The full moon bathed the pack lands in silver as laughter echoed across the valley. Torches flickered, music filled the air, and long tables overflowed with food. It was the *first Moonlight Festival* since Damon and Nyla had taken over as Alpha and Luna—and the first since peace returned.
Nyla stood near the bonfire, her arm around her little one—*Caleb*, the little Alpha—who clutched a stuffed wolf and wore a tiny crown made of moonflowers. "Look at him," Nyla whispered, heart swelling. "He thinks he's in charge."
Damon chuckled beside her. "He is. I just take orders."
They laughed, eyes locking like they always did—fire and warmth between them, no matter the chaos of the world.
"Go dance," Nyla nudged him. "You're too serious."
He raised a brow. "You first."
Aunt Maris swooped in, dressed in full festival flair—gold robes, flower bangles, and a glowing moon pendant. "I'll watch the pup. You two go have your moment. You've earned it."
Nyla handed over Caleb carefully, who happily clapped at Aunt Maris' jingling bracelets.
The drums started low and deep. Damon extended a hand with exaggerated formality. "May I, my Luna?"
Nyla took it, laughing. "You may, my Alpha."
They joined the circle of dancers—warriors, elders, omegas, and friends—swirling under the moonlight. It was a rare sight: Damon relaxed, smiling, spinning Nyla like they were nothing but two lovers with no kingdom to run.
From the edge, Kai squealed as Aunt Maris bounced him to the rhythm, shouting, "That's my mama!"
A round of cheers followed, some teasing, some genuine. Even Damon blushed.
After the dance, they walked back toward their table, hand in hand.
"I heard Kai growled at Beta Troy today," Nyla said.
"He what?" Damon grinned.
"Apparently, Troy wouldn't give him a second muffin. Kai bared his baby teeth."
"That's my boy."
They sat, and the evening rolled on with speeches, music, and sparring contests. Talia—the reformed troublemaker—led a mock fight for the younger wolves, and Miracle was seen helping the healers, smiling softly at Beta Troy when no one watched.
It was a night of healing. Of laughter.
As the stars spread across the sky, Caleb dozed on Nyla's lap, one hand in her hair. Aunt Maris sat beside her, sipping cider. "You've done well, Nyla," she said, voice warm. "More than I ever imagined for you."
Nyla looked down at her son, at the bonfire reflecting in Damon's eyes. "I didn't imagine it either. But I wouldn't change a thing."
From the forest's edge, a distant howl echoed—a call of peace, not warning. The entire crowd quieted, then slowly responded. Wolves in all forms lifted their voices under the moon.
Nyla joined the chorus, her heart swelling. Her wolf stirred inside her—not in rage, not in fear, but in joy. In unity.
For the first time in years, she felt no storm inside her. No threat waiting. Only calm. Only home.
Damon wrapped an arm around her as the howls faded.
"What are you thinking?" he asked.
She leaned into him. "That this—us, all of this—was worth the pain it took to find it."
He nodded, kissing the side of her head. "And it's only the beginning."
They sat that way, long after the fires dimmed and the music faded, wrapped in moonlight and the quiet promise of forever.
Spring had arrived in full bloom, and with it came the hum of new beginnings. The pack was alive with preparations for yet another celebration—not war, not coronation, but *a wedding*.
*Talia*, the once-jealous omega turned fierce ally, was marrying *Luca*, a scout from the hidden pack. No one had expected their quiet flirtation to blossom into something real, but here they were—hand in hand, eyes locked, and laughter spilling with every shared glance.
Nyla stood beside Talia, adjusting her delicate veil. "You sure you're ready for married life?"
Talia smirked. "I survived exile, rogue attacks, and being on your bad side. I think I'll manage."
Nyla grinned. "Fair."
As the ceremony began, *Beta Troy* stood proudly beside Damon, now mated to *Miracle*, whose redemption arc had softened the entire pack's heart. She had proven herself tenfold—and as she gently rubbed her round belly, Troy beamed like the moonlight itself.
"She's due any day now," he whispered to Nyla during the ceremony. "But she insisted we come."
"She's strong," Nyla replied, then smiled. "And stubborn."
From the audience, *Aunt Maris* dabbed her eyes dramatically with a lace handkerchief. "Weddings make me weepy," she sniffled, nudging a nearby warrior. "But don't you worry, darling, I'll dance all night."
Behind her, *Eli*, one of Damon's elite guards, sat with a bashful smile beside his mate—*Kira*, a hunter from the once-hidden pack. Their love had sparked during training drills and exploded during the final battle. Kira now trained young wolves, and Eli followed her like a shadow. They weren't married—yet—but the way they looked at each other spoke volumes.
*Lyla*, Nyla's human best friend who had chosen to stay, was now the pack's cultural bridge—teaching traditions, organizing events, and—rumor had it—sneaking kisses with *Blaze*, the cook's son.
After the ceremony, as the feast began, Damon lifted a glass. "To love in every form. To war survived. To peace earned. And to the future we're all building—together."
A thunderous cheer followed.
Later that night, Nyla and Damon sat watching Caleb chase butterflies in the garden, his giggles cutting through the breeze.
"He'll grow up in a world we helped shape," Nyla said, resting her head on Damon's shoulder.
"He'll grow up surrounded by love," Damon added.
And as music played, the stars above twinkled like they were winking—watching over every soul who had found home, healing, and happiness.
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