CHAPTER TWENTY.

(MELIORA'S POV)


As I tried on my beautiful new dress in the shop with the other girls, I could not help but wonder to myself, "Maybe I too could meet real love here in this pack?" Only the upcoming event would show if that was possible or not.

On the drive back to the pack territory, sitting in the bus, I thought about whether I should call Owen on the phone. But then I remembered that he thought I was dead, so there was no need to bother him. I just wished he was safe out there in his exile, wherever he was.


After we got back to the pack's village, we rushed straight to the kitchen and immediately set to work preparing a hearty dinner for the whole pack. The wonderful aromas of simmering stews, roasting meats, and freshly baked bread soon filled the air.

As we bustled about chopping vegetables, tending the fires, and kneading dough, our conversation naturally turned to more lighthearted topics - past relationships and ideas of true romance.

"Alright, who wants to spill their tragic tale of lost love first?" Beth teased, giving Anna a playful nudge with her elbow as they worked side-by-side peeling potatoes.

Anna made a face at her friend. "Oh, you mean like the time Gregory Woodhaven completely forgot about our mid-spring festival date because he was too busy wrestling bears in the woods?"

We all laughed as the bubbly blonde launched into the dramatic retelling of how her childhood sweetheart had unforgivably stood her up one fateful night of revelries. Martha and Suzanne joined in, good-naturedly mocking the clueless boy's obvious failings.

"Well, at least you had a sweetheart to be disappointed by!" Martha cut in once Anna's story had wound down. "The only romance I ever knew was when Patrick Stonesaw got so flustered trying to ask me to the bonfire dance, he accidentally backhanded me in the face instead of taking my hand!"

We all dissolved into fresh peals of laughter at the comical image her words painted. Even I couldn't stifle my own amused snorts as the giggles overtook me.

"Oh you poor dears, having to endure such foolish puppy love trysts!" Suzanne said, wiping away a mirthful tear. "Why, I don't recall ever being subject to such caddish treatment from any of my childhood dalliances."

Beth arched an eyebrow at the beautiful brunette. "Oh? Do tell, oh wise woman of the world! What, did you simply emerge from the womb a fully-formed heartbreaker, leaving a wake of pined souls in your path?"

Suzanne smirked, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. "Of course not, you silly goose. But I did have the wisdom to pick only the most ardent and consistent of suitors to grant my favors to."

I watched her preen with interest, genuinely curious to hear more of this fairer side of courtship. The tender innocence of first crushes and clumsy flirtations was all too familiar to me - but Suzanne hinted at having experienced something richer, more refined.

"Like who?" Anna wanted to know, propping her chin in her hands on the tabletop. "Do tell, we're all enraptured now!"

Suzanne's eyes took on a misty, distant quality as she recalled whatever memory played out in her mind's eye. "Well...there was David, he of the forest-green eyes and the voice that could hauntingly trill like a wood thrush during the sunset chorale."

She sighed heavily, fanning herself in an exaggerated swoon as we all squealed and protested for her to go on.

"Why, he used to cantor poems to me, right there in the middle of the village dances! Spinning me round and round in his arms, professing his undying ardor in that beautifully sonorous baritone..."

"Did he now?" Martha's tone was dry, fully unimpressed. "So what happened then, pray tell? He gets distracted chasing squirrels while you two were meant to be fleeing off into the wilderness for a life of poetic seclusion?"

Suzanne rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Oh, must you spoil every romantic story with your crass skepticisms? No, if you Must know, David's family traveled on to rejoin another branch of the pack up South. Our courtship faced its bittersweet end that midwinter before we could formalize our mating."

Her flippant tone belied the faintest glimmer of wistfulness in her eyes. Though I had no proof, I couldn't shake the sense that she had omitted just how deeply David's departure had affected her. Some small, defiant spark still burned for that long-lost love.

"Well, aren't you four a cluster of dreamy-eyed fawns tonight?" a gruff, reedy voice suddenly interrupted.

We all started guiltily as Elder Abigail's hunched form appeared in the doorway.

"E-Elder Abigail!" Suzanne stammered, automatically straightening under the old woman's steely glare. "W-We were just taking a brief rest between—"

"Between flapping your jaws and daydreaming yourselves into a stupor, by the sounds of it!" she barked. Shuffling fully into the kitchen, she jabbed an arthritic finger at each of us in turn.

"Need I remind you useless lollygaggers that there's real work to be done, even on the eve of some silly mating ceremony? This entire pack will still require its meals come the morrow, no matter how many new litters get started tonight!"

My cheeks flamed hotter than the hearthfires at her words. Beth coughed indelicately while Martha and Anna hid their burning faces behind their hands.

Even the usually unflappable Suzanne appeared to struggle not to squirm beneath Elder Abigail's merciless ribbing.

The old crone cackled at our obvious discomfiture and humiliation, clearly taking impish delight in dismantling our frothy romantic delusions for a few moments at least.

"So unless you mean to have them all gnawing on your pretty new dresses for sustenance, I suggest you return these daydreams to the dusty old storing room you plucked them from for tonight!"

With that final barb, she turned and shuffled off, still chortling to herself. An uneasy silence fell over the kitchen in the wake of her departure.

At last, Suzanne cleared her throat and reached for the basket of unwashed potatoes where Anna had dropped it in her flurry of embarrassment. "Well!...I, for one, would like to avoid becoming a literal appetizer for the festivities tomorrow."

One by one, we all exchanged sheepish grins and fell back into our work rhythm. Though Elder Abigail's intervention had stopped the bubble of our romantic stories, I found my spirits couldn't be entirely dampened.


True love, I vowed silently, would outshine even the cruelest japes. And woe to anyone who doubted the indomitable spirit of hope it could imbue.

We girls worked in contented camaraderie through the rest of the evening preparations, exchanging the occasional quip or sidelong grin despite our heads now bent in industrious focus. A simmering, spirited energy thrummed through our hushed chatter and efficient movements.

For after the labors of this long night awaited a world brimming with possibilities - ones in which the notions of fated passions and lifelong bonds would take on dazzling, undeniable form at last.