A Grand Feast
By evening, the packhouse had been transformed. Crimson and gold banners hung from the rafters, their colors glowing in the light of countless lanterns. Long tables groaned under the weight of roasted meats, fresh breads, and steaming vegetables. Even the air smelled festive—rich with spices and wood smoke.
Draven stood by Isla’s side at the head table, his hand resting protectively on her waist. She wore a flowing silver gown that shimmered with every movement, a radiant counterpart to his dark, commanding presence. Wolves from neighboring packs filled the hall, mingling and congratulating them.
Elyra, the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack, approached first. Her sharp eyes glinted as she smiled at Isla. “Congratulations, Luna,” she said with genuine warmth. “Twins are a rare blessing. Your pack must be thrilled.”
“They are,” Isla replied, her own smile soft and gracious.
Not all the visitors were as kind. Garren of the Iron Fang Pack approached next, his bulky frame looming as he gave a tight, forced smile. “Lady Isla,” he drawled, his tone dripping with condescension. “Carrying twins must be exhausting. Are you sure you can handle the pressure of being Luna with such… delicate responsibilities?”
Before Isla could respond, Draven’s hand tightened on her waist. His amber eyes locked onto Garren’s with a predatory intensity that silenced the room. “My mate has handled more pressure than you’ll see in a lifetime,” he said, his tone ice-cold. “She’s stronger than anyone here.”
Isla gently placed a hand over Draven’s, her smile never faltering as she addressed Garren. “Thank you for your concern, Alpha. But I can assure you—I don’t need anyone else’s approval to prove my strength.”
Garren, clearly unnerved, mumbled an apology and slunk away.
As the evening continued, music filled the air, and wolves took to the floor to dance. Draven, uncharacteristically relaxed, held out his hand to Isla. “Dance with me,” he said, his voice softer now, meant only for her.
She hesitated, laughing lightly. “You hate dancing.”
“For you, I’ll endure it,” he replied, his lips curving into a rare, teasing smile.
Isla allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor, where they moved together in perfect harmony. Every step was a silent conversation, every touch a declaration of their bond. Around them, the pack watched with a mix of awe and joy, their Alpha and Luna the epitome of strength and unity.
As the music slowed, Draven leaned in, his forehead resting gently against hers. “You’re radiant,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “How did I get so lucky?”
Isla smiled, her silver eyes glowing. “It’s not luck, Draven. It’s us.”
The night stretched on in warmth and celebration, a rare reprieve from the challenges that awaited them. For once, Crimson Fang’s future felt secure, cradled in the hands of its Alpha and Luna.
