Chapter 56

Chapter 56
Lyra’s POV

By the time evening settled over Solhaven, the entire keep felt different.

The tension that had hung over the pack since the rogue attack had slowly begun to loosen. Repairs had been made to the outer walls, patrols returned safely, and the wounded were recovering under Mira’s careful watch.

But more than that, something in the air had shifted.

Instead of whispers of fear, laughter drifted through the courtyard.

And right in the center of it all, the pack had built a massive bonfire.

The flames rose high into the night sky, sparks dancing upward like tiny stars. Wolves gathered in a wide circle around it—some sitting on rough benches, others on the grass, mugs of ale and bowls of food passed between them.

It was the first real celebration since the attack.

A way for the pack to remind themselves they were still standing.

I lingered near the edge of the courtyard, watching from the shadows beside the keep wall.

The warmth of the fire reached me even from here, but I didn’t step closer.

Not yet.

“Are you planning to stand there all night?”

I groaned softly.

“Kaelia.”

She appeared beside me with two mugs in her hands and a grin already forming.

“You look like someone forced you to attend a funeral,” she said, handing me one of the drinks.

“It’s a bonfire,” I replied cautiously.

“Yes.”

“And there are… a lot of people.”

“That tends to happen when a whole pack celebrates surviving a rogue attack.”

I took the mug, staring into the dark liquid inside.

“I don’t think they want me in the middle of it.”

Kaelia blinked.

“Lyra.”

“What?”

“They absolutely do.”

“You didn’t hear the way some of them talked about me last week.”

“That was last week.”

“People don’t change that fast.”

Kaelia raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the bonfire.

“Watch.”

Across the fire, Toren stood on a bench, waving a mug dramatically.

“I’m telling you,” he announced loudly, “the rogue came flying through the gate like a madman, and then—boom! Flames everywhere!”

Several wolves laughed.

Elias groaned from his seat nearby.

“That is not how it happened.”

“Yes it is,” Toren insisted.

“You were behind me!”

“Details!”

Someone else called out, “Wait—was that when the fire wolf showed up?”

A few heads turned.

My stomach tightened slightly.

But instead of whispers, someone raised their mug toward the flames.

“To the fire wolf!”

Several voices echoed it.

“To the fire wolf!”

I stared at them.

“They’re exaggerating,” I muttered.

Kaelia smirked.

“Pack storytelling.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s appreciation.”

“That’s worse.”

She grabbed my wrist suddenly.

“Come on.”

“What are you doing?”

“Fixing your terrible hiding strategy.”

Before I could protest, she dragged me toward the bonfire.

“Kaelia—wait—”

Too late.

We stepped into the circle.

Several wolves immediately noticed us.

Elias was the first to react.

“Well look who finally decided to join us,” he said.

Toren grinned widely.

“Speak of the fire wolf.”

I resisted the urge to groan.

“Please stop calling me that.”

“No promises,” Toren replied cheerfully.

Kaelia released my wrist and pushed me toward the open space near the fire.

“Sit,” she ordered.

“I can stand.”

“Sit.”

Reluctantly, I lowered myself onto the wooden bench between Elias and one of the older hunters.

A mug was immediately placed into my hand.

“Drink,” Elias said.

“What is it?”

“Something strong enough to make Toren’s stories sound believable.”

“Hey!” Toren protested.

Laughter rippled through the circle.

The warmth of the fire soaked into my skin as the conversation continued around me.

Stories flew back and forth—some about the attack, others about old hunts, ridiculous patrol mishaps, and embarrassing moments no one seemed shy about sharing.

At one point Toren dramatically reenacted his version of the rogue assault, complete with wild arm movements.

Elias shoved him mid-performance.

“You’re making it worse!”

“It’s called storytelling!”

“It’s called lying!”

More laughter.

Before I realized it, I was laughing too.

Really laughing.

Not the careful polite version.

A real laugh that slipped out before I could stop it.

Elias noticed immediately.

“There it is,” he said, pointing.

“What?”

“The fire wolf laughs.”

“Stop that nickname.”

“Never.”

Across the fire, Kaelia shot me a knowing look.

See?

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop smiling.

For the first time since arriving in Solhaven, I didn’t feel like an outsider watching from the edge of the pack.

I felt… included.

Like I belonged in the circle.

Even if I didn’t quite understand how that had happened.

A sudden shift in the energy around the bonfire made several wolves straighten.

I followed their gaze.

Draven had stepped into the courtyard.

He didn’t announce himself.

He rarely needed to.

The moment he appeared, the pack instinctively made space, nodding respectfully as he passed.

But tonight felt different.

Instead of stopping the celebration, the mood only grew warmer.

Toren lifted his mug toward him.

“Alpha!”

Draven inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment.

His gaze swept across the circle—and stopped when it reached me.

For a moment, the noise of the bonfire faded.

Our eyes met across the flames.

I suddenly became very aware that I was sitting among his pack, laughing with them like I had always belonged there.

The realization must have struck him too.

Because the expression in his eyes shifted.

Not surprise.

Something quieter.

Something almost… proud.

Elias leaned toward me and whispered, “You know the Alpha’s staring again, right?”

I elbowed him lightly.

“Be quiet.”

But when I looked back toward the edge of the firelight, Draven was still there.

Watching.

And for the first time since arriving at Solhaven—

I didn’t feel like I needed to hide from it.