Auren looked into his mother's eyes and found only nervousness , excitement and joy. Auren looked at his father and he just smiled, his eyes were full of warmth and slight worry. Auren then looked at his brothers who didn't shy away from his gaze.
"Auren," his mother began, leaning forward, "Remember what you learnt as an Omega?"
Auren nodded and his mother smiled before continuing to speak, " The bodies we wear are only shells. They are 2 legged vessels temporary, mutable. What defines us, what anchors us as Therions, is our bloodline."
Auren blinked, trying to keep up. The flames made her words feel heavier, as if the fire itself bent to her will.
"And within the bloodline," Seraphina continued, "is the essence that shapes who we are. Not our strength, nor our abilities, but our role in the chain of life. The gender of our bloodline."
He frowned, unsure if he had misheard. "Gender? You mean our Alpha and Omega traits. I thought I already awoke my traits.. I..."
"Yes," Seraphina cut in, her tone sharper now, precise. "The Rite you face tonight is called the Reclaiming Rite. It is when the essence within you reveals itself fully. From then onward, you will not only know your true self, you will embody it. Being Alpha or Omega does not define strength, Auren, but it defines what kind of Therion you are destined to be."
The fire crackled as silence fell over the circle.
Auren's mind raced. [I thought that I already awakened my omega traits? What more is there? Is it because I hadn't awakened my soul that time that I am a fractured being? But mother assured me I'm okay.] Yet now, as Auren looked to his family, the weight of expectation pressed down that he was meant to discover something immutable about his very being.
Seraphina's gaze never wavered. "Your father, Fenvaros, and your brothers Raelith, Caelith, and Rai'en are reclaimed alphas. Vorren and I," she hesitated, though only for a breath, "are reclaimed omegas."
The word seemed to freeze the air around them.
Auren's eyes darted instinctively to Vorren, the hulking brute of a brother who could snap iron with his hands and level stone with his fists. A reclaimed omega? The thought seemed laughable, yet no one else was laughing. Vorren met his gaze evenly, his expression unreadable, though his clenched jaw betrayed irritation.
"It isn't weakness," Vorren said gruffly, as if daring Auren to doubt it. "It's simply truth. My essence is my essence. Strength lies in what we make of it."
Auren's throat felt dry. His mind twisted around the revelation, struggling to fit it into the image he'd built of his family. His towering brother was an omega. Seraphina, who commanded entire courts with her presence, was an omega. And alphas, their father, the eldest three brothers, carried themselves like suns that demanded the world orbit them.
So where did that leave him? What did being reclaimed even mean?
"What does it mean to be reclaimed? What is the difference between a reclaimed omega and an omega that hasn't been reclaimed? What even is claiming us?!" Auren was almost frantic.
"The Rite is not something you can resist," Seraphina pressed gently. "It is not a choice. At the stroke of midnight, your bloodline will reclaim itself. The shell will yield. And you will know."
"That doesn't explain anything?!" Auren burst out, standing and towering over his mother.
Seraphina was about to stand when Vorren beat her to it. He stood, his tall stature, earlier in a grey suit now in a shirt and sweatpants towered over Auren. Vorren was unique in their family, his heterocromic eyes, the left being cerulean and the right red. His wolf ears were black in color but his tail was a dark red.
Auren looked to his brothers eyes and when he was about to speak, a heavy presence filled his nostrils causing him to gasp for air. The smell was sweet like raspberries but it was too heavy, it took all the air from Auren's lungs. Vorren stopped when he saw Auren had enough,
"That's the difference little brother. I as a reclaimed can use my aura and scent as a weapon. I can also mark an alpha as mine and it can even be a one sided mark. Ask yourself brother, if omegas were as weak as you think. Would mother be a queen? Would I be a warrior? Would aunt Mina have her harem of husbands?"
Auren's hands tightened on his sides as he tried to breath properly. He wanted to ask what that meant for him, for his future, for his friendships, for his place beside Eiran or Zevaros. But the words caught in his throat. He could not even decide if he feared the answer or longed for it. He now understood that he would be vastly powerful but still,
"I'm only seventeen, you were all eighteen when it happened. Why now?"
"Because son," Fenvaros' deep and soothing voice filled the silence, " You are a dual bloodline. This means your things happen earlier and are more dangerous."
Fenvaros' presence a gravitational force even in silence. His dark hair absorbed the moonlight, his eyes gleaming like shards of blood. "The Rite has always been there," he said, voice low but carrying. "When I was eighteen, I stood where you will stand tonight. As did each of your siblings. At midnight, the elders and seers marked the circle, and the two bloodlines will reveal itself."
He gestured toward the mansion looming behind them, its tall glass windows aglow with runes already pulsing in preparation. "It is no less sacred now. You will face it with the same resolve as those before you."
Auren inhaled sharply, his chest tight. For the first time that night, he wanted to retreat, to vanish into the waves and escape the heavy eyes of his family. Yet retreat was impossible. Their gazes, their expectations, their quiet pride all pressed him forward.
The fire burned lower still, a silent hourglass marking the time until midnight.
By the time they entered the mansion, the air itself seemed to hum with power. The hallways were lined with glowing sigils, casting soft light over the polished stone floors. Auren's steps echoed, each one heavier than the last.
They reached the grand chamber at the mansion's heart. The runic circle dominated the room, carved deep into the marble floor, filled with liquid silver that pulsed faintly like veins of living light. Servants had cleared the space, their heads bowed as the `Fenrir family entered. None dared raise their eyes.
Fenvaros stood beside the circle, his hands clasped behind his back. "At midnight," he said, "you will stand in the center. The circle will awaken, and the essence bound in your blood will surface. You will not resist. You will not falter. You will accept."
Auren stepped closer, the glowing runes casting pale light over his face. His reflection in the silver lines seemed almost foreign eyes too sharp, posture too rigid. He did not feel like himself anymore. Seraphina's hand brushed his shoulder, grounding him. "Whatever the outcome, Auren, you are still you. Remember that."
"What if I am not reclaimed by whatever it is that's reclaiming me? What then?" Auren asked worried.
"Then you stay my son, you remain Auren and you decide your path of life. Nothing will ever change son, nothing.Being reclaimed is just another step in a Therions path to power and glory." Fenvaros explained, a hand on his other shoulder.
Auren nodded, though his heart pounded. [I don't know what this is, but this is my life. I will decide it's path, I will define me.]
Time dragged and yet collapsed all at once. His siblings gathered at the edges of the chamber, forming a silent circle of witnesses. The moons climbed higher beyond the glass ceiling, their light piercing the chamber in three pale beams that converged over the runic circle.
Fenvaros raised his hand. "It is time."
Auren swallowed hard. His legs carried him forward before his mind could resist. He stepped into the circle, the silver lines flaring beneath his feet, the runes thrumming in time with his heartbeat.
The air grew heavy, thick with a pressure that seemed to sink into his bones.
He stood alone in the center, the three moons blazing above him, the eyes of his family fixed upon him. Midnight loomed, and with it, the truth of his reclaiming. For the first time in years, Auren felt small, like the boy who had once been lost in shadows, fighting to keep his desires locked away. But now, the shadows could no longer contain him.
The Reclaiming Rite had begun.