The Mad Supper

The bell's resonant peal rolled through Mooncrest Estate like a living thing—ancient bronze struck by ancient ritual, the sound carried on wolf-sense as much as air. It vibrated in Anna's bones, a call that bypassed human hearing and spoke directly to the beast within.

Dinner.

Anna was on her feet before the echoes faded, her wolf stirring with anticipation she hadn't felt in months. Not hunger—though that too—but something deeper. The prospect of pack. Real pack, not the cold hierarchy of the Ashworth estate where every meal had been a performance, every word weighed and measured.

Her phone chimed. A message from JB lit the screen:

'How are ya Anna, sorry I wasn't around, duty calls, hehe. Hope to see you at dinner, don't miss it for the world xoxo'

The casual warmth of it made her smile. She could practically hear his voice—that easy, unguarded tone that seemed impossible for an Alpha of his standing.

Anna threw open the wardrobe and froze. The collection before her could have outfitted royalty for a season. Silks and cashmeres, modern cuts alongside traditional pack formal wear, colors ranging from midnight to dawn. Someone had studied her perfectly—every piece would fit, she knew instinctively.

"Who has this kind of taste?"

she murmured, fingers trailing over fabrics. "And how did they know?"

She settled finally on an elegant black wrap dress—simple enough not to stand out, formal enough to show respect. The clock read 7:03. Late, but the bell just rang. Still...

Anna hurried.

The grand staircase descended into organized chaos. The dining hall opened before her—a massive space that married medieval grandeur with lived-in warmth. A table that could seat fifty, and probably had, regularly ,dominated the center, but tonight perhaps twenty wolves gathered around it. The architecture soared overhead: vaulted ceilings painted with lunar phases, chandeliers of antler and silver casting golden light, and windows that opened onto courtyards where torches already flickered against the deepening dusk.

But it was the sound that stopped her mid-step.

Laughter—genuine, raucous, unrestrained. Voices overlapping in a dozen conversations, jokes shouted across the table, someone singing off-key while others groaned in mock agony. The scent hit her next: roasted meat and herbs, fresh bread, and underneath it all, the mingled pack-scent of wolves who belonged  together. Not the forced unity of political alliance, but something earned through blood and time.

"There she is!"

Jebediah's voice cut through the din, his arm raised in enthusiastic greeting. "Come join us, Anna!"

Every face turned toward her.

Anna's breath caught. These weren't just wolves—these were warriors. The men at the table were massive, broad-shouldered , the kind of wolves who made Alphas nervous. Even seated, they radiated contained power. Jebediah looked almost slender among them, though she knew the strength coiled in his frame.

She descended slowly, hyperaware of twenty pairs of eyes tracking her progress. Wolf instinct warred in her chest—submit to the scrutiny, or meet it head-on? She compromised with a respectful bow as she reached the dining level, then quickly found an empty chair and sank into it.

An elderly woman sat to her immediate left. She was all grey hair and laugh lines, but her frame was solid as oak, her presence commanding despite her age. Sharp eyes—still bright, still menacing—fixed on Anna with an intensity that made her wolf want to tuck tail.

The room fell silent. Conversations died mid-sentence. Forks paused halfway to mouths.

The old woman leaned in close—close enough that Anna could see the lunar silver threaded through her irises—and sniffed. Not subtle, not polite. A deep, assessing inhalation that started at Anna's hair and worked methodically down to the curve of her neck. She turned Anna's chin with one weathered hand, examining her like a horse at market.

Anna's heart hammered. What is happening? Is this a test? Did I fail something?

The silence stretched. The old woman's expression remained unreadable.

Then her face split into a wide, mischievous grin.

     "I like her, can I keep her?"

The dining hall erupted. Laughter crashed over Anna like a wave—relieved, delighted, conspiratorial. Several wolves pounded the table hard enough to make the dishes rattle. Someone wolf-whistled. Another shouted,

"Every damn time, Mama Eunice!"

"Oh, come on, Mama!"

A striking woman with cornflower blue eyes and JB's same easy smile shook her head in mock exasperation. "You can't keep terrorizing our guests. That's completely unfair."

"Did you see her face?"

One of the massive warriors wheezed between laughs. "Pure gold! Classic Mama Eunice!"

"Grandmother, that was cruel,"

Jebediah protested, though his own shoulders shook with laughter.

Mama Eunice patted Anna's hand, her grip surprisingly strong.

"Don't mind me, dear. Just a house tradition—a little ritual. You see, I'm the one who officially approves everyone who crosses this threshold, decides if they're fit to run with the Ozeth pack."

