Page 29 of His Lucky Charm

She nodded understanding. “Dual ceremonies work well. Henry and I did the church wedding for my family, then the pack bonding under the full moon. Best of both worlds.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.” I twisted the new ring on my finger, still getting used to its presence. “Though I draw the line at any ritual that requires me to chase or be chased through the forest. These legs are strictly human-paced.”

Valerie laughed. “The chase is traditional but not mandatory. Besides, I’ve seen how Rafferty looks at you—he’d never let you get more than arm’s length away anyway.”

Her observation was proved correct moments later when Rafferty materialized at my side, drawn as if by magnetic force after being separated for all of fifteen minutes.

“Missing me, Professor?” he teased, though the way his hand immediately found the small of my back suggested he’d been equally aware of our separation.

“Terribly,” I deadpanned. “These whole minutes without you have been unbearable.”

His laugh rumbled through his chest. “Smart ass.” He turned to Valerie. “Mind if I steal him away? The elders want to do the traditional blessing before moonset.”

Valerie shooed us with a smile. “Go, go. Blessings wait for no man… or wolf.”

Rafferty guided me through the now-quieter pub to the small courtyard out back, where the pack elders had gathered beneath the waning full moon. This month’s full moon had coincided perfectly with the festival, an auspicious sign according to Guardian tradition.

Moira stood at the center of the small circle, her diminutive frame belying her authority as eldest pack member. Around her stood the other elders—four men and three women whose ages ranged from sixty to nearly a hundred, all still active Guardians despite their years.

“Approach, Alpha-to-Be and Chosen Mate,” Moira intoned formally, using the traditional titles.

We stepped forward, Rafferty’s hand warm and steady in mine. After three years, these rituals no longer felt foreign or theatrical—they were simply part of the culture I had embraced as my own.

“Under the Guardian Moon, we acknowledge the bond between Rafferty O’Sullivan, son of James, grandson of Patrick, descendant of Conor the First Crossed, and Dr. Eliot Byrne, Keeper of Histories, Preserver of Knowledge, Chosen of the Alpha Line.”

The formal recitation of our titles sent a shiver of pride through me. I had earned my place in this community not just as Rafferty’s partner, but through my own contributions to pack knowledge and tradition.

“Your intention to formalize your bond through human and Guardian rituals has been declared,” Moira continued. “Do you seek the blessing of the pack elders for this union?”

“We do,” Rafferty responded, his voice deep and steady. I echoed his words a moment later.

Moira smiled, dropping the formal tone briefly. “Well, it’s about time. We’ve been waiting years for you two to make it official.”

The other elders chuckled, nodding agreement. Apparently, our relationship timeline had been a topic of discussion among the pack leadership.

“The elders recognize and bless this union,” Moira declared, returning to the ritual language. “May your bond strengthen the pack, honor our traditions, and bring joy to your hearts.”

One by one, the elders approached to offer personal blessings—some in English, some in Irish, some in the older language of the first Guardians that I was still struggling to master. Each pressed their palms to our foreheads in the traditional gesture of pack recognition.

When the last elder had offered their blessing, Moira produced a small wooden box carved with the pack’s symbol.

“For you, Dr. Byrne,” she said, opening it to reveal a silver pendant on a leather cord. “The Alpha-Mate’s Token, passed down through generations. Traditionally given upon formal engagement.”

I recognized the pendant from my research—a stylized wolf’s head surrounded by a protective circle, crafted in silver that would burn a Guardian but could be safely worn by their human partners. It symbolized the human mate’s unique position: connected to the pack but not bound by the same limitations.

“I’m honored,” I said sincerely as Moira placed it around my neck. The pendant felt warm against my skin, as if absorbing my body heat.

“Wear it with pride,” she instructed. “It marks you as under pack protection and grants you certain… authorities in Rafferty’s absence.”

The implications weren’t lost on me. This wasn’t just a symbolic gift—it was a transfer of actual power within pack hierarchy. As Rafferty’s recognized mate, I would have standing to speak for him when necessary, to make decisions affecting pack welfare if he was unavailable.

It was trust of the highest order.

Rafferty’s expression confirmed the significance, his eyes shining with pride and something deeper as he watched the ceremony unfold. When Moira stepped back, he reached out to touch the pendant where it rested against my chest.

“Perfect,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. “It belongs with you.”

The ceremony concluded with a traditional howl—the elders shifting briefly to wolf form to voice their approval to the night sky. Rafferty joined them, his transformation smooth and practiced after years of embracing both sides of his nature. I remained in human form, of course, but added my voice to the chorus in what had become my personal tradition—a human howl among wolves, different but accepted.