Party Central

POV: The Pack

Saturday morning hit, and by the time the sun burned all the way into the sky, Richard's birthday prep was already a circus. Party started at dusk, which meant there was a shitload to do, and Richard had zero trouble rounding up a pack of single she-wolves eager to help. They showed up one after another, tossing out suggestions nobody asked for, dragging their feet on tasks that should've taken ten minutes tops. Every single one of them wanted him to look up and notice her.

Normally he'd be tearing up some club or dive bar for his birthday, chasing loud music and strange bodies and a night that dissolved into blur by sunrise. Throwing the party at home instead had tongues wagging all over the pack. People whispered he was finally sick of the chase, maybe even ready to settle. Whether that was true or complete bullshit, it bought him serious goodwill with the females, who eyed him now like he was some kind of riddle worth cracking open.

Let them wonder, he thought. Keeps things interesting.

The training yard, usually just packed dirt and old sweat, had turned into something unrecognizable. Strings of lights wove through the trees, throwing down a soft glow that took the edge off the sparring ring. Tables sat in neat rows, tops bare and waiting to be loaded up. Coolers got hauled in and stacked by the makeshift bar, sweat already running down their sides in the thick morning heat. Richard, feeling generous, let the pups stick around for the first couple hours before things went adults-only, which earned him even more brownie points with the moms. Truth was, he liked having the pups underfoot. Liked their noise, their laughing, the way they made something restless in his chest go quiet for a while. He'd never say that out loud though.

Food showed up at five. Ice at four. Everything timed so people could eat before the real party got going. Pups out by eight. Adults in for the long haul after that.

Now all James has to do is get Trishelle into that dress.

Richard's eyes drifted to the pack house, a slow smirk pulling at his mouth as he pictured how that particular mission was going. Knowing James, it was probably a disaster already.

POV: James

I knew exactly what Richard wanted me to do. I had absolutely no fucking idea how to actually pull it off.

Just tell her to go change. Easy. Except nothing about her was easy anymore.

There'd been a time when it would've taken two seconds, some smartass comment about what she was wearing, and she'd have gotten the message loud and clear. That version of me hadn't cared how the words landed, hadn't noticed the flinch or the way she'd go quiet after. But that wasn't me now, hadn't been for weeks, and just thinking about going back to it made me sick. I could practically taste the old version of myself, and it left a bad taste in my mouth. I could pull rank, drop the Alpha voice, make her do it without a fight. God knew it'd be simple enough. But forcing her felt worse than saying nothing at all. Felt like taking a sledgehammer to something we'd only just started building, brick by brick, out of nothing but scraps and stubbornness.

I blew out a breath and walked to the window, looking down at the yard, at the string lights and the tables and the current of excitement humming through the pack tonight. Laughter floated up through the glass, mixed with low conversation and the occasional yip of some young wolf too wound up to wait for moonrise.

Has it really been this long since we did something that wasn't a funeral or a first shift ceremony? The thought settled over me like a weight I hadn't noticed carrying. Maybe I needed to change that. Give my pack something worth looking forward to, instead of just another day to survive. They deserved better than a life stitched together out of grief and obligation.

A knock cut through my thoughts. I called them in, and Beta Juda walked through the door with Gamma Steve right behind him, both wearing that focused look that meant business, not a social call.

"Alpha." Steve held out a folder. "Got that update you wanted."

I blinked, caught somewhere between moonlight and old regrets, until Juda gave me a small nudge. "About the Goldmoon pack, Alpha. The new neighbors."

"Right." I took the folder, forcing my brain back into the room. "Go ahead."

Steve settled into the chair across from me and started talking, even and practiced, like he'd run through this speech in his head more than once. "Nothing sketchy about them, as far as we can tell. Small pack, moved around a lot over the years, but always cleared it with the Council first. Never went rogue. Their old Alpha built some kind of business empire, ended up buying a huge building in the city, half offices, half pack housing. They'd take the whole crew out to the woods once a month so any new wolves could shift safe, away from human eyes."

He flipped a page, the sound sharp in the quiet office. "High birth rate. Good luck finding mates outside the pack too, and when that happens, the mate's family usually packs up and moves in with them, since Goldmoon's got steady jobs to offer. They've even taken in a few rogues along the way."

"Business got big enough they started looking at a second building, maybe five years back. Then the old Alpha got sick, stepped down, and the whole expansion thing stalled out." Steve's voice dropped a notch, like he could feel the weight of what came next. "He died two years ago. Made his son the new Alpha. Few months later, the kid started the paperwork with the Council to claim land, which is how we ended up neighbors."

Steve dropped the folder onto the desk, the sound quiet and final. "Everything else is in there."

"What's the company called?" I asked, some itch in the back of my mind telling me I'd heard the name before, though damned if I knew why it mattered.

"Goldband Electronics."

I turned the name over in my head, felt it scratch at something just out of reach, a splinter I couldn't dig out. But nothing came of it. Not yet.

POV: Trishelle

I didn't know what to do with myself.

Standing around this close to dinner with nothing to prep felt wrong. No pans to juggle. No list of demands barking at me from every direction. My hands hung empty at my sides, useless, twitchy, like they'd forgotten how to just... stop. Someone had told me flat out that I had the night off, and it took a full sixty seconds of standing in the middle of the kitchen before that actually sank in. Even then, some small paranoid piece of me kept bracing for the other shoe to drop, for someone to storm in and say it had all been some cruel joke.

I wrung my hands and walked up to one of the she-wolves setting up outside, asking quiet and shy if there was anything she could do. My voice came out smaller than I wanted, thin and worn down from years of expecting to get shut down before I even finished the sentence.

Here it comes. The look. The polite little brush-off.

But the woman just smiled and shoved a box of string lights into my hands, nodding toward a stretch of trees that needed decorating. That was it. No sneer. No curled lip at the sight of an Omega offering to be useful for once.

Something cracked open in my chest, some knot I'd been carrying so long I'd forgotten it was there, and I threw myself into the work with an energy I hadn't felt in years. I hung lights, spread tablecloths, packed coolers, laid out utensils, even got dragged into blowing up balloons with a pack of pups who wouldn't shut up about what they wanted for their own birthdays. Their laughter, easy and unbothered, the way they tugged my sleeve without flinching, without fear, lit something warm low in my belly.

I did this. Me. Not because someone ordered me to, but because they actually wanted me here.

For the first time in longer than I could count, I felt like I belonged somewhere, and that feeling did something to my face without me even realizing it. Softened me. Lit me up in a way I hadn't dared show in public in years. The tension I always carried in my shoulders, that constant flinch waiting for a blow that never seemed to stop coming, melted clean away. Something lighter took its place. Something close to joy.

I had no clue how good I looked like that, but the males working nearby sure did. Heads turned. Eyes lingered a beat too long, quiet about it, careful, but noticing all the same. A couple of them straight up forgot what they were doing, caught staring at me laughing with the pups like I'd hung the damn moon.

The difference was so sharp, so far from the quiet, hunched-over Omega everyone was used to, that the mind link lit up with chatter within the hour. Her smile. Her cheeks flushed pink and glowing. How different she looked tonight, standing tall instead of trying to disappear into the wallpaper.

Word reached the Alpha fast.