Anna's voice came out higher than intended. "And... do I pass?"

"Child, you've got a spine that didn't break even when you thought I might bite you. Of course you pass."

She winked—actually winked—then took a long drink from her goblet. "Welcome to the madhouse."

"Mama Eunice approves everyone eventually," Jebediah called down the table. "So really, what's the point of the whole scary routine?"

"The point is entertainment, my boy. Don't be dense."

Eunice waved him off dismissively, which sent another ripple of laughter around the table.

Jebediah stood, raising his glass. The room quieted—not with fear, but with the natural deference given to a leader who'd earned respect rather than demanded it.

"Anna, welcome officially to the Ozeth family. The craziest, loudest, most obnoxious bunch of wolves you'll ever meet—and the best."

Anna managed a smile, though her heart still raced.

"Introductions!"

    Jebediah gestured broadly. "The terrifying creature beside you is Mama Eunice, my grandmother. Former Luna of Mooncrest, current matriarch, the scariest wolf you'll ever meet , and a notorious prankster. Don't let her crawl under your skin—she feeds on fear like other wolves feed on meat."

"Guilty,"

Eunice stage-whispered.

"And there—" Jebediah pointed to the blue-eyed woman, "—that's the actual best person in this whole estate and entire world. My mother, Maureen."

Maureen's smile was warm and genuine.

"Just Maureen, please. None of that formal nonsense under this roof."

She leaned forward with a glint of mischief. "And JB, you're absolutely right—she is lovely. Don't you think?"

"Mother—"

"Those eyes! And the bone structure! You could do worse, my dear boy."

Jebediah's ears went slightly red.

"Can we not do this right now?" But his protest was half-hearted, drowned out by knowing chuckles around the table.

He moved quickly along. "Those two overgrown beards to my left are Seth and Abijah. My twin brothers, professional troublemakers, amateur comedians."

The twins—identical down to their wild dark hair and full beards—spoke in perfect unison: "Was the 'overgrown beards' comment really necessary, brother?"

"Yes,"

    shot back a young woman with sharp features and sharper eyes. She pointed her fork at them like a weapon. "I've been telling you two lot to shave those ridiculous things for months. You look like feral rogue bikers who got lost on the way to a death race."

"Janet,"

Jebediah supplied, grinning. "My darling little sister. She'll scold you for breathing too loud, but she's fiercely protective once you're pack. Fair warning—she will reorganize your entire life if you let her."

Janet rolled her eyes but didn't deny it.

"And that quiet soul at the end—" Jebediah nodded toward a slender woman with dark hair who'd barely looked up from her meal, "—is Delilah. There's not much I can tell you about Dee because she's an enigma wrapped in a mystery, isn't that right?"

Delilah's lips curved in the barest smile. She didn't respond, just continued eating with elegant precision.

"The rest of the family couldn't fit in our small dining room,"

    Jebediah said, the irony clear as he gestured to the cavernous space. "Otherwise I'd be introducing you to about two hundred Ozeth pack members, and assorted troublemakers. But the core message is this: you're home now, Anna. Every wolf here is family. Treat them as such."

"Except Mama Eunice wants to keep you all to herself,"

Seth called out. "How greedy, Mama!"

"Damn right I'm greedy! You lot are boring!" Eunice shot back, and the room dissolved once more into cheerful chaos.

Anna couldn't help it—she laughed. Really laughed, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep and long-suppressed. The tension that had coiled in her shoulders since her arrest, since the trial, since the moment she'd realized her own pack had turned against her—it unwound, just slightly.

These wolves were powerful. She could sense it in the way they moved, the controlled strength in every gesture, the Alpha energy that hummed beneath JB's casual demeanor and radiated from Mama Eunice like heat from a forge. But they were also real. No pretense, no political masks, no careful dance of dominance and submission.

Just family.

Dinner was a glorious chaos. Platters passed hand over hand, conversations shouting across the table, someone recounting a hunt gone hilariously wrong while others heckled the details. The food was incredible—roasted venison with herbs she couldn't name, potatoes that melted on her tongue, vegetables pulled from gardens she'd glimpsed during the tour, bread still warm from ovens somewhere in the estate's depths.

And the stories. Every Ozeth seemed to have a dozen, and they interrupted each other shamelessly to correct details or add embarrassing embellishments.

"—and then JB, brilliant Alpha that he is, managed to shift mid-leap and land in the duck pond—"

"It was a tactical decision, Seth!"

"You smelled like pond scum for a week—"

Anna ate until her stomach ached, soaking in the warmth, the belonging, the sheer uncomplicated joy of it all. She could enjoy this forever.