Bound To The Alpha

Chapter 9- Preparations For The Feast

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Myra's POV

The Silvermist Feast came only once a year, but the entire pack treated it like a sacred event. From sunrise, the pack grounds were alive with movement and laughter, the kind that carried on the wind like music. Wolves darted in and out of the clearing, carrying garlands of white flowers and woven branches, while the younger ones chased each other through the grass, leaving trails of giggles behind them.

I stood near the great hall, a basket of herbs in my hands, breathing in the mingling scents of pinewood, fresh bread, and smoke. Even after all these years, the Feast still managed to feel magical—like the forest itself came alive to celebrate with us.

The hall looked beautiful. Long tables stretched from one end to the other, draped in deep green linens. Wildflowers spilled from clay vases, their colors echoing the forest—amber, violet, soft cream. Lanterns hung from the rafters, their glass panes etched with moon symbols that shimmered faintly whenever light touched them. Outside, ribbons in silver and gold swayed from the trees, glinting under the soft touch of afternoon sunlight.

> “It’s too much, isn’t it?” I asked quietly, though not to anyone nearby.

“It’s perfect,” Niva murmured in my mind, her voice calm and steady. “Silvermist has always loved beauty. Let them have their peace while it lasts.”

I smiled faintly at her words. Niva always saw deeper than I did—where I noticed petals and color, she saw meaning. Peace before the unknown.

“Myra!” My mother’s voice carried from across the hall. Alexia was surrounded by trays of steaming pies, her auburn hair pinned up neatly, a few strands escaping to frame her face. “Can you check if the herbs for the stew are ready? We’ll need the feverleaf and mountain thyme soon.”

“I did that an hour ago,” I called back, trying not to laugh. “You made me triple-check already!”

She sighed, but her eyes softened when she met mine. “Good. Then help your friend with the centerpieces instead. I swear, this feast will be the end of me.”

Maren appeared at my side, her sleeves rolled up and her hands full of wildflower stems. “I think your mother’s secretly enjoying this,” she whispered, smirking.

“I think so too,” I whispered back.

We both laughed quietly as we set the flowers into glass jars, arranging them between the candles that lined the tables. The flickering light made the petals look almost alive, like tiny tongues of flame.

“Do you think the visiting packs will like it?” Maren asked after a moment.

“I hope so,” I said, though my voice sounded distant even to me. “The feast is meant to build trust, right? Strengthen ties.”

“Between packs, yes,” she teased. “Not between you and anyone in particular.”

I gave her a look, but my cheeks warmed anyway. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” she said too innocently. “You’ve just been… distracted lately.”

Before I could respond, the main doors opened, and a hush spread through the hall. Alpha Elandor stepped inside with Luna Lucy beside him. He carried his usual air of quiet strength—every step measured, every word deliberate. Luna Lucy’s presence balanced his perfectly; her smile gentle but commanding enough to still a room.

“My pack,” Alpha Elandor began, his deep voice carrying easily, “the Feast is not only a celebration of Silvermist, but of unity. This year, representatives from several neighboring packs will join us—Riverdale, Crescent Vale, and Moonfang among them.”

The name struck me like a sudden gust of cold wind.

Moonfang.

My hands went still on the table. The room seemed to fade into a blur of motion and noise, but all I could hear was the quiet rush of my own heartbeat.

Lucian.

It had been days since that moment by the river, yet the memory was sharper than ever—the way his eyes had met mine, the power that rolled off him like a storm. And his scent… gods, I could still feel it in my lungs. Cedar and smoke, dark and grounding. It had wrapped around me, both dangerous and familiar, like the forest before a storm.

> “You remember him,” Niva whispered softly.

I closed my eyes briefly. “I’m trying not to,” I murmured under my breath.

“Then why does your heart race?”

I didn’t have an answer.

Applause rippled through the hall as the Alpha finished speaking, but I barely heard it. I busied myself straightening the tablecloth that didn’t need fixing, willing my hands to stop trembling. The thought of seeing him again—of being near that pull—sent something wild and unsteady coursing through me.

Maren nudged me gently. “You okay?”

“Fine,” I said quickly, forcing a small smile. “Just a little tired.”

She gave me a knowing look but didn’t push further.

As the hall began to empty, I lingered behind, letting the quiet settle around me. Outside, the wind carried the faint echo of distant howls from beyond the valley. Guests were already on their way.

I exhaled slowly and pressed my palm to my chest.

“Cedar and smoke,” I whispered, tasting the memory of him on my tongue. “Why can’t I forget?”

Niva didn’t answer this time, and for once, I was grateful.

Because deep down, I already knew.

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