Page 24 of His Lucky Charm

“Now I’m calculating how long this ceremony will last and whether we’ll have time for private celebrations afterward.” I arched an eyebrow. “For research purposes, of course.”

His laugh echoed through the trees as we began the climb to the stone circle. “I’ve created a monster. A sex-obsessed academic monster.”

“You’re one to talk,” I retorted. “Or have you forgotten last week’s ‘urgent research session’ in my office at the university?”

“That was vital data collection,” he protested with mock seriousness. “Testing the sound-proofing of academic buildings is practically a public service.”

Our banter continued as we climbed, the familiar path now easy for me despite the darkness. When we reached the clearing, however, conversation ceased, the sacred nature of the space demanding respect.

The stone circle gleamed in the moonlight, ancient and powerful. Around the perimeter, pack members had already gathered, dressed in ceremonial attire or simple robes they could quickly remove before transformation. In the center, the altar stone had been decorated with offerings—fresh herbs, local honey, handcrafted tokens representing the town’s prosperity.

The eldest pack member, a woman named Moira who had seen more than ninety years and still transformed with the grace of a much younger Guardian, approached us with a warm smile.

“Rafferty. Dr. Byrne. Welcome.” Her voice carried the lilt of old Ireland, preserved through generations in America. “A perfect night for the Blessing, wouldn’t you say?”

“Perfect indeed, Elder,” Rafferty agreed, inclining his head respectfully. “We’re honored to participate.”

“As you should be.” Her eyes, sharp despite her years, fixed on me. “Your first Blessing as official mate, Dr. Byrne. Are you prepared?”

I nodded, patting the ceremonial pouch. “I’ve studied the ritual thoroughly. The offering is ready.”

“Good, good.” She patted my arm approvingly. “You’ve adapted well to our ways. Faster than most humans.”

“He’s exceptional,” Rafferty said, the pride in his voice making my cheeks warm.

“Indeed he is.” Moira’s smile turned sly. “Though I suspect your patience in answering his endless questions has helped.”

“They’re not endless,” I protested. “Merely thorough.”

Both Guardians laughed, the sound harmonizing in a way that highlighted their connection despite the age difference. Moira gestured toward the altar.

“Take your places. The moon reaches its apex soon.”

We moved to our designated positions—Rafferty near the center as future Alpha, me slightly behind him as his human mate. Around the circle, other pack members arranged themselves according to rank and role, creating a living representation of pack hierarchy.

As the moon climbed higher, silence fell over the gathering. Moira stepped forward, raising gnarled hands toward the sky.

“Under the Guardian Moon, we gather,” she intoned, voice stronger than her frame suggested. “As our ancestors have done since the First Crossing. As their ancestors did in the Old Country. As we shall continue until the last wolf howls.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the circle.

“We renew our sacred trust with the land that shelters us, with the town that sustains us, with each other who strengthen us.”

At her gesture, Rafferty stepped forward. As future Alpha, his role in the ceremony was central—a rehearsal for when he would eventually lead it himself.

“I, Rafferty O’Sullivan, son of James, grandson of Patrick, descendant of Conor the First Crossed, stand before the pack and the moon as Guardian-to-Be. I offer my strength, my loyalty, my life to the protection of our territory and our people.”

His voice resonated with authority that made my chest swell with pride. This was the man I loved—powerful, responsible, committed to something greater than himself.

“Who stands with you?” Moira asked, following the ritual script.

Rafferty turned, extending his hand toward me. “Dr. Eliot Byrne, my chosen mate, stands with me.”

This was my cue. I stepped forward, taking his outstretched hand. “I stand with Rafferty O’Sullivan, not as Guardian but as guardian—of history, of knowledge, of the stories that bind pack to place and past to future.”

The words I’d crafted myself, approved by the elders as an appropriate adaptation for a human mate, felt right on my tongue. I wasn’t just a footnote in their ceremony—I was carving out my own essential role.

Moira nodded approval. “What do you offer to the pack, to the land, to the covenant?”