CHAPTER 61: _ AWAKENING CEREMONY (THE DECISION)

The moment Heidi pushes herself up from the bench, her knees feel like they’re made of shaky glass. The kind you see in old greenhouses, trembling with the slightest breeze, and ready to splinter with a touch. Her legs are uncooperative, but she forces them to move, one foot after the other, because if she doesn’t rise now, she knows she never will.

Every single pair of eyes shifts to her again, and she instantly regrets not sprouting wings to fly out the nearest window. Preferably into the horizon. Preferably never to return. But no, apparently the Moon forgot to bless her with bird powers.

She squares her shoulders anyway, because what’s the point of hiding? They’ve already sniffed out her fear a long time ago. Wolves were terrible like that—they smelled emotions, tasted them in the air like wine. And Heidi? She was basically a walking buffet of insecurity.

"NO WAY! She’s a moon blessed after all?"

"Who dressed her up so flamboyantly then?"

"She must have stolen the dress!"

The commentaries from the various students who have been wondering about her and finally got their answers are unending as they collide with other speculations in the hall.

The hall is too loud now. Whispers scatter like gusts of wind, quieted down at first, then swelling, rippling, turning into currents that seem to push her along. Her name is passed around like something fragile. Heidi. Heidi. Heidi. Not in admiration but in the tone one reserves for gossip, the kind you spit into your hand so no one hears, yet hope everyone does which makes her wonder how they knew her name:

The answer then comes in the form of Sierra’s voice cutting straight through the buzz.

"Oh, look! It’s Heidi Grace again! I bet her wolf is a weakling like her!" Sierra doesn’t just say it, she shouts it, making sure every last person in the great hall hears.

Her three shadows who are always in orbit around her like badly dressed moons burst into laughter so shrill it could strip bark from trees.

Heidi freezes for a second. Her lungs forget how to do their job, and her throat tightens as though invisible fingers are wrapped around it. She dares a glance in their direction and there they are. Sierra has her arms folded, chin high, tossing her perfect hair as if it were her who invented gravity. Her friends mirror her movements, like synchronized dancers, each one waiting for Sierra’s cue to laugh, sneer, or roll their eyes. They sit close in the same row as the NAY boys, probably because they are also daughters of the pack leaders.

Heidi wonders why Lira isn’t in their idiotic group since she’s Nash’s sister. Anyway, that’s the least of Heidi’s problems now.

"Go, Heidi! Show everyone how worthless you are and how I will forever remain your queen!" Sierra screams again and her friends continue to cheer her on.

Every instinct in Heidi begs her to look at Sierra’s smug face and throw something heavy at it. Instead, she fixes her gaze forward, back straight like a soldier marching to certain execution.

Her hands tremble, but she clenches them into fists. Ignore her. Just ignore her. Don’t give her the satisfaction.

Sierra might be Lucan’s sister, but they were night and day. Where Sierra burned like a wildfire of malice, Lucan was a quiet shadow, soft-spoken and thoughtful. Heidi had never realized until today that his silence wasn’t weakness—it was rebellion. And now, that silent rebellion was sitting somewhere behind her, watching, probably praying she didn’t faint in front of the entire school.

She climbs the steps to the massive stage where over a hundred and fifty other Moon Blessed already stand in stiff, nervous rows. The wooden planks creak under her weight, but no one pays her much mind now as attention drifts back to the spectacle at hand.

Once everyone is settled, a teacher Heidi doesn’t recognize rises from her seat at the front. She’s tall, elegant, and dressed in a sharply cut black suit that screams authority. Her dark hair is pulled into a severe bun, and her sharp features give her the look of someone who has sent more than a few trembling wolves straight into tears.

"Attention," the teacher’s voice cuts across the buzzing tension like a whip. Immediately, the noise dies down. "You will follow instructions exactly as I say. One by one, each of you will strike the measure and your wolf’s strength will be revealed to all. What you do here will be remembered. What you show here will decide the path ahead. Do not waste the Moon’s blessing."

A collective shiver moves through the stage. Heidi swallows.

The teacher’s gaze hardens, sweeping across the rows of young wolves like a hawk. "And let me be clear. If anyone here attempts to cheat, to deceive the Moon’s will, you will wish you had gone into the Umbralis labyrinth instead and perished there. Because what awaits a liar in this place is far worse than death."

Heidi’s stomach groans. Great. Just fantastic. They don’t even try to hide the fact that the labyrinth is kinder than they are.

The teacher snaps her fingers, and another instructor whom Heidi decides that After Corvin, he’s the scariest. He has a permanent scowl and definitely a penchant for barking at students as he storms to the front.

"Form a line! Male, female, male, female!"

Of course, chaos breaks out. Everyone scrambles at once, elbowing and tripping over each other like it’s a race to not be first. The air fills with muttered curses, sharp shoves, and at least one yelp that sounds like someone lost a shoe.

"Idiots! Blockheads!" Corvin bellows. "It’s a line, not a battle formation!"

It takes another round of barking, scolding, and shuffling before some semblance of order emerges. Heidi finds herself sandwiched between a girl who looks like he could eat a cow raw and another who’s already trembling so hard she might faint. Perfect company.

Standing in line now, Heidi doesn’t know whose idea to take: Lucan, who wants her to put survival first and live the rest of her life being trampled upon, Grayson and Morgan who seem to share a similar view to Lucan’s, or Amias and Darien who also seem to share similar views.

One is that of an offer of support and the other, a dare. What does she do?