In the quiet sanctuary of the Queen's office, the air felt thick with the scent of jasmine and something sharper- the ozone of raw power. Violet sat perched on the edge of the velvet chair, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
"How?" Violet whispered, her voice trembling but her gaze unwavering. "Mack is so certain that my humanity is a glass wall I'm about to crash through. What is the tipping point, Your Majesty? Does my heart just… stop being human?"
Selene set her teacup down with a delicate clink. "It is a process of three parts, little lioness. It begins with the soul, which the mate bond has already stitched together. It continues with the body, which requires the catalyst of Mack's mating mark- the physical anchor that will bind his immortality to your blood. But for a human to survive that transition without breaking… it requires a bridge."
Selene stood and walked toward Violet, her movements so fluid she seemed to be drifting on a current of light. "It requires divine intervention. I must prepare the vessel before the wine is poured."
Selene reached out, her palms upturned. "May I hold your hand, Violet? Your bare hand?"
Violet hesitated for a fraction of a second. To touch the Queen was to touch the Goddess; it was a surrender of the self to the divine. But then she thought of Mack, standing outside the door, drowning in his own fear for her. She thought of the library, the snow, and the thousands of years she wanted to spend by his side.
She reached out and placed her hand in Selene's.
The Queen's skin was cool, like polished marble, but as she sandwiched Violet's hand between hers and closed her eyes, the temperature began to climb. Selene took a deep, grounding breath.
Violet watched, breathless, as a warm, white glow ignited deep within the Queen's chest. It wasn't a fire; it was moonlight, pure and radiant. The light traveled down Selene's slender arms, pulsing like a second heartbeat, until it poured into her hands and flooded into Violet.
Violet's head snapped back. It didn't hurt- it felt like being filled with the first warm day of spring after a century of winter. Every cell in her body seemed to hum.
Then, Selene's eyes snapped open.
Violet gasped. The Queen's pupils were gone. Her eyes had turned a brilliant, vivid purple, with swirls of white light dancing within them like galaxies in motion. For that moment, Selene was not a woman; she was the night's moon given form.
The glow reached a crescendo, a silent explosion of warmth that settled into Violet's marrow, and then, as quickly as it had begun, it receded. Selene blinked, the purple fading back into her gentle, pale blue eyes. She released Violet's hand and stepped back, a motherly, serene smile gracing her lips.
"There," Selene whispered. "When you transform, Violet, you will be the first white Lycan I have ever created. Your fur will be the color of the moon's crest. I have given you my divine blessing to shift and to walk as a Lycan for the rest of your days. Now, the bridge is built. It is up to the mate bond to do the rest."
Violet sat in stunned silence, her hand still tingling where the Goddess had held it. She felt… different. Heavier, yet lighter. The colors in the room seemed more vibrant, the edges of the furniture sharper.
"I… I don't know what to say," Violet stammered. "I've read so many stories about royals, Your Majesty. In the histories, they are often cruel, or they see humans as nothing more than labor or scenery. I didn't expect… this."
Selene chuckled, reaching out to pat Violet's cheek. "The histories are written by men who value power over love. But remember, Violet, I am not just a Queen. I am the Mother of the Wolves. And you are becoming one of my daughters. Now, go. Your mate is likely about to claw his way through my door."
Violet emerged from the office, her legs feeling slightly like jelly but her spirit soaring. True to Selene's word, Mack was standing exactly where she had left him. He wasn't invisible, but he was pacing a three-foot strip of carpet with the agitated energy of a caged panther.
The moment the door opened, his obsidian eyes locked onto hers, scanning her face for any sign of distress.
"Are you alright? Did she- " He stopped, his nose wrinkling as he caught the new scent lingering on her. It was the scent of the Moon herself.
"I'm more than alright, Mack Woods," Violet said, a sassy glint returning to her eyes. She reached out and hooked her arm through his, surprising him with the firmness of her grip. "I'm hungry, I'm enlightened, and I'm ready for a tour. Show me the gardens. I want to see where the Goddess keeps her 'animal friends' I've read about."
Mack looked like he wanted to argue, to whisk her away to a quiet room and interrogate her about the "white Lycan" comment he had undoubtedly overheard with his enhanced hearing, but he saw the stubborn set of her jaw and gave in.
"The gardens it is," he mumbled, though he didn't pull his arm away.
As they stepped out into the Royal Gardens, Violet felt as though she had walked into a living painting. Despite the northern chill that should have reigned, the Queen's power kept the gardens in a state of eternal, lush bloom. Wisteria draped from marble arches, and flowers Violet couldn't even name breathed perfume into the air.
But it wasn't the flowers that caught her breath.
"Oh!" Violet gasped, stopping dead in her tracks.
A few yards away, grazing peacefully on a patch of clover, was a creature of myth. It was a deer, but its coat was as white as fallen snow, its eyes a soft, intelligent pink.
"Is that… Lily?" Violet whispered, her inner fan-girl emerging. "I read about her in an interview with the Queen from months ago!"
Mack watched her excitement with a softened expression. "That's her. She's the queen of this garden. She knows she's special."
As if hearing her name, Lily lifted her head. She looked at Violet, her ears twitching.
