his hair as he stared out the window of his office. Ciara had always been determined—stubborn even—but this time, she was relentless. Her desire for the marking ceremony had reached a fever pitch, and there was no stopping her now.

He turned to face his Omega who stood by the door with an apologetic expression. "There's no talking her out of it? Not even a little compromise?" Aiden asked, though he already knew the answer.

Carlisle shook his head, his lips pressed into a thin line. "No. She's set on next week. Sorry."

"It's no worry," he said, resigned. "I can't really blame her for wanting to push ahead."

Deep down I knew there was more to it than just impatience. Ciara wasn't motivated by the urgency of the bond or the looming threats outside our pack's borders. No, this was about her—her need to be the center of attention, to have the pack's eyes on her. The party wasn't just a celebration of their love; it was a celebration of her.

"The preparations begin, then," Aiden muttered.

Carlisle nodded and left the room, no doubt off to inform the others that Ciara's demands would be met.

As much as Aiden understood that everyone's focus had shifted to more pressing matters—strategies, protection, survival—Ciara had made it abundantly clear that none of it mattered to her right now. She wanted the marking ceremony, and she wanted it now. The pack's attention had to be on her before anything else—before any looming threat or rogue wolves could steal her moment.

And if forcing the entire pack to set aside their worries for the sake of her celebration meant turning the house upside down with last-minute preparations, Ciara had no problem with that.

"Mom! I don't care. Next week!" Ciara's shrill voice echoed through the manor as she stormed through the front door. Her heels clicked against the tile, each step louder than the last. "Daddy!"

Laura, who had been going over details for the ceremony in her head, froze in the hallway at the sound of her daughter's demands. Her hands instinctively wrung together, fingers twisting nervously. "You're only giving me a week?" Laura's voice was tight, the weight of the impossible task already settling on her shoulders. "Ciara, darling, that's... impossible! You can't possibly be serious."

Ciara strode into the room, her eyes ablaze with determination, completely unfazed by her mother's distress. She tilted her head, her lips curling into a small, defiant smile. "Why not? Harry and I are ready. We've waited long enough."

Her tone was calm—too calm—and Laura knew there was no arguing with her. Ciara had made up her mind.

Laura's response was immediate; she turned and began pacing the room, her mind racing as she thought about all the tasks she would need to pull together in such a short amount of time. Her hands moved restlessly, fingers tugging at the hem of her blouse, while her voice rose with frustration. "But the flowers, the decorations, the catering, the guest list! Ciara, a week is simply not enough time!"

Ciara crossed her arms, unimpressed by her mother's growing panic. "I don't care. I just want the ceremony to happen next week. We've waited too long as it is."

Laura stopped pacing and turned to face her daughter, eyes wide with disbelief. "Sweetheart, a marking ceremony is more than just a formality. It's tradition. It's important to the pack—"

Ciara cut her off, her tone sharp. "It's important to me, Mother. I'm the one getting marked, and I won't wait another day. You'll figure it out." She flicked her gaze toward the ceiling as if the conversation bored her.

Laura's shoulders slumped slightly, her elegant composure faltering under the weight of her daughter's relentless demands. She looked at Ciara, trying to appeal to the part of her that still cared about the pack's needs—about the bigger picture—but all she saw was the selfish desire to have the world revolve around her.

And Laura knew that no amount of reason was going to change Ciara's mind. "But the decorations, the flowers, the catering, the guest list! Do you have any idea what it takes to plan a marking ceremony in a week?"

"You can make it happen. Just do whatever you have to do, okay?"

Laura stopped in her tracks, staring at her daughter like she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing.

Laura's shoulders sagged, and she reached up to touch Ciara's cheek. Her face was lined with worry, but there was a trace of resignation in her expression. She knew her daughter was right. "You've always been stubborn," Laura said with a half-hearted laugh, brushing a loose strand of hair from Ciara's face. "Fine. A week. But don't expect miracles."

A relieved smile spread across Ciara's face, and she hugged her mother tightly. "I trust you'll make it beautiful."

Laura sighed, already feeling the weight of what needed to be done in such a short time. "I'll need to call in every favor I've ever had."

Harry dragged himself in shortly after. He looked exhausted. Perhaps he was seeing what his life was about to be like for the next eternity.

Laura threw him a withering look.

The countdown had officially begun.

The week was a whirlwind of activity and our announcement was quickly put out of everyones mind. The preparations were nonstop—flowers, decorations, guest arrangements, and the ceremonial rites, all planned with care to reflect both tradition and modernity. Carlisle insisted that the ceremony take place at his estate—a sprawling manor with a sense of old-world grandeur but softened by the touch of time. The manor sat on several acres, its gardens carefully maintained, a place of calm and beauty.

