Sacrificed To The Triplet Alpha Kings

Chapter 147: I Don’t Think The Moon Goddess Makes Mistakes

They fell back into step, moving deeper into the guest wing, where several other omegas were already stripping old linens from the beds and replacing them with fresh ones, fluffing pillows, arranging pitchers of water on polished side tables. Lilith picked up a stack of folded linens from a cart near the door and began working alongside Emma in the nearest room, her hands falling into the familiar rhythm of the task even as her mind stayed tangled elsewhere.

"For what it’s worth," Emma said quietly, as they smoothed a fresh sheet over the bed together, "I don’t think the Moon Goddess makes mistakes. Cruel timing, maybe. Complicated circumstances, definitely. But not mistakes. If she paired you with them, there’s a reason, even if none of us can see it yet."

Lilith managed a small, tired smile. "You almost sound like Elder Theodore."

"Goddess, don’t say that," Emma said, a genuine laugh slipping out despite everything. "I’ll never forgive you."

The moment of lightness helped, if only for a few seconds. Lilith focused on the work in front of her, smoothing wrinkles from the sheets, arranging pillows just so, setting out fresh towels folded in neat, precise squares the way Dora had taught them alL. It was mindless work, the kind that let her hands stay busy while her thoughts churned beneath the surface.

They moved from room to room, working quickly and efficiently alongside the other omegas, the guest wing slowly transforming from ordinary quarters into something fit for the highest authority in the werewolf realm. Fresh flowers were placed in vases. Water pitchers were filled and set beside crystal glasses. Every surface gleamed. Every corner was inspected twice.

As they worked, snippets of conversation drifted between the omegas around them, nervous chatter about the Elders’ reputation, speculation about how strict the inspection would be, quiet complaints about the impossible timeline Dora had given them. Lilith let the noise wash over her, grateful for the anonymity of it, grateful that for these stolen minutes, she was just another omega folding linens, not a woman standing at the edge of a decision that would reshape the rest of her life.

But even in the middle of it, she felt Emma’s eyes on her more than once, checking on her, silently making sure she was still standing, still breathing, still holding herself together.

Near the end of the hour, as they finished the last room and stepped back to survey their work, Emma reached out and squeezed Lilith’s hand once, briefly.

"Whatever you decide tomorrow," she said quietly, "I’m still your friend. That doesn’t change. Blackwood or Shadowmere, mate or not, that doesn’t change."

Lilith’s eyes stung again, but this time the tears that threatened felt different....softer, born of gratitude rather than fear. "Thank you," she whispered.

Outside, through the tall windows of the guest wing, the last light of evening had faded into deep blue dusk. Somewhere beyond the compound gates, the Supreme Council of Elders was drawing closer, their procession winding through the forest roads toward Shadowmere. Lilith could feel it in the air, the way the entire compound seemed to be holding its breath in anticipation.

Dora appeared in the doorway moments later, her clipboard still in hand, her eyes sweeping over the finished room with visible relief. "Good," she said. "Good, this looks good. The Elders’ procession has been spotted at the outer gate. We have maybe twenty minutes before they arrive." She looked around at the gathered omegas, her expression tightening with the seriousness of what was coming. "Everyone to your positions. This is it."

The words sent a ripple of nervous energy through the room. Omegas began moving quickly, straightening uniforms, smoothing hair, checking their assigned stations one final time.

Lilith felt Emma’s hand brush against hers one more time before they separated, each of them moving toward their designated posts. As she walked toward the main hall to await further instruction, Lilith allowed herself one last thought of her mother, lying still and silent in the medical wing, waiting for a visit that would have to come later that night.

She hoped her mother would forgive her for the delay.

She hoped, more than anything, that there would still be time.

Outside, in the deepening dark, the first torches of the Supreme Council’s procession flickered into view at the edge of the tree line, and Shadowmere held its breath

***

The torches came first, a long, winding line of flame moving through the dark tree line beyond Shadowmere’s outer gate, growing brighter and closer with every passing minute. By the time the procession reached the compound’s main road, nearly the entire pack had gathered along its edges, omegas and betas alike straining to catch their first glimpse of the Supreme Council of Elders.

Lilith stood near the main hall entrance, her assigned post for the evening, watching the torchlight ripple closer like a slow-moving river of fire. Beside her, other omegas whispered nervously, smoothing their uniforms one final time, glancing toward Dora for reassurance that wasn’t coming. Dora herself stood rigid near the front steps, her clipboard abandoned now, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

The carriages came into view first, black, polished, drawn by matched horses whose coats gleamed even in the dim light. Behind them rode a full honor guard, at least thirty strong, their formation precise and unbroken. And at the center of it all, in the largest carriage, rode the Supreme Council itself.

Garrett stood at the very front of the gathered crowd, flanked by Luke and several senior pack members. He’d changed into his most formal attire for the occasion...dark, severe, the kind of clothing meant to convey respect without overstepping into presumption. His face was composed, but Lilith could see the tension in his shoulders even from this distance.

Nicholas, Sebastian, and Lucian stood a short distance from Garrett, positioned with deliberate visibility, close enough to the pack leadership to signal their standing, far enough to make clear they answered to no one present. Nicholas wore black edged in silver, his expression unreadable. Sebastian stood with his hands folded behind his back, composed and watchful. Lucian’s jaw was tight, his gold eyes flicking toward the approaching procession with barely restrained tension.