Chapter Content
Vincent/Vaelthor~
As twilight bled into indigo, we spilled out onto the sprawling meadow beyond the palace walls, a sea of fur-clad Lycans and kin gathering around the colossal bonfire pit. The flames roared to life under dad Zane's command—a bellowed Alpha growl igniting the pyre with hellhound ferocity—leaping twenty feet high, casting flickering gold across thousands of faces. Drums thrummed from the edges, deep and primal, mingling with howls that raised the hairs on my neck. Tents dotted the perimeter like nomadic stars, laughter and snarls weaving into a tapestry of pack life. Katrina squeezed my hand, her reddish-blonde waves loose and wild in the firelight, her Lycan strength humming beneath her skin. "This is what home feels like," she murmured, leaning into me. "All of us, together. No prophecies, no duties—just fire and family."
Winter, perched on a log beside Nicholas, nodded faintly, her nightmare-weaving fingers laced with his. "Peace in the flames. Rare, but real." Nicholas, ever the cocky hybrid, draped an arm around her, his blood magic subtly pulsing in time with the drums. "Yeah, well, if anyone starts a conga line, I'm blaming the wine. Last time, your dad nearly shifted mid-dance, Zane."
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