Chapter 8 — Figure It Out

• “I woke all of you this morning to inform each of you about the ritual coming up today and how I wouldn’t be around to prepare breakfast for everyone. Which means get something random to eat till when I come back. I instructed one of you to take the carton of turkey out of the freezer so when I come back, I will prepare lunch for everyone.” She pointed at the carton of turkey behind us and rested her hands on her hips. “This is the time each of you is taking it out of the freezer, right?”
• “Mom, we are sorry.” Damon apologized. “We totally forgot you —”
• “You forgot?” My mother raised her voice in annoyance.
• Slade walked into the kitchen when he stopped midway behind my mother and looked at each of us in a confused expression, wondering what was going on.
• “The turkey has frozen. What are we going to eat this afternoon? Your father is coming back from his meeting with the clan. How are you going to explain to him what you just did?”
• Slade made an ‘Oops’ expression and tiptoed back away from the kitchen and ran off.
• “One of you couldn’t do one simple task.” My mom yells. “I’ve been out for hours and this is what I came home to see? You are alphas for crying out. If you can’t do one simple task, how are you going to lead your people in the future?” She took out her phone from her purse.
• “By failure, of course.” Ren joked from above us from the staircase with a chuckle. Slade burst out laughing alongside him upstairs. We couldn't see them but I could definitely hear them. My mom threw her shoes on the floor and went to the staircase as she complained to my dad on the phone.
• “Davis, these kids aren’t serious in life.” I heaved a deep sigh, knowing once my stepfather comes home, he’s going to give us one hell of a warning. For two days, our ears were sore from my parent’s complaints and since that day, each of us vowed to always do what we are told to do. One evening, while we were having dinner. All of us stayed in our respective chairs, eating normally as usual.
• “Damon, pass the salt.” Grimm said and stirred the pasta on his plate. He licked the stew of his fork. “Damon.” He called again.
• “What!” Damon grumbled.
• “I said you should pass me the salt.” He said again.
• “Yeah, really?”
• “Yeah.” Grimm nodded.
• Damon nodded. He took the salt and sprinkled it on his food, then dropped it alongside him.
• “What are you doing?” Grimm asked.
• “Remember that time I asked you for salt?”
• “What?”
• “Yeah, four years ago.” He explained. “You told me to figure it out. So, I’m saying the same thing to you, “Figure it out, Grimm.”
• “You are so useless and petty.” Grimm insulted. “How could you remember something from four years ago?”
• Slade stretched out his hand to the salt beside Damon and shoved it to Grimm with a chuckle across the table. “Take it.”
• “Thanks Slade.” Grimm took the salt.
• “Damon, that was four years ago.” Ren laughed. “How do you remember something like that?!”
• “Yeah, he deserves it.” He complains. “I just wanted him to know how it felt when he did it to me.”
• “You are an adult, Damon.” My stepfather’s gaze left his food. “Not a baby.”
• My mom and the others couldn’t help laughing, except for Gifford, who acted like he wasn’t part of the others.
• My stepfather called Gifford’s attention. “You are going to lead Braila through the moon’s rite in two days.”
• The Moon Rite is something sacred, almost magical. It happens under the full moon, when the air feels thick with energy. The pack gathers in a circle around a roaring fire, their eyes glowing in the dim light. There’s a sense of unity, a bond that words can’t explain.
• We howl together, our voices rising into the night, calling to the moon as if she can hear us. It’s wild and freeing—a reminder that we’re more than human, connected to something ancient and powerful. For that brief second, everything feels right, like we belong completely. The moon goddess shines her light upon us in agreement with our ritual. Since I was the daughter of the leader of the Bratvas pack and not crowned as the princess of the clan, it is unfair to the others.
• They would perceive me as an outcast because accepting myself as part of the Bratvas pack is getting crowned as the princess of the clan and accepting the moon goddess as my god.
• I was 18 years old, and it was the right time for the ritual. I could stand the power and the seal of being part of the clan. If I was any younger, I would either get sick or die. It is a little scratchy. So, someone powerful from the clan must support the moon goddess’ light on me. Once the light shines on me and nothing happens, she definitely accepts me to withhold her power and stay with her people.
• Everyone’s gazes switched between Gifford and me in anticipation. My left hand felt wet through the fork I held onto my pasta. I felt nervous. Why did it have to be Gifford to lead me through the moon ritual? Can’t it be Grayson or Bane? If it were Grimm or Damon, it would be preferable. Gifford let his long black hair out of his ponytail, down his shoulders. He sighed and said. “I’m not doing it.”
• The atmosphere got silent. The look on everyone’s faces was enough to know it was about to go down because everyone knows Gifford as the stubborn alpha and son of Davis Kandarian.
• “Why aren’t you doing it, Gifford?”
• “I’m quite busy, father. Let the others do it.” He arrogantly stated.
• “Your older brothers will have their hands full with the company and the pack. You are next in line to handle what comes next with the pack.”
• “Use someone else,” Gifford retorted. “Bane can do it.” He stared at Bane. “He can lead Braila through the moon ritual and crown her as the Omega princess of the Bratvas clan in front of the pack.” He sarcastically adds. “What are wolves without a pack?”
• My stepfather insists. “You look capable of leading Braila, Gifford. Bane doesn’t have the powers of the moon yet. He hasn’t completely mastered it, unlike you who has.”
• “I’m still working on controlling my powers. Bane doesn’t have any problems with it. Unlike me, who has issues with controlling it.” He snapped his piece of bread onto the table. “Let Bane do it or Grayson. He is older than Bane.”
• “I’m busy too, with my studies.” Grayson butt in. “This will suit Bane. Not me.”
• “Suit me? Are you fellas serious right now?” He looked at them. “Both of you are choosing me to do it? Did you guys ever ask if I have a busy schedule?” Bane asked, annoyingly. “Why are you guys fond of always pushing the pack issues to me without asking?”