#Chapter 62: The Picnic

Hannah By the time I stepped out onto the manicured grounds behind the main house, the festivities were already in full swing. Lively music filled the air, a folk band playing on a small stage erected near the gardens. The scents of roasting meats and fresh-baked pastries wafted through the crisp winter breeze, making my mouth water. Small bonfires had been lit at regular intervals around the open field, their crackling flames casting a warm, flickering glow over the milling crowds. Clusters of people mingled and laughed, paper plates piled high with food from the various vendors that lined the edges of the space. It was just as I had envisioned—a lively celebration, intimate yet grand, the perfect way to show off our pack’s charms. But I couldn’t see Noah anywhere. Furrowing my brow, I stepped further into the crowd, politely smiling in response to “Hello, Luna!” and “It’s so lovely to see you, Luna!” My gaze swept over the festival until I finally spotted him: Noah’s i