If someone, a couple of months ago, had told me "You'll sit among werewolves to eat the meat you procured, and you'll enjoy it," I would have laughed my throat raw, questioning their sanity.

But here I was. Walking along the path that would take me to the main bonfire, where a big cauldron was enveloped by flames. Steam erupted from it, and the sound of something boiling resonated through the otherwise silent evening. Silent, even though a hundred of werewolves were watching me take step after step. I could feel their gazes everywhere, on the exposed skin of my face, of my arms, of my neck. But it wasn't unpleasant. I did not feel threatened. Because this was a feast in my honor. And they were honoring me. When I passed, fingers touched foreheads and then cheeks. Some faces I recognized, others I didn't. Like Grace's, who was standing a few feet away from me, like Robert's, who watched me with kind eyes. I kept my stride steady, even if my legs were slightly trembling. My wolf, on the other hand, was basking in the attention we were receiving. She was standing straight, tall, proud. And I let her. This felt like a moment of closure, for her and me both. An epiphany of the years we spent in each other company. We had been distrustful of others for so long, having only had each other to rely on, that it felt impossible to be surrounded by so many of our kind. But it wasn't. Because the Silverblood pack gave us hope. Hope that we could still belong, if we wanted to. And belonging had started to sound not so unappealing, after all.

I kept walking. By now, only a few feet separated me from the bonfire. And the figure standing in front of it. Cast in shadowy light, the Silverblood Alpha looked menacing. But there was a softness in the blue of his eyes, a softness that made my skin warm all over. And made my heart skip a beat. Through the flames I could see Nora, Cameron and Sean standing on the other side of the bonfire, but my attention was solely on Hercules. The circles under his eyes had vanished, leaving his irises resplendent of their beauty. And I wondered...I wondered how it would feel, to sleep alone in the cabin that night. But before I could let myself think of it, two Elders appeared from behind the bonfire, hands carrying a ball of fur each.

My pelts.

One dark brown, the other russet.

I halted in front of them, my boots falling silent. The crackling of the fire kept me conscious of the passing time as I observed the two wolves. Females, with grey streaked hair and lines on their faces. They said no words as they showed me the pelts. I tried to mask the trembling of my hand as I caressed them, starting with the pelt of the mountain lion. The fur was bristly but shiny, no traces of blood coating it. The bear's one was soft and thick, my fingers disappearing through the strands. I took the risk of looking up, and hazel met blue. I knew Hercules hadn't missed my hands shaking- he was too much observant for that. But he offered me a small bow of his head and my fingers stilled. There was nothing to be nervous about. I had done it. I had won. I had saved a member of the pack. I had procured the meat to feed said pack for tonight.

Me.

A wolf born human. Pack-less.

My fingers weren't trembling anymore when the two Elders took the pelts away. My spine was straight, and my head held high. No more fear of judgment, not when the pack had gratitude and respect in their eyes while looking at me. Not when Hercules' eyes were searing into me like a brand. Not when he brought two fingers to his forehead and then to his cheek. Not when the whole pack followed. I felt the sting of tears behind my eyelids as the breath left my lungs. I couldn't remember the last time I had cried, but it wouldn't be today. Even though my bare soul wanted to break into sobs and tears and cry out to the sky. Because this moment, this moment, truly felt like closure.

Hercules was handed an empty bowl by one of the Elders and I watched as he filled it with the stew slowly cooking in the cauldron. Then, he handled it to me. An Alpha serving me food in front of his whole pack. I took the bowl, my fingers brushing his. We couldn't look away from each other. He had already fed me while I had been injured, but this time it felt more intimate even though we were surrounded by people. I willed myself to take the bowl and divert my attention, but it was difficult to stop looking at him. But then the Silverblood pack started whooping and cheering and I had the chance to refocus on reality.

It was time to eat the meat I had procured.

———-

The stew was amazing. And so was the company.

