Chapter 194
I smoothed down the deep burgundy tablecloth, grinning at Fatima, who was currently wrestling with a giant, glittery banner that read Happy Festive Season! in big, cheerful letters.
"Need help there?" I teased, arching a brow.
Fatima huffed, pushing a curl out of her face. "If you mean standing there laughing at me, then no thanks, Luna."
Sophie, who was crouched nearby arranging pine cones into a centerpiece, snorted. "Careful, Fatima. I hear Luna Ayla is ruthless with slackers."
I grinned, pretending to puff my chest out in mock authority. "Indeed. I might just demote you to kitchen duty."
Fatima gasped dramatically. "Anything but that! I can't even cook rice properly!"
We all burst into laughter, the warm kind that made the huge dining hall feel even cozier. The packhouse was buzzing with preparations—ribbons hanging from rafters, tables lined with candles and evergreen decorations, and the scent of baking pies filling the air.
Somewhere in the corner, the twins, were busy coloring. They waved at me excitedly, holding up messy drawings of wolves wearing Santa hats.
I pressed a hand to my heart. "Look at these! Little artists in the making!"
Their giggles filled the air, and I promised to hang their drawings right next to the main entrance for everyone to see. Sophie and Fatima helped me find pins while we all fussed over the twins like they were royalty.
Jake, of course, was busy with pack business—something about meeting new alliances for the coming year—but every so often, he would stroll through the hall with that easy swagger of his.
And each time, without fail, he would pause beside me, lean close under the pretense of inspecting the decorations, and murmur something that made my face heat up like a stove.
"Careful with all this glitter, Ayla," he said the first time, his voice brushing against my ear like velvet. "Wouldn’t want my Luna sparkling more than usual."
My cheeks practically glowed as Sophie wolf-whistled.
Later, when I was trying to balance a precarious stack of plates, he snuck up behind me, steadying the dishes with one hand and squeezing my waist lightly with the other.
"Steady now, sweetheart," he whispered, his breath warm against my neck.
I nearly dropped the entire stack, much to Fatima’s shrieking laughter.
"Alpha Jake, stop distracting our poor Luna!" she called.
But Jake only winked and disappeared again, leaving me red-faced and utterly flustered.
By the time night rolled around, the entire packhouse had transformed into a scene straight out of a winter fairy tale. Twinkling lights draped the walls, soft music played, and tables overflowed with food, sweets, and cider.
The festive energy was infectious. Everyone smiled. Everyone laughed.
I had never seen the pack so alive.
When I finally stepped out of my room, dressed in a deep forest green dress that shimmered as I moved, Fatima and Sophie both whistled.
"Hot damn," Sophie grinned, handing me a small sprig of holly. "Our Luna’s going to make Jake faint."
I tucked the holly into my hair, cheeks heating.
Downstairs, the celebration was already in full swing. Children darted between tables, people toasted glasses of sparkling cider, and laughter filled every corner.
Jake spotted me almost immediately.
His eyes darkened slightly with something primal, and the sight of him—dressed in black slacks and a dark button-up shirt that clung to his strong frame—made my stomach do backflips.
He crossed the floor toward me without hesitation, parting the crowd like the sea.
"My Luna," he said warmly, taking my hand in his, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.
"My Alpha," I teased lightly, smiling up at him.
Music swelled, a soft romantic tune.
Without asking, Jake pulled me into his arms, and we began to sway to the rhythm.
The world blurred around us. There was only him. Only the steady beat of our hearts, the warmth of his hand resting low on my back, and the way he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered.
"You’re beautiful," he murmured, his forehead resting lightly against mine. "You steal my breath every damn time."
I swallowed the lump in my throat, overwhelmed with emotion. "You’re not so bad yourself," I whispered back.
We moved in slow circles, our bodies perfectly attuned. The pack watched, many of them swooning, smiling, nudging each other like proud family members.
Jake dipped me slightly, grinning, and I laughed out loud, feeling light, free.
It was a perfect moment.
For once, there was no fear. No danger lurking in the shadows.
Just us.
Until the scream shattered the night.
Everyone froze.
I jerked upright, heart hammering.
Jake’s expression snapped from relaxed to deadly serious in an instant.
Another scream. Then shouting.
"Fire!" someone yelled. "The east wing!"
Jake was already moving, pulling me with him through the crowd.
We raced outside, cold air biting at our skin.
The east side of the packhouse was engulfed in thick, black smoke. Orange flames licked the sky, crackling and spitting embers into the night.
"Everyone back!" Jake commanded, his voice booming.
Pack warriors surged forward with buckets, hoses, anything they could find. Sophie grabbed my hand, and together we organized the younger pack members, getting them to safety.
"Use the emergency line!" Jake barked to a scout, who took off running.
Water doused the flames, steam rising in furious clouds.
I coughed, covering my mouth, my eyes burning.
Jake disappeared into the smoke, helping coordinate efforts.
I refused to just stand there. I grabbed a nearby hose with Fatima and joined the line, dousing the fire from the outer edges.
Minutes felt like hours.
But finally, the flames began to die.
Smoke still curled into the night sky, but the fire was out.
The east wing was damaged, charred black in places—but thankfully, no one was hurt.
Jake returned, his face streaked with soot, his eyes wild as he scanned the crowd until he found me.
I ran into his arms without thinking.
He held me tightly, pressing a fierce kiss to my forehead.
"You’re okay," he breathed.
I nodded, chest heaving.
Pack members gathered, murmuring among themselves.
Jake pulled back slightly, his jaw tight.
"This wasn’t an accident," he said low enough that only I could hear.
A shiver ran down my spine.
Someone had set this fire.
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