For the pack, this ceremony had become a moment of reprieve. With the looming threat of the rogue wolves and the weight of Aiden's and my newly revealed roles as Lycan King and Queen, we all needed something to anchor us—something to remind us of love, unity, and why we fought so fiercely to protect our own.

The night before the ceremony, the manor was alive with preparations. Inside the estate, the scent of fresh blooms filled every room, and outside, the gardens were meticulously arranged for the ceremony. Rows of white chairs framed a stone pathway that led to a trellis covered in climbing roses. Lanterns hung from the trees, casting a soft, warm glow as the day shifted toward twilight. The sky overhead was clear, a soft, dusky purple as the last rays of sunlight slipped below the horizon.

I stood in one of the guest bedrooms, staring at myself in the mirror. My dress, a gift from Laura, clung to my frame with an elegant simplicity. Blue silk flowed from the neckline, cinched at the waist, then cascading in soft, fluid waves down to my feet. The gold embroidery at the edges shimmered in the fading light, catching on the soft breeze that filtered through the open windows.

My fingers traced the lace that framed my shoulders, the delicate pattern almost a second skin. I had braided my hair into loose waves, a few strands left to fall around my face, and I wore only a simple gold chain around my neck. There was a small knot of nervousness in my stomach, but it wasn't about the ceremony. It was the world beyond these walls—the uncertainty of what was coming for us, of what we would soon have to face.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts, and I turned to find Aiden leaning casually in the doorway. His eyes swept over me slowly, his usual calm demeanor shifting as he took in every detail of my appearance. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit, the dark fabric contrasting against his olive skin, his hair neatly styled, though a single lock had fallen forward, as it always did.

"You look beautiful," he murmured, stepping closer until he was just inches away. His voice was low, quiet, like he was speaking a secret just for me.

I smiled, feeling a warmth settle in my chest at the way he looked at me, as if I was the only thing in the world that mattered. "And you look... devastatingly handsome, as always."

His lips quirked into a soft smile, and he reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "I don't know if I'll ever get used to seeing you like this," he said, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and reverence. "You take my breath away every time."

I leaned into his touch, closing my eyes for a brief moment. His fingers lingered on my cheek, grounding me in the present. Despite the weight of the world that pressed on our shoulders, in this moment, it was just us. Aiden and Elara—Alpha and Luna, yes, but more than that, two souls who had found each other in the chaos.

"Are you ready for tonight?" I asked, my voice softer now.

He nodded, though there was a flicker of tension behind his eyes. "I am. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thinking about what's coming after."

I knew what he meant—the rogue packs, the looming conflict. There was a tension in the air that had nothing to do with tonight's ceremony. But we had promised ourselves we'd take this evening for what it was—a celebration of love and unity, a chance for the pack to feel joy before we faced the uncertainty of the coming days.

"Let's take tonight for us, for them," I said, reaching up to rest my hand against his chest. "We'll deal with the rest when it comes."

Aiden's gaze softened, and he bent down to press a kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering against my skin. "You're right," he whispered. "We have tonight."

The ceremony took place in the gardens at the back of Carlisle's estate. Rows of guests were already seated, the pack members dressed in their finest, their faces alight with excitement and anticipation. The stone pathway that led to the altar was lined with candles, flickering softly in the twilight. Overhead, the trellis was woven with climbing roses, their sweet fragrance filling the air, mingling with the scent of freshly cut grass.

The estate itself loomed in the background, its tall windows reflecting the soft glow of the lanterns. The gardens were the perfect setting—a place of beauty and peace amid the chaos of the outside world.

"Elara!" Dad waved to me.

I smiled, waving at my Dad and Mom. Mom looked like a basket case. Her eyes were red rimmed and her hair was slightly frizzy. A complete change from her usual put together self.

Ciara was breathtaking as she stood at the far end of the aisle, preparing to walk toward Harry. She wore a deep red gown, the fabric rich and flowing, a striking contrast against her pale skin. Her hair was left loose, cascading in soft waves down her back.

Harry stood waiting at the altar, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a quiet intensity. His black tux fit snugly against his broad shoulders, embroidered with silver runes of strength and protection. His eyes never left Ciara as she approached, a look of pure devotion in his gaze.

I stood beside Aiden at the front, our hands clasped together, a sense of calm washing over me as the ceremony began. Carlisle stood with us, his presence commanding yet gentle. He was proud of his daughter—anyone could see that—and he watched her with the protective eyes of a man who had raised a strong, capable woman.

The ceremony proceeded with soft murmurs. The words were ancient, binding, and as Ciara and Harry spoke their promises to each other, the energy in the air shifted, becoming heavier, more intimate.

When they exchanged their vows, I couldn't help but glance at Aiden, my heart swelling with emotion. This ceremony was for them, but it reminded me of the promises we had made to each other—promises to stand by one another, no matter what came next.

