Chapter 26

Ava

“Care to join me for the party?”

I couldn’t help but return Chris’s smile, although I felt my heart fluttering at the sight of him standing there in the dimly lit doorway—which, of course, I would never admit.

“I’d love to,” I replied, rising from the window seat and smoothing my hands over the soft fabric of my dress.

Chris extended his arm out to me in an almost chivalrous gesture, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that boyish kind of way as I looped my own through the crook of his elbow.

“Shall we, then?” he murmured, leaning a little closer so that his breath tickled my ear.

I could only nod, allowing him to lead me out of my house and into the warm evening air outside. It was a particularly pleasant night; it had rained briefly during the afternoon, making the air smell sweet and the underbrush teeming with birds, frogs, and insects.

Soon, the sounds of laughter and music grew louder as we made our way down the winding path towards the village square, the flickering glow of the bonfire already visible through the trees.

“I didn’t expect them to throw a party,” Chris mused as we walked, still arm-in-arm.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of my lips. “They’re excited,” I said softly. “You just made history.”

Chris let out a low, almost disbelieving, chuckle and ran his free hand through his hair. “Did I? I guess I sort of forgot that the werewolf world was so… behind.”

“In this aspect, at least,” I reminded him. We were still leaps and bounds ahead when it came to matters of community and environmentalism.

He shot me a sidelong glance, but said nothing.

By the time we reached the festivities, the party was in full swing. Packmates of all ages swayed and twirled to the lively folk music, tables were laden with food and drink, and the heady scents of roasted meats and spiced wines hung thick in the air.

For a moment, I simply stood there, taking it all in with a sense of disbelief. It had been too long since we had enjoyed a party like this. Ethan never considered the importance of community gatherings, and he certainly never made any public announcements—like the one today—that would cause the people to throw parties out of pure excitement.

Suddenly, a gentle tug on my arm snapped me out of my reverie, and I turned to find Chris regarding me with an amused quirk of his brow.

“You look like you’ve never seen a party before,” he teased.

I huffed out a breath, feigning indignance even as the corners of my mouth twitched upwards. “It’s been a while, that’s all,” I shot back. “We haven’t exactly had much cause for spontaneous celebration lately.”

Chris’s expression sobered at that, his eyes growing pensive as he nodded slowly. “Well, then I’d say this is long overdue,” he murmured.

Before I could respond, the band struck up another lively song, and a handful of couples suddenly swept onto the makeshift dance floor. Chris glanced at me, a mischievous glint in his eye as he extended his hand in a silent invitation.

I couldn’t help but laugh at his audacity, even as I placed my palm in his and allowed him to whisk me into the fray.

“Do you remember the steps?” I asked. “This is a traditional dance, you know.”

Chris’s cheeks flushed a slight shade of red. “I’ll admit that I don’t,” he replied, his gaze sweeping over the other couples that were already twirling and moving around one another.

A grin plastered itself across my face at those words. “Follow my lead.”

We moved clumsily at first, stepping on each other’s toes as I tried to teach Chris the steps all over again. I showed him how to move in time with the beat, our feet pounding against the makeshift dance floor. Soon, after a lot of laughter and blushed cheeks, he began to pick up the dance.

“You’re getting it!” I said, our palms flat against one another as we spun around each other.

Chris laughed, a sweet and melodic sound that would have been lost amongst the music had we not been pressed so close.

For those fleeting moments, it was as if the rest of the world blurred, leaving only Chris and me in our own little bubble as we twirled on the dance floor. His face was flushed, tendrils of his hair falling over his brow, and I found myself utterly entranced by the sight of him; so carefree and uninhibited.

So much like the boy I had once known.

We fell into an easy rhythm then, our bodies swaying and moving in perfect sync as the music swelled around us. Chris’s gaze never left mine, his eyes sparkling in the light of the torches.

But it was in that moment, as we spun together beneath the flickering firelight, that I caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye. Instinctively, I followed it, my gaze landing on one of the upper windows of the Packhouse—where Olivia was being kept under guard.

She was there, silhouetted against the dim glow of the candlelight, her face a mask of pure hatred as she glowered down at the festivities below. Our eyes met for the briefest of moments before she sneered, violently snapping the curtains shut and disappearing from view.

I froze, the blood in my veins turning to ice as a wave of nausea washed over me. Olivia’s gaze had been utterly chilling, devoid of anything even remotely resembling humanity or reason.

In that moment, she had looked positively feral—like a rabid animal backed into a corner and ready to lash out at anything that moved. So much unlike the girl who I had once called my friend. Had she always been like this, deep down? Or was this something new?

Suddenly, the warmth of Chris’s hand on my arm startled me, and I realized that we had come to a standstill on the dance floor, the other dancers swirling around us in a dizzying vortex.

“Ava” His brow was furrowed with concern. “Are you alright?”

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to tear my gaze away from the now-darkened window and meet his eyes.

“I-I’m fine," I lied, mustering up what I hoped was a convincing smile. “Just got a bit lightheaded for a moment there.”

Chris didn’t look entirely convinced, but he didn’t press the matter further. Instead, he simply nodded and slipped his arm around my waist, guiding me off the dance floor and towards the outskirts of the celebration.

We strolled in comfortable silence for a while, weaving our way through the winding paths that cut through the village. The sounds of the party faded into the distance, replaced by the gentle chirping of crickets and the rustling of leaves in the warm breeze.

Eventually, we found ourselves in a small clearing, surrounded by the strange, glowing flora that was unique to our homeland. Chris reached out, trailing his fingers over the bioluminescent petals of one particularly vibrant bloom, and I was struck by the wistful look that settled over his features as little puffs of glowing pollen swirled up around his hand.

“I’ll admit I missed this,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. “The beauty of this place, the magic here…” He trailed off, shaking his head slowly. “The human world, despite all of its wonders, could never quite compare.”

In that moment, my heart ached for him—for all the years he had lost, adrift and isolated in a realm that could never be his true home. Without a second thought, I reached out and took his hand in mine, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Chris startled at the contact, his gaze snapping up to meet mine with an almost haunted look in his eyes. But then, slowly, the tension seemed to bleed out of him, and a ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Follow me,” I said, tugging on his hand. “I want to show you something.”