Chapter 96 FEAST OF THE MOON II
Adam's POV
The sun is still hanging in the sky when Kael brings me out of our chamber, again. It's already evening.
The horse is waiting.
I stop short without meaning to.
“Oh,” I say. “That’s… festive.”
Kael’s horse looks nothing like it looked every other day. Its dark coat has been brushed until it shines, braided ribbons woven carefully into its mane. Small charms hang from the bridle, silver and blue, catching the light when the horse shifts. Flowers— real ones not plastic— are tied along the saddle and reins, their scent sweet and fresh.
Kael watches my face, clearly amused. “He’s very proud of himself today.”
“I would be too,” I mutter. “I feel underdressed standing next to him.”
Kael laughs quietly, then places his hands on my waist. “Hold still.”
Before I can question it, he lifts me up. It’s smooth and easy, like I weigh nothing at all. My breath catches as he settles me onto the saddle, his hands firm, careful, protective.
Then he climbs on behind me.
His chest is warm against my back. One arm wraps around my waist, steadying me, while the other holds the reins. I can feel his solid presence everywhere.
The huge gates of the pack house open. And the world explodes into color.
The streets are alive.
People fill every space— laughing, dancing, moving like the whole pack is one big family. Children run past us, moons and stars painted on their faces with white and light blue colours, streaks of blue and silver smeared across their cheeks. Some of them howl playfully, chasing each other between adults who don’t even scold them.
Music pours from every direction. Live bands sit on raised platforms, drums pounding deep and steady, flutes weaving bright notes through the air. Women spin in flowing skirts that catch the sunlight, fabric flaring out like petals. Men clap along, some singing, some just smiling as they watch.
The smell hits me all at once: roasting meat, baked bread, honey, flowers, smoke, spice. It’s overwhelming in the best way.
As Kael’s horse steps into the street, the atmosphere shifts.
People notice.
The music dims, softening until it becomes clapping and voices instead of instruments. Cheers ripple outward, like a wave. Flower petals fill the air, tossed up by laughing hands, raining down over us in bursts of color.
I gasp.
“Oh my—”
Kael chuckles behind me. “Try not to inhale the flowers.”
“I can’t promise anything,” I say, blinking as petals brush my cheeks and shoulders.
I look around, stunned.
Murals line the walls.
Not small ones. Massive paintings stretching across stone… Kael in different moments, different ages. Kael standing strong with warriors at his back. Kael smiling among children. Kael crowned, fierce and calm all at once.
There’s one mural that held my attention longer.
Kael’s parents.
They stand on either side of a younger Kael, hands resting on his shoulders. His mother’s smile is soft and bright. His father’s gaze is steady, proud.
Kael leans closer. “That one was painted after my coronation.”
I stare at it. “You have your mother’s face.”
He snorts. “I look more like my father.”
I tilt my head, studying the mural. “Well, maybe you should show me a picture of them later so I can decide.”
Kael smiles. “I sure will.”
I rest back against him as the horse continues forward, my heart full in a way I don’t quite know how to hold.
“They really love you,” I say quietly.
He stiffens just a little. “They respect the position.”
I shake my head. “No. This isn’t just respect.” I gesture around us— at the smiling faces, the petals, the way people look at him like he’s their god. “You’re a really good leader. Your pack looks like they have a good parent… and that good parent is you.”
His arm tightens around me.
“They love you,” I add softly. “And I do too.”
Kael exhales a laugh, shaky and warm. “I’m smiling so hard I might get a muscle pull and fall off this horse.”
I laugh, leaning into him. For a moment, everything feels perfect.
I catch myself wondering— briefly, foolishly— if one day there will be a mural of me on these walls too.
The street curves, leading us toward a stretch filled with handcrafted displays. Flower crowns hang from wooden frames. Necklaces made of dried petals and beads sway gently in the breeze. Bracelets, charms, little woven figures shaped like wolves.
A small girl breaks away from the crowd, clutching a flower necklace. She runs toward us, eyes bright.
A woman grabs her arm gently. “Wait—”
I lift my hand without thinking. “It’s okay.”
The woman hesitates, then nods. She lifts the girl up, holding her close as Kael slows the horse.
The girl reaches out, offering the necklace with a shy smile.
“For you,” she says.
My throat tightens.
I bow my head slightly so she can reach. She carefully slips the necklace over my neck, her hands trembling with excitement.
“Thank you,” I say softly. I reach out and brush her hair back, gentle. “Thank you, beautiful princess.”
Her eyes go wide.
She squeals and twists toward her mother. “Mama! Luna called me a princess!”
The woman laughs, eyes shining.
As we ride on, I can’t stop smiling.
“This might be the best day of my life,” I admit.
Kael presses his forehead briefly to the back of my head. “I’m glad.”
The ride feels like it lasts forever and not long enough at the same time. Every street is alive, every face glowing. I wave until my arm aches. I laugh until my cheeks hurt.
Eventually, the pack house comes back into view.
Now it’s night.
Torches light the open field behind the house, flames dancing high. Chairs and tables fill the space, most already occupied. In the center stands a stage, and at the head of it all, a raised platform with two chairs.
Ours.
Kael dismounts first, then lifts me down, setting me gently on my feet. His hand stays on my back as we walk forward.
The moment people see us, they stand up.
The noise fades, replaced by silence thick enough to feel.
We climb the steps and occupy our seats. Only then do they sit back down.
A wrestling match resumes on the field, cheers rising again, life flowing back into the night.