Dinner felt... peaceful.
Too peaceful.
My mom had already recognized Riley. I could tell by the way her gaze lingered just a second too long, by the way her scent shifted soft, protective, trembling at the edges. But she didn’t expose it. She didn’t rush forward or call her by na.
She treated Riley like a guest.
Respected her space.
Anyone watching closely would notice sothing else though. The dishes on the table were not random. The spicy ones I loved were placed near . The lighter, delicate flavors Riley preferred were set closer to her.
Mom never missed details.
The table was filled with food from everywhere seafood, grilled at, fresh vegetables, soup simring in clay pots. Riley ate quietly, as if it was just another dinner.
But Grant
Grant was suspiciously attentive.
He served everyone first. Mom. Nicholas. Lewis. .
Only when he made sure everyone had sothing did the last piece of spare ribs land on Riley’s plate.
He acted like no one would notice.
Nicholas definitely noticed.
The mont Grant placed food in his bowl, Nicholas froze slightly. His brows twitched.
Has this man completely lost his mind?
You could almost hear his thoughts. He probably felt like Grant was playing so strategic Alpha move pretending generosity while secretly angling for favor.
Nicholas pushed aside the ginger Grant added to his plate. Calmly. Politely.
Internally, though, I knew he was cursing him.
Lewis, on the other hand, was completely unaware of the silent battle. He focused only on . Adding fish to my plate. Removing bones carefully. Refilling my tea.
His instincts were sharp, but only when it ca to protecting his mate.
Mom served a piece of braised pork, then imdiately served Riley one too.
"Janice," she said gently, "don’t be shy. Just treat this like ho."
Riley nodded quickly. "Okay."
Her voice was steadier now.
Grant suddenly stood up. "The soup is still on the stove. I’ll bring it."
He moved like he had a mission.
He served soup to everyone. When he reached Nicholas, Nicholas lifted his bowl away.
"I’m good," he said calmly.
Then Nicholas added vegetables to Mom’s plate. "Lena, you haven’t had enough greens lately. You need balance."
Grant imdiately swooped in.
"She’s not a rabbit," he said. "She needs protein. Eat so fish."
Nicholas didn’t back down. "Bone marrow. Calcium."
"Pork liver," Grant countered. "Iron."
Mom stared at her plate.
It was overflowing.
I almost laughed.
When powerful n act childish, it’s worse than toddlers fighting over toys.
Riley had a small smile on her face.
For the first ti in a long while, Mom looked relaxed. Lighter. Like the heavy fog that used to follow her scent had finally lifted.
Lewis and I stayed out of it.
He fed .
I gave him soup.
We watched the show.
After dinner, Nicholas and Grant stood up at the exact sa ti.
Grant exaggerated his movents like he was offering himself up for sacrifice. "I’ll wash the dishes."
Nicholas sneered. "How many plates are you planning to break tonight, Mr. Gardner?"
The tension flared again.
Mom sighed. This was clearly routine.
Riley suddenly spoke up softly. "Maybe I should wash them?"
Mom grabbed her hand imdiately. "You’re a guest. How could I let you do that? Would you like to walk around the yard? The mountain air is nice at night. Sotis you can even see fireflies."
Riley’s eyes lit up. "Sure."
Mom reached for too, but I shook my head slightly and linked arms with Lewis instead.
"We’ll walk that way," I said, giving Mom a small wink.
She understood.
She deserved ti alone with her daughter.
Grant saw Riley heading out and imdiately grabbed a wool shawl. He draped it over her shoulders, careful not to touch too long.
"It’s cold at night. Don’t catch a chill."
Nicholas froze mid-step.
Missed his chance.
Riley looked at Grant and secretly laughed. Grant avoided her eyes and quickly tossed Mom’s knitted cardigan over her shoulders too.
"Go ahead."
Riley clutched the cardigan tightly.
When she turned, I saw it.
Tears.
Just a faint shimr.
Lewis and I stepped outside.
The farm was quiet. Only a few houses nearby. Staff quarters in the distance. But the roads had been fitted with new streetlights. Not harsh ones soft golden lamps that lined the path like guiding stars.
Near our house, tiny decorative lights were hidden in the grass. Little animal shapes. Mushroom-like structures. Soft glows that made everything feel unreal.
It looked like sothing from an old pack legend.
Not too bright.
Just enough.
"This was definitely their doing," I whispered.
Two grown Alphas secretly decorating like children preparing a den.
Crickets chirped in the dark.
I looked up.
The sky was covered in stars.
For once, my chest felt light.
No sches. No hidden blades behind smiles. No fear.
Even the wind felt gentle.
"Lewis," I whispered, "look. Fireflies."
They floated over the grass, small green lights blinking softly. Alone, each one was tiny. Together, they lit the darkness.
Lewis pointed ahead. "Elena, there."
I followed his gaze.
A night-blooming cereus.
Its petals were still closed.
And then
Slowly.
Gracefully.
The flower opened.
White petals unfurled under the moonlight, delicate and fragile. It only blood for a short ti. Rare. Precious.
"It’s beautiful," I breathed. "They say seeing it bloom brings good luck. I should make a wish."
I clasped my hands and closed my eyes.
I wished for sothing simple.
Peace.
Safety.
Family.
When I opened my eyes, Lewis was smiling at .
"What did you wish for?" he asked.
"I can’t tell you. It won’t co true. Did you make one?"
He shook his head gently.
"My wish already ca true."
His fingers intertwined with mine. His forehead rested against mine. His scent wrapped around , steady and warm.
"Elena," he murmured softly, "you being reborn... that was the greatest wish of my life."
For a mont, the world disappeared.
Just the night.
The blooming flower.
The steady heartbeat of my Alpha.
And the quiet, powerful bond between us.
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