Chapter 224
WARRICK
The packhouse was again bustling with activity. For the first time in weeks, Broken Ridge was alive, much like a wolf stirred out of a long harsh winter. Werewolves moved all over the grounds, hammering broken beams into place and moving corpses from recent battles. Even the pups joined in, running errands for the adults, apparently with an inexhaustible reserve of energy.
I leaned against a post, watching them all working in harmony. The murmur of laughter and conversation arising from that group was a sound that I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed.
Aurora stood near the center of the clearing, gesturing as she spoke to a few pack members. Dane was beside her, his arm casually thrown over her shoulder. He said something that made her laugh, and I caught a bit of it as they passed.
“Do we call this a victory feast or a ‘thank the Moon Goddess we’re alive’ dinner?” he joked.
Aurora smirked, hitting him. “Let’s just call it dinner, Dane. We’ve earned that much.”
The gathering came together as the sun began to set. Werewolves from every corner of the territory came in, bringing food, stories, and a shared sense of relief. The long tables groaned under the weight of dishes of roasted meat, fresh vegetables, and even a few loaves of bread that someone must’ve stayed up all night baking.
I took up a seat toward the center between Piper and Trajan.
“Enjoying your role as elder stateswolf these days?” I asked Trajan, grinning.
He gave me a glare, but the threatening expression couldn’t silence the slightest gleam of a smile. “Somebody’s gotta keep the pup element in this pack in order.”
Piper snorted, leaning past me to catch his eye. “Don’t let it go to your head, Trajan. Next thing we know, you’ll be growing a beard and sitting around telling stories about ‘the good old days.’”
As night fell, the mood lightened: werewolves were laughing and eating, even dancing to music playing from some of the musically talented pack members. The tension that had held us all so tight in its grip began to melt away.
I tried staying out of the spotlight, but the elders had another idea.
“Come on, Warrick,” one of them said, tugging at my arm. “We haven’t seen moves like yours since the last spring festival!”
I groaned, trying to move free. “I don’t dance.”
“Oh, but you do now,” Piper teased, giving me a little shove.
The next thing I knew, I was in the center of the clearing surrounded by cheering werewolves. At best, my dance was ungraceful but well worth any embarrassment, as the laughter and applause made my face ache from smiling.
The night wore on, and Aurora stood to address the pack. The murmur of conversation died away as all eyes turned to her.
“We’ve been through more than most packs could survive,” she began, her voice strong and clear. “But we’re still here. Together. And that’s something worth celebrating.”
The pack erupted into cheers, the sound echoing into the night.
Aurora let the murmur die before she continued, “A second chance is given to us, not to rebuild, but to grow. That which makes us pack, we nurture those ties better. From now on, I want some new traditions instituted: a monthly gathering where we share not only meals but stories and plans about the future, something to remind ourselves of who we are and what we fought for."
She spoke and the nods and grunts of assent circled the room. Trajan looked almost impressed, for once the lines in his face relaxed.
The peak of the evening was when the pups started a little play they had prepared. With rags and pieces of wood, they copied the fight with the Nameless. The over-the-top theatrical growls and dramatic flourishes sent everybody into a frenzy of laughter.
Then there was the time Trajan really surprised us all when he stepped in to “play” himself: towering over the pups, his serious looks made their giggles all the louder.
By the time he said, “And that, children, is how we saved the grove!” the entire pack was doubled over with laughter.
Later into the night, with the merrymaking getting quieter and more spaced out, I sat out on the rim of the clearing with Piper. The firelight dancing across her features shone, setting a glow to that milky color in her cheeks.
“You’ve been quiet tonight,” I said, poking her playfully.
She shrugged, a noncommittal smile dancing on her lips. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
Piper hesitated, then looked up at me, shining. “About how much everything has changed. How much we have changed.”
I turned my head, unsure of what that could mean. “For the good, I hope?”
She let out a soft laugh, then turned serious on me. “Yeah. Changes for good. Like realizing just how much someone means to you.”
But this time, it did so with such force that it rendered me speechless, reaching for my drink and promptly knocking it over.
Piper burst out laughing, the tension between us breaking like a snapped twig. “Smooth, Warrick. Really smooth.”
I chuckled, scratching the back of my neck. “Guess I’m not used to moments like this.”
“Neither am I,” she replied with a much softer tone of voice.
We sat there for a moment, the unspoken emotions between us settling into something that felt comfortable, natural.
As the fire burned out, one of the elders, Joclyn, went to Aurora with a weathered leather journal in her hands. The leather was worn and cracked with age.
“This belonged to Kael,” she said softly, a reverent lilt to her voice. “It’s time you knew the whole truth.”
Aurora took the diary gingerly from him, unreadable. Fingers ran over its cover; she pressed her lips to a thin line. “Thanks,” she said softly.
The packhouse was quiet now, the buzz of the day drained into a hum. Outside, the soft crackle of the fire was in the cool air, casting warmth into the coolness of the night. Aurora sat cross-legged on the floor with Dane beside her, Kael’s journal open between them. The leather binding was cracked, its pages fragile beneath the touch of her fingers. The handwriting was uneven, words rushed like Kael hadn’t written thinking of the weight that was to be and had let them pour onto the paper.
Dane leaned in closer to Aurora, his arm touching hers.
“Anything useful?”