Chapter 170 – Night of Welcome
Chapter 170 – Night of Welcome
Dawn’s POV
The pack house glowed with lantern light when the moon rose. Warm gold spilled across the walls and wooden floors, chasing away the cold memories of the temple. The big front doors stood open, and the sound of many voices drifted into the night air like music.
I carried Rayna while Raven held Ryker. Both children were heavy with sleep, their tiny breaths soft against our shoulders. Each step toward home made my heart beat faster, as if it needed to see the pack before it could rest.
The main hall was already full. Wolves crowded the long tables—warriors still wearing their dusty boots, healers with smudges of salve on their sleeves, elders leaning on carved canes, and even pups who had clearly sneaked out of their rooms. The smell of pine and woodsmoke mixed with roasted meat until it felt like I was breathing comfort itself.
When we entered, every voice hushed.
For a heartbeat the world went still. I heard only the low crackle of the great fire and the slow, sleepy sigh of Rayna against my neck.
Then the cheering began.
It started as a single howl from the back of the hall, deep and sure. Another joined it, and another, until the sound became a storm. Hands clapped, feet pounded the floor, tails swished in a wild rhythm. The noise wrapped around us like a blanket of pure homecoming. I felt it settle into my bones.
Vanessa rushed forward first, her black braid swinging behind her. “They’re safe!” she cried, her voice breaking as she reached for Rayna’s cheek with trembling fingers. “Goddess, they’re safe!”
Kel followed close behind, his grin bright even through his tears. “About time,” he said, trying for a joke but failing when his voice cracked. He gave Raven a solid clap on the back that was half hug, half handshake.
Cole lingered a little behind them. His eyes stayed lowered, but hope shone there like a shy candle. After all the trouble, he still came.
Even Aunt Maris, the old cook who had raised half the pack on her bread and sharp words, stepped forward. She wiped her eyes with the corner of her apron. “They’ll want to see you,” she said, voice soft and thick. “All of them. But first—food. No hero stands on an empty stomach.”
The scent of roasted meat and fresh bread made my stomach tighten with sudden hunger. I hadn’t eaten more than a few bites in days, just enough to stay standing.
Raven gave a small nod, and the pack surged forward—not to crowd or take the children, but to touch our shoulders, brush the twins’ hair, and whisper quiet blessings. No one tried to lift Rayna or Ryker from our arms. They only needed to see them breathe.
When we finally reached the center table, the crowd formed a circle around us like a living wall. Plates of steaming stew appeared from nowhere. Fresh bread. Sweet berry tea that sent up curls of warm steam. I held Rayna in one arm and ate with the other, my body suddenly remembering how to be hungry. She stirred but did not wake.
Kel leaned across the table, his voice low beneath the hum of the hall. “Tomorrow the council will meet,” he said. “Elder Thorne sent word. They’ll want to hear everything.”
I felt Raven stiffen beside me, a ripple of tension under his calm.
“Let them come,” he said, his voice carrying farther than he meant. “Tonight we are family first. Council can wait.”
The words rolled through the hall like a spark. A softer, answering howl rose from the pack—an agreement, a promise of unity. The sound filled my chest until I thought it might break.
The feast stretched deep into the night. Songs rose—some ancient, with notes that sounded like prayers, and others playful and quick, meant to make the pups laugh. Warriors retold the battle in bright pieces, leaving out the darkest moments so the children would not fear their dreams. Laughter rang like bells against the stone walls.
I saw Cole slip away to help Aunt Maris carry more food. Vanessa danced with a circle of pups until they collapsed in a happy heap. Kel started a story so grand that even the stern elders smiled.
Raven stayed close to me, his arm brushing mine whenever someone passed too near. His presence was a steady warmth at my side. Every time our eyes met, something in my chest loosened a little more.
When the fire burned low and the hall smelled of sweet smoke and tired joy, Raven and I finally rose. A path opened for us without a word. The pack members bowed their heads as we passed, a quiet sign of respect that filled me with both pride and humility.
We climbed the familiar stairs to our room, carrying our sleeping children. The music from the hall followed us like a heartbeat, soft and steady.
Inside, the room smelled of clean sheets and pine. Someone had lit a small fire in the hearth, and its gentle light made the shadows soft. I laid Rayna on the bed while Raven settled Ryker beside her. They curled toward each other at once, a perfect mirror of their bond.
I sat on the edge of the mattress and simply watched. My hands trembled with quiet relief. Every rise and fall of their chests felt like a gift.
“They’re really here,” I whispered.
Raven knelt beside me, the firelight catching the silver in his hair. “They are.” He brushed a loose strand from my face. “And so are you.”
I turned to him, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “I thought I’d lost everything. My power. My children. Us.”
“You never lost us,” he said. His voice was steady, but his eyes told another story—one of sleepless nights and hidden fear. “Even if the moon left us both, I would stay.”
Tears slid down my cheeks. “What if Umbra tries again?”
“Then we fight again.” He took my hand and pressed it over his heart. The slow, strong beat pulsed against my palm. “We keep them safe. Together.”
I leaned into his shoulder, listening to that heartbeat. Outside, the pack’s song faded into the quiet of night. Inside, our children slept, warm and whole.
For the first time in many moons, I let my eyes close without fear.