Mated to the Alpha CEO
Vestra, gruff as ever, allowed an elderly healer to tend to a wound she had been hiding for days.
Aria stayed close to Lira, the urn never far from her side. Together, they accepted the well-wishes of the western wolves and prepared for the evening's ceremony.
As the sun began to set, painting the valley in shades of amber and rose, Mera led them to a hilltop at the edge of the village. It was a place of ceremony — a circle of standing stones, ancient and weathered, their surfaces carved with runes that predated the Clans. The western wolves gathered in a ring around the stones, and Lira's pack filled the spaces between them. The evening air was cool and clean, carrying the scent of wildflow