[redith].
My lips curved into a genuine smile. Hearing him say it like that—so casually, without suspicion or resentnt eased sothing deep inside my chest.
He wasn’t resisting the truth anymore. He was accepting it, my identity.
I reached for his hand and intertwined my fingers with his. "Sotis," I admitted softly, "I wish I could be like her. Knowing everything. Seeing things before they happen."
He squeezed my hand gently, grounding, certain. "You are perfect the way you are."
I glanced up at him, confused. "Perfect?"
He smiled, that slow, confident smile that always made my heart stumble. "And did you forget?"
"Forget what?" I asked.
"That you’re the Wolf Queen."
I stared at him for a heartbeat, then sothing inside broke open. A wild, unrestrained smile spread across my face.
I could feel it in the bond, too—his pride, steady and fierce, wrapping around like a shield.
"I forgot," I said lightly. "Seems like I need soone to remind again and again."
He tapped his chest with his free hand. "Leave that to ."
I laughed and leaned into him, resting my head against his chest. His arm ca around naturally, holding close, solid and warm.
After a mont, I pulled back just enough to look at him. "We will need to start getting ready for the bonfire night."
He groaned the instant the words left my mouth.
I smiled, already sliding away from him. "Don’t worry. You will enjoy every bit of it."
He watched stand, and I playfully tapped his chest before reaching down and grabbing his hand—then tugging him up with .
The ease of it surprised .
For a split second, I blinked, aware of the strength in my pull, still unfamiliar but undeniable. Draven, however, seed distracted by sothing else entirely.
His gaze had dropped.
I followed it to my cleavage, then imdiately tried to cover his eyes with my palm, rising onto my toes to even reach his height.
"Hey," I scolded softly. "Focus. We don’t have much ti. We shouldn’t be late."
He sighed deeply, dramatically, but there was amusent in his eyes when he gently caught my wrist and lowered my hand.
"Tragic," he muttered.
I laughed, already tugging him toward the wardrobe.
---
The bonfire was already alive by the ti we arrived.
Flas leapt and curled into the darkening sky, fed by thick logs that crackled and snapped, sending sparks drifting upward like wandering stars.
The heat was gentle, not oppressive—perfect for an evening where the sun had finally softened and the air carried the scent of earth, resin, and sothing sweet I couldn’t quite na.
People gathered in wide circles around the fire—won in flowing dresses, n in loose tunics, children darting between legs before being gently pulled back by laughing elders.
Everyone sat where they pleased, so on woven mats, others directly on the grass or low stones ward by the fire.
Draven and I sat on the ground together, close enough that our shoulders brushed. I could feel his warmth beside , steady and grounding, and for once, the bond between us felt quiet—content rather than tense.
Servants moved seamlessly through the crowd, refilling wooden bowls and clay cups. The drinks were sweet—honeyed, spiced with fruit and herbs—and though the alcohol was mild, it lingered just enough to loosen laughter and soften voices.
Plates of food appeared and reappeared as if by magic: roasted roots, flatbreads brushed with oil, skewers of at, bowls of stewed fruits that stead faintly in the cool air.
Just then, the music began without announcent.
A drumbeat—slow at first, then layered with others. A stringed instrunt followed, its notes winding through the firelight like smoke.
Won rose to their feet, bare soles pressing into the earth as they began to move in flowing arcs, arms lifting, and skirts swaying. It wasn’t a performance ant to impress. It felt... ancient. Like a rembering.
I found myself leaning forward without realizing it. Then Dennis stood up.
I felt it before I saw it—the shift in the air, the collective pause. He wandered straight into the open space near the fire, rolled his shoulders once like he was preparing for battle, and then, very confidently, began to mimic the dancers.
Poorly.
His steps were half a beat off. His arms copied the grace but none of the restraint. When he tried to spin, he nearly tripped over his own foot.
For half a second, there was stunned silence. Then laughter erupted.
Soone clapped. Soone else whistled. One of the dancers caught Dennis by the wrist and spun him properly, and he laughed so hard he almost lost balance again.
Instead of stopping, he leaned into it, exaggerating the movents even more, bowing dramatically to the fire as if it were an audience of nobles.
Jeffery covered his face with one hand, shaking his head, though I could see the corner of his mouth twitching.
Draven leaned closer to , his voice low and dry near my ear. "I can’t even be ashad of him anymore."
I laughed, unable to stop myself.
Dennis caught sight of us and struck a ridiculous pose, one arm extended, the other bent at an impossible angle.
The crowd cheered, and he soaked it up shalessly before being dragged back into the dance by two won who clearly found him entertaining.
As my laughter faded, my gaze drifted across the firelight—and landed on my grandmother.
She sat a little apart, surrounded by a small circle of won. Her posture was relaxed, her walking stick resting against her knee, her silver hair pinned neatly in its simple bun.
Though her white eyes couldn’t see the flas or the dancers, I knew that she was present in her own way.
Her head tilted slightly with the rhythm. Her fingers tapped once against the wood of her stick in ti with the drums.
She was enjoying this.
The realization ward in a way the fire couldn’t.
Then, I turned back to Draven. The firelight painted his features in gold and shadow, catching in his eyes, softening the sharp lines of his face.
For once, he wasn’t watching the crowd like an Alpha guarding territory; he was simply here.
The music swelled. Laughter rose again. Soone passed us another drink, and Draven accepted it absently, his knee brushing mine as he shifted closer.
The night was only beginning.
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