"Is it . . . is it bad?" Claire asked. She was worried about the expression on her mother's face. "You look sort of freaked out."
"No—not at all." Marie looked startled. "A naming is one of the most joyous ceremonies we have. It's a celebration, and when Victoria gives the baby her name—if she has picked the right name—some truly remarkable things will happen. If it is the right name. But then, I said that already, didn't I?" She sagged a little in her chair, pulling the tea mug right to the edge of the table. "It is just coming so soon after your new moon gathering. I had"—she cleared her throat—"I had underestimated the amount of effort these sorts of unusual gatherings would require. There are particular sorts of wood to be gathered, a preparation of herbs that I have to make for Victoria to drink, and it will be nearly impossible to find them in the wild with winter so close."
Her mother shut her eyes. "And, of course, I am worried about you. I'm fond of your ears." She paled, and the tea trembled in her cup as her hands shook. "I can't stand the thought of you being hurt. There is just—it is a great deal to handle at one time. And I am still new as an Alpha."
She gave Claire a wan smile. "I suppose we are both having—what is it called? A trial by fire?"
So that's why her mom had seemed so stressed lately. It made sense, and Claire was surprised she hadn't realized it sooner. Being a werewolf was so hard—trying to juggle the different sides of her life, to meet the demands of each without showing any strain. Claire understood why werewolves chose one side or another to favor. Judith's human life was just a thin veneer for her wolf self, with no more depth than a Halloween mask, and Katherine did the bare minimum required of her as werewolf, making the life she had to keep secret as small as possible, so it would be easier to hide.
And they were just regular, Beta wolves. Claire couldn't imagine the impossible pressure of being the Alpha. To be responsible for the whole pack had to be exponentially harder. The Alpha was the one who made sure that all the ceremonies were done when and how they were supposed to be. On top of that, the Alpha had to ensure that the pack maintained its secrecy, and she had to keep tabs on each of the wolves and watch the outside world for any signs of a threat. And though her mother had no human friends to speak of, she still had a busy and dangerously public career to manage. Just thinking about the responsibilities her mother carried was overwhelming. No wonder Marie looked like she was just barely holding things together. Of course, every time Claire thought about the punishment that waited for her if she failed to light the fire, she wanted to run shrieking into the woods and never come back. So she wasn't exactly the poster child for stress management either.
"Yeah, trial by fire. That's what it's called." The timer on the oven began to beep, and Claire slid off her stool, picking up the oven mitts that Lisbeth had thoughtfully left on the counter. She pulled the chicken out of the oven and set the pan on the stove, breathing in the smell of the roasted meat.
"So, what will I have to do?" she asked, pulling two plates out of the cabinet, shivering a little at the realization that she'd kissed Matthew in that exact spot. The heat that spread through her had nothing to do with the still-hot oven and everything to do with the ghost touch of his lips against the tender hollow beneath her ear. She could still feel his hands sliding around the small of her back, his palms pressed against her spine as he pulled her tighter against him. For one melting moment, everything else dropped away and she floated, lost in the memory.
Marie's tea mug clinked against the table, and Claire shook off the daydream, embarrassed about the burn that lingered in her cheeks.
The naming. Right. Focus.
"You will light the fire." Marie said. "After you have done that, Victoria will give the baby her name." She reached up, fiddling with the clasp of her necklace.
Claire slowly reached for a knife to cut the chicken with. "And then what?"
She slapped the hastily carved chicken breasts onto the plates and put dinner on the table.
Marie took a careful bite of her chicken, looked up at Claire, and gave her a thin smile.
"And then, if it goes well—if the fire is lit correctly and Victoria chooses the right name—the Goddess will bless the baby by putting out the fire. At least, a part of the fire. But if something goes wrong, it is like getting a bad fortune. It predicts a lifetime of difficulty for the baby. It's mostly ceremonial—the fire doesn't actually go out, but the pack searches for evidence that some bit of it has been extinguished." Her mother's face hardened. "But it can go the other way, too. I heard of a naming where a tumbleweed blew into the fire after the name was given. The fire actually grew—it was devastating for the pack."