The pack house never looked this alive.
Torches burned low along the stone paths, casting a golden flicker against the tall pines. Tables were dragged out beneath the trees, sagging under platters of roasted game, spiced fruit, baked loaves, and about a hundred jars of wild honey. Lanterns floated above us like trapped stars. Music thumped low from skin drums and old string instruments, pulsing like a heartbeat through the clearing.
It was tradition — every Mate Giving Eve, the pack feasted together. A celebration of love, of the moon, of the mystery in not knowing who would belong to who by tomorrow night.
I stood at the edge of it all, watching wolves laugh and eat and dance like nothing bad could touch them.
"Dwyn!"
Liora launched at me from nowhere, one arm around my waist, the other dragging her twin Fiora behind her. Viora followed a beat later, chewing a hunk of honey bread and humming.
"You're late," Fiora accused, lifting her nose.
"She was making out with Kael again," Viora said, mouth full.
"Was not," I said, ruffling her curls. "I had to wash off the battlefield. Dad left me bruised."
"Hot," Fiora muttered.
"Concerning," Liora added.
"Anyway," Viora mumbled around the bread, "if you don't get mated to Kael tomorrow, I will personally start a riot."
I laughed — because how could I not?
Everything about this felt right. Easy.
The triplets ran off moments later to terrorize the dessert table, and I wandered toward the long table where the Elders sat. My father stood nearby, a carved wooden cup in hand, deep in conversation with Beta Thorne and the Huntmaster. His face lit up when he saw me.
"There's my warrior," he said.
I smiled, stepping into his side. "Still sore from this morning."
"Good. You need to be strong for tomorrow."
I raised an eyebrow. "You think I'll have to fight off a mate?"
"I think you'll have to fight for yourself." He clinked his cup to mine — apple cider, not wine. Neither of us drank the night before a full moon.
I didn't ask what he meant. I didn't want to know.
Kael appeared not long after, sliding in beside me like he belonged there. My shoulder brushed his arm. My body relaxed without permission.
"You clean up nice," he said, gaze slipping down the simple black dress I'd thrown on. His tone was light, teasing, but his eyes lingered.
"You're just surprised I own anything without mud on it," I replied.
"True."
We shared a grin — not perfect, not soft, but ours. Familiar. Comfortable.
Behind us, the drums kicked up into a quicker rhythm. A few wolves had shifted, running in circles beyond the torchlight. Pup laughter rang out near the bonfires. The sky was almost fully dark now, stars breaking through in silver pinpricks.
"You ready?" Kael asked, voice quieter.
I nodded. "You?"
He gave a lopsided smile. "Always."
He took my hand under the table, fingers warm. Steady.
I didn't notice Mera until she slid across from us, her curls pinned back with silver pins, her dress shimmering in the lanternlight.
"You two look disgustingly happy," she said.
"You're just jealous," I smirked.
"I am," she said, without hesitation. "I want the moon to drop some six-foot-tall warrior in my lap tomorrow. Preferably shirtless."
Kael chuckled. "Subtle, Mera."
She winked. "I don't do subtle."
The three of us sat together for the rest of the feast, trading jokes, stealing food from each other's plates, clapping along to the music. The pack buzzed around us — all energy and joy, like the future had already arrived and it was glorious.
No one could've guessed what the moon was planning.
Least of all me.
The feast lingered in the air even after the tables had been cleared.
Ash floated up from the bonfires like fireflies. Wolves still lingered in small circles, curled on blankets, bellies full, laughter softer now. Somewhere, someone was humming an old lullaby. The kind only wolves remembered.
I stretched, my arms sore, my body humming with both exhaustion and something quieter—anticipation. The kind that lives just beneath the skin. Like the night itself was holding its breath.
Kael had drifted off to speak with his father, and Mera had disappeared with a tray of leftover fruit and a wide-eyed omega she planned to "accidentally" flirt with under the stars.
I made my way back toward the packhouse, where the lights were dimmed and pups had already been tucked in by nannies and aunties. My boots scuffed softly against the stones as I passed the herb garden, the training yard, the edge of the triplets' wildflower patch.
Inside the packhouse, the world was quieter. Soft. Safe.
"Dwyn?"
I turned toward the Luna's voice.
Cecil stood at the foot of the staircase, a knitted shawl draped over her shoulders, her long silver-blonde braid tied with a velvet ribbon. She looked tired but peaceful, her presence always a little like warm tea—soothing, even if I never asked for it.
"I was wondering where you'd gone off to," she said gently.
"Just—needed air," I replied. "The feast was a lot."
"Mm." She studied me with her usual calm. "Nervous?"
"A little."
Lunara stepped closer, reaching to brush a curl behind my ear with maternal ease. She never tried to be my mother. But she never let me forget I belonged here, either.
She said softly. "I love you, Dwyn."
My throat tightened. "I know. Mom."
She kissed my temple. "Your father's still at council. You'll see him in the morning."
I nodded.
She added, "Get some sleep. The moon rises early."
I promised I would and climbed the stairs two at a time, pulse flickering faster with every step. My room waited just at the end of the hall—my sanctuary.
But Kael stood outside the door when I got there, leaning against the frame like he'd been carved there by moonlight.
"Creeping around women's bedrooms now?" I asked, trying to keep the smile out of my voice.
He pushed off the frame and stepped close, catching my hand. "I didn't want to end the night without you."
My heart fluttered stupidly.
"Tomorrow's going to be everything," I said quietly. "Right?"
Kael didn't answer immediately. His gaze scanned my face—eyes searching, unreadable.
Then he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "It already is."
I exhaled.
He squeezed my hand. "Sleep, Dwyn."
I nodded, opening the door behind me.
Just before I closed it, I peeked out again.
Kael was still there.
Watching.
Smiling.