Most deer would have bolted, but Lily walked forward with a regal, dainty grace. She stopped inches from Violet, sniffing the air.
"She smells the blessing on you," Mack noted.
Violet reached out a trembling hand, and Lily pressed her wet, velvet nose into Violet's palm. "Hello, Lily," Violet whispered. "You're even more beautiful than the pictures."
"She's also a thief," Mack added dryly. "If you have any apples in your pockets, say goodbye to them."
Violet laughed, but her attention was pulled away by a sudden scrabble of claws. A squirrel with a particularly fluffy grey coat and a very stern expression sat on a nearby stone bench, chattering angrily at them.
"And that," Mack said, pointing a finger, "is Freddie. Or 'Grouchy,' as the Seven call him. He thinks he owns the east wing of the garden. He's currently telling you to move because you're blocking the path to his favorite oak tree."
"Oh, hush, Freddie," Violet teased, leaning down to his level. "There's plenty of room for both of us."
Freddie flicked his tail, gave a huff that sounded remarkably like a tiny sneeze, and scurried off, but not before pausing to look back at Violet with a curious tilt of his head.
"He likes you," Mack translated. "If he didn't, he would have thrown an acorn at your head. He's got remarkable aim."
Suddenly, a flash of blue and gold plummeted from the sky. Violet flinched instinctively, but the weight that landed on her shoulder was light and precise. A small, vibrant bird with a yellow breast and iridescent wings settled there, preening its feathers as if it had belonged there all along.
"Joan," Mack introduced with a sigh. "Joan likes hanging around on people's shoulders. She's a gossip. She'll stay there for an hour if you let her, listening to everything you say."
Violet turned her head, her nose nearly brushing Joan's beak. "Hello, Joan. Do you have any secrets to tell me about Mack? Does he snore?"
Joan let out a sharp, melodic chirp and nipped playfully at Violet's earlobe.
"She says yes," Mack grumbled, though his ears went a bit red.
As they walked further, another squirrel- this one smaller and much more frantic than Freddie- jumped onto Mack's boot and began climbing up his leg.
"This is Happy," Mack said, standing perfectly still as the squirrel reached his shoulder and began patting his cheek with tiny paws. "He has no sense of personal space or dignity."
Violet watched as the legendary Ghost of the Seven, the most feared assassin in the kingdom, stood patiently while a squirrel searched his hair for nuts. The contrast was so absurdly sweet that she felt a lump form in her throat. This was the man he was behind the veil. This was the heart he was so afraid would be corrupted by the "change."
"You're very good with them, Mack," she said softly.
Mack reached up, gently lifting Happy and placing him on a low-hanging branch.
"They don't care about the wars I've fought. They just care if I'm standing in the sun. It's… easier with them."
They spent the afternoon wandering through the animals of the Goddess. They met Barnaby, a fat toad who lived by the fountain and stared at them with judgmental golden eyes, and Pip, a tiny rabbit who was so fast he was nothing more than a blur of brown fur.
Each animal seemed to recognize the shift in Violet. They didn't treat her like a stranger or a fragile human; they treated her like a new addition to the family.
As the sun began to set, casting a golden-rose hue over the garden, they found a secluded stone bench tucked away near a curtain of weeping willows. Joan was still perched on Violet's shoulder, occasionally chirping a comment into her ear.
Violet sat down, pulling Mack down beside her. She felt the strength of him, the sheer physical presence that had once terrified her but now felt like home.
"Mack?" she asked, her voice turning serious. "The Queen told me what the change will be like. She gave me her blessing so I wouldn't break."
Mack went still, his hand resting on the bench behind her. "She told you about the white Lycan."
"She did. She said I won't be losing my humanity, I'll be expanding it. I'll be able to live as long as you. I'll be able to run with you." She turned to him, her brown eyes searching his obsidian ones. "You don't have to be afraid for me anymore. The Goddess has already cleared the path."
Mack looked away, watching Lily graze in the distance. "I've spent three centuries expecting the worst, Violet. It's hard to believe in a 'blessing' when you've seen so much curse."
"Then believe in me," Violet said, reaching up to turn his face back to hers. "Believe in the girl who was brave enough to threaten to punch a logger just to get you to talk. I'm not going to break, Mack. I'm going to be the moon to your shadow."
Mack stared at her for a long beat. He saw the fierce light in her eyes, the new strength in the way she held herself, and the way the garden's animals had accepted her as one of their own.
Slowly, the tension that had gripped him since Aurora Creek began to unravel. He leaned in, his forehead resting against hers, Joan letting out a soft, encouraging peep from her shoulder.
"A white Lycan," Mack whispered, a trace of wonder finally entering his voice. "You're going to be a nightmare to keep track of in the snow."
Violet laughed, a loud, joyful sound that echoed through the Queen's garden. "Then you'll just have to work harder at being the King's eyes, won't you?"
They sat there in the fading light, a Ghost and his future moon, surrounded by the animals of a Goddess and the promise of a thousand years. The change was coming, and for the first time, Mack didn't look for the exit. He simply closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of honey, winter air, and the woman who had brought him back to life.