Emily's POV
The kitchen of the packhouse was bustling with activity, filled to the brim with more people than it was probably designed to hold. But then again, packhouse kitchens were built for pack life, which meant they were essentially industrial-sized compared to normal homes. Still, with the triplets, Alpha Christ, Luna Olivia, and myself all crammed in there, it felt like we were sardines in a very luxurious can.
The occasion? Luca's discharge from the hospital. Mom had insisted on cooking a "small" celebratory dinner, which in Olivia-speak meant enough food to feed a small army. Or, you know, a pack of hungry werewolves.
I leaned against the counter, watching in amusement as Mom worked her culinary magic – literally. Vegetables danced through the air, lining up to dive into bubbl