Just as Ciara and Harry completed their vows and the pack erupted into soft applause, the air in the garden seemed to shift—darken. A new presence had arrived, one that wasn't expected to be here.

I turned my head, and my breath caught in my throat. Alpha Conrad.

"Aiden," I whispered, gripping his arm as a sense of dread crept over me. "Why is he here? What is he doing here?"

Aiden's gaze followed mine, and I saw the brief flash of anger in his eyes as they landed on the figure at the edge of the garden. Alpha Conrad stood there, his broad frame casting a long shadow in the fading twilight. His posture was imposing, arms crossed, but his expression was unreadable. It wasn't love or affection that had brought him here—Conrad had avoided our own marking ceremony just two weeks ago. He hadn't cared then, so his presence now could only mean one thing: trouble.

Aiden's body tensed beside me, his grip on my hand tightening as Conrad took a step forward, his dark eyes scanning the gathering with an almost predatory gaze. He was here for one reason—to stir unrest. He thrived on it, and tonight, he had chosen our ceremony to cause a scene.

Without taking his eyes off Conrad, Aiden's jaw clenched. "I don't know what he wants, but it's nothing good."

Conrad's lips twisted into a thin smile as he finally met Aiden's gaze. "Didn't think I'd get an invitation to this little gathering," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, carrying across the crowd with unsettling ease. His eyes flicked to me briefly, cold and calculating. "But then again, I don't usually need an invitation, do I?"

A hush fell over the garden. The guests, who had been happily mingling just moments before, were now on edge, their eyes flicking nervously between the two Alphas. Even the wind seemed to still as the tension thickened in the air.

"You avoided my marking ceremony two weeks ago, Conrad," Aiden said, his voice calm but laced with steel. "Why show up now? What is it you're trying to prove?"

Conrad stepped forward, his expression unreadable but his posture radiating arrogance. "Oh, Aiden, I didn't come here to prove anything," he said, voice smooth and mocking. "I'm here to support my future Beta. The one who hasn't been home in quite some time."

My stomach churned as I watched Conrad's eyes sweep over the crowd, as if daring anyone to disagree with him. He was known for mismanaging his pack—driving them through fear rather than unity. His territory had been slipping into chaos for months, with rogue wolves gaining strength on his borders, but instead of managing his own problems, he'd come here to disrupt ours. He was a coward hiding behind bravado.

Before Aiden could respond, Conrad's eyes locked onto me again, a malicious smirk curling his lips. "Elara," he said, drawing out my name in a way that made my skin crawl. "I see you're here slumming it with the outcasts. Didn't listen like you never do."

I felt a surge of anger rise in my chest, my wolf stirring beneath my skin at the insult. This wasn't about me or even Aiden—Conrad was here to undermine everything we stood for. He wanted to see us lose control, to sow doubt among the pack, and I wasn't going to let him. But before I could speak, Dad stepped forward, his presence a calming yet commanding force.

"Let's leave the pissing matches for later, Conrad," Dad said, his voice low but filled with authority that left no room for argument. "This is my son's ceremony."

Conrad's eyes flicked to Dad, his smirk never wavering. "This isn't about Harry's ceremony, Beta," he said, his tone flippant. "This is about unfinished business between Alphas."

The tension in the garden was thick enough to cut with a knife, the quiet murmurs of the guests replaced with uneasy silence. I could feel Aiden's anger building beside me, his body coiled with the readiness for a confrontation, but it was Ciara who cut through the air like a blade.

"That's enough," Ciara's voice rang out, sharp and commanding, her fiery personality showing itself in full force. She stepped forward, her eyes blazing as she met Conrad's gaze without a trace of fear. "This is my day, and I won't have it ruined by a childish display of dominance. If you can't respect that, you can leave. Now. Nobody will outshine me!"

For a moment, Conrad's smug expression faltered, clearly taken aback by Ciara's boldness. With one final, lingering look, Conrad turned on his heel and disappeared into the shadows of the garden, leaving a heavy silence in his wake.

Aiden let out a slow breath beside me, his body still tense as the confrontation hung in the air. I could feel his protective instincts flaring, the unspoken promise that if he crossed a line again, there would be consequences. But for tonight, at least, the tension seemed to fade as he disappeared.

Aiden turned to me, his eyes searching mine. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly, concern evident in his voice.

I nodded, though my heart was still racing from the encounter. "I'm fine."

Aiden's jaw tightened, his hand resting protectively on my lower back.

As the guests slowly began to relax, mingling once more and trying to shake off the tension that Conrad had brought with him, Harry and Ciara slipped away from the gathering, retreating to the manor for the final, most intimate part of the ceremony.