I was seated with Grace, her brother and a group of their friends and, at some time along the evening, Nora had joined us. They entertained me with stories about the pack and, despite everything, I found myself drawn in, wanting to hear and learn more. Grace even recounted her encounter with the bear, explaining in great detail how I managed to save her life. Her friends must had heard that story already, but still, they listened with rapt attention. Her brother fell silent during her report, stirring the stew in his bowl, as if he felt sick at the thought of eating the beast that had almost killed his sister. But when he caught me looking, he smiled and bowed his head before eating a spoonful. I was on my second serving and felt full, my wolf languorously rumbling in the back of my mind, fully satisfied. I took a sip of cider as Nora recalled her own experience during the Hunt, but I zoned her voice out when I felt his eyes on me.

I had felt them multiple times throughout the evening. The weight of his gaze was unmistakable.

He was sitting at a table far away with his inner pack - minus Nora - and other wolves, Bekka included. My wolf interrupted her peaceful slumber to rumble deep in her chest. We hadn't forgotten our encounter, nor her words, but she hadn't approached us since then. For now, her tongue could stay in its place. I met Hercules' gaze, and a slick of heat went down my spine. He had yet to talk to me, but words were not needed when his eyes conveyed everything. In the days spent together, we had learned more of each other's body language. And as much as I was embarrassed to admit it, his attention had been on me as much as mine had been on him. Throughout the evening, I unconsciously found myself searching for his frame through the crowd, feeling relieved whenever I spotted him. His presence reassured me in a way I couldn't explain. I raised my pint of cider in a toast and saw an hint of a smile blossom on his lips. Nora had finished talking when I put my drink down, licking the foam from my lips. I leaned into her, inhaling her peculiar citrusy scent.

"Nora, what did Hercules bring back from the Hunt? I never asked him."

"He was tailing a big group of moose when Grace mind linked the pack to ask for help. He had brought two down by the time he answered her call for help. Nothing compared to what you brought back. You handled his ass to him."

I smiled at that.

"Yes. Yes, I guess I did."

"And then," she added, "thanks to you, us females won this year. We'll rub it in the males' big ass egos for the year to come."

Her eyes showed mirth, but there were gratitude and admiration as well. Many had approached me tonight to thank me for my bravery, and instead of being skeptical of their intentions, I choose to believe in them.

"But now," she said, slapping her hands on the table, "it's time to dance."

As she finished the sentence, the rhythmic tune of drums became prominent. Dancing? I didn't know there was even dancing planned for tonight. I watched as males and females stood up from the tables, compelled by the music, and reached the bonfires. Even the pups followed, squealing in delight. Nora took my hand and stood up as well.

"Come on, let's go."

I didn't move, uneasiness now conquering my body. Eating among them was a thing, but dancing? Dancing was a way to express freedom and joy, and to bond with others through those feelings. Nora tugged at my arm and I felt my feet move, even if my mind was rooted in place. I watched as bodies lost themselves to the rhythm, as arms were thrown to the night sky, as lips were pulled back in shouts of happiness. I aspired to reach that level of freedom- of freedom from my raging mind. She always asked me to overachieve and never stop, but for tonight - for tonight- maybe I could allow myself to have fun. To feel happy. To feel free. So I followed Nora to the bonfires, and followed her moves when she started dancing.

I danced. And danced. And danced.

I moved my body to the rhythm of drums, sweat coating my skin, empty minded. I smiled, and laughed, and danced with Nora, with the pups and even with strangers. My blood was buzzing in my veins, my feet felt light, and I felt happy. I couldn't remember the last time I had felt this way, but it probably dated back to when I had been human. And I was keenly aware of the eyes burning on my sweated skin and hair, not leaving a place untouched. I swayed my hips and shoulders, letting my hair fall on my back, the rhythm of the drums echoing my heart. And I found myself wondering...how it would feel to dance with him, to feel his hands on me in front of these bonfires, to share this sense of freedom with him. And I decided, then and there, that that would be a point of no return. A point of free falling. No safe nets. But tonight was not a night for unwanted worries, so I smiled and took Nora's arm, spinning us around.

And I danced the night away.

————-

Finding the courage to start again.