"Simplicity is the best ceremony."
{SETH'S POV}
The dinner table was set with elegant cuisine, its presentation immediately capturing my attention. At the head of the table sat Alpha Augustus, the host—an imposing figure whose ruthless demeanor only added to his intimidating presence. My father was seated beside me, to Augustus's right, while my mother sat across from him, placing her at Augustus's left. My sister sat directly opposite me. Two seats remained empty: one beside me and one across from Augustus.
They were clearly reserved for Augustus's mate, Anna, and his daughter, Roxanne—who, in accordance with our arranged marriage, was expected to become my mate. We hadn't begun the meal yet; we were waiting for Anna and Roxanne to join us. Anna had been present earlier but had gone upstairs to fetch her daughter.
I was under no illusion about Roxanne's feelings. She didn't love me—perhaps never would—but that didn't trouble me. Not really.
When Augustus's face darkened with a scowl, I expected him to bellow for them. But just in time, they descended the staircase, sparing him the need. Roxanne's beauty stole the breath from my lungs as she glided down the steps in a gown that hugged her curves with stunning precision. I inhaled deeply, unable to look away. She was flawless.
Roxanne took the seat beside me, her presence magnetic, but as I met her gaze, I noticed the exhaustion in her features and the telltale sheen in her eyes. She looked defeated, and her bowed head spoke volumes. She didn't even greet my parents. My mother's eyes flashed with annoyance, while my sister's gaze simmered with jealousy.
Seeking to diffuse the tension, my father spoke. "Augustus, I haven't seen Michael. Is he on a mission? With the full moon just three days away, I'd think it risky to have your men out there."
Michael, a renowned Beta, was as eccentric as he was powerful. As Augustus's favored Beta, his name carried weight. Yet upon hearing it, Augustus's expression turned grim.
"To be frank, Michael has gone rogue," he said, voice laced with something between concern and regret. "He killed one of our own—a young Omega—just days ago. I sent a team of five, led by Lincoln, to bring him in. They're overdue, and I'm growing increasingly concerned."
"Impossible!" Martha blurted, her outburst bordering on disrespect. My father shot her a warning glare, silencing her with a grunt.
I couldn't blame her. Martha had always had a soft spot for Michael. With his shoulder-length white hair and striking features, he was hard to ignore. Back in our pack, she'd spoken of him often—always a bit too fondly, always a bit too wistful. She'd even once called him more handsome than me.
"What could have driven him to do such a thing?" my mother asked, her brow furrowed in concern. I caught the edge in her tone, rooted in her long-standing mistrust of the Ashwood Pack—and Augustus himself.
"There's no reasoning with it," Augustus said flatly. "He snapped. Frankly, he was as good as dead anyway. The team will confirm it soon. Let's not dwell on this tonight. We have a celebration to honor."
He picked up his utensils and began eating with deliberate intensity. The clinking of silver on china filled the room.
My father nodded and began eating with practiced elegance. My mother and sister followed suit, while Anna poked at her food, eyes flicking between her daughter and me. Roxanne hadn't touched her plate. Occasionally, her mother shot me a look that could burn through steel. I remained composed, sipping my wine with casual grace.
Leaning slightly toward Roxanne, I spoke in a low voice, "You should eat something. You'll need your strength for what's ahead."
Her expression soured. She pulled her hand from mine, though the effort was weak. A Beta against an Alpha—there was never a contest. Still, the venom in her eyes said enough.
Sensing the tension that threatened to unravel the evening, Augustus shifted the conversation. "I've heard rumors that the Prime Alpha will summon us to the Compound soon," he said. "I wonder what he intends to discuss."
At the mention of the Prime Alpha, a collective chill settled over the table. Even Roxanne, distracted as she was, flinched.
In our world, there were many Alphas, but only one Prime Alpha. The strongest among us—feared, revered, and possibly something other than werewolf entirely. His strength and speed defied belief. After consolidating power, his first decree had been to alter our traditions to suit his vision.
One of his most radical changes was to simplify weddings—no more festivities, no more music, no more joy. He believed such things were beneath us, remnants of humanity we should have long discarded. When a small pack dared to defy him, hosting a wedding celebration with music and laughter, his enforcers wiped them out. Every last one. Even the groom's pack was destroyed.
Since then, our weddings were subdued affairs. Somber. Silent. Conducted by night and witnessed only by the immediate families.
Bitterness pooled in my gut whenever I thought of him—not quite hatred, but a gnawing envy. He was an Alpha, like me. So why did he stand so far above the rest of us?
Pushing the thought aside, I rejoined the conversation. "It's been a long time since he summoned all the Alphas. Whatever it is, it must be serious."
"It always is," my father replied, swirling the wine in his glass. "But for now, it's speculation."
Augustus stood suddenly, drawing the attention of the entire table. In the general wolf tongue, he spoke a single, commanding word: "Ratrisatu"—"Rise."
We all stood, instinctively recognizing the ritual.
Lifting his wine glass, Augustus locked eyes with Roxanne and me. Then, in the ancient language, he proclaimed,
"Tahatu bafurtaha furfa yafurfir wanratu nafurwa jafurtrinatuda tafurgatutahatura."
"The both of you are now joined together."
The words, steeped in tradition, carried an undeniable weight. We raised our glasses in unison and drank. I watched Roxanne. She sipped, barely.
Then came the most important part.
Without needing instruction, I reached for her hand. She flinched, pulling away, but my grip was firm. She was no match for me.
Augustus watched, his expression unreadable. He said nothing, only turned his gaze forward and spoke in a neutral tone. "The rooms upstairs are available. Choose one that suits your needs."
I nodded. Taking Roxanne's hand again, I led her up the stairs. Her steps faltered, resistance in every motion. But I held fast. Without me, she might have refused to go at all.
And even now, with all eyes on us, her reluctance rang louder than any words she could've spoken.