Wildborn

The Familiar Stranger

A low tremor of drums sounded, deep and deliberate, accompanied by brass horns and a regal undercurrent of deep cellos and basses. The orchestra began to bloom as Kai stepped forward with Soriah on his arm; a sleek line of midnight and onyx beside black and tan.

Kai towered over the crowd at 6'7", broad shouldered and built with the kind of strength that came from a lifetime of purpose. His tailored black suit fit him as naturally as training leathers might have, the tan silk waistcoat beneath bringing warmth to his olive complexion, every detail polished without feeling forced. He carried himself with easy confidence, smiling as he greeted familiar faces, making each person feel noticed despite the attention fixed on him. His espresso hair had been pushed back for the evening but refused complete discipline, and together with expressive brows and a jawline that seemed carved from stone, he looked every inch the future Alpha people already believed in.

To Kai's right, Dominic moved with the quiet confidence of someone who had long ago stopped caring whether a room approved of him. Midnight blue disappeared into black across the clean lines of his tailored suit, the darker palette sharpening his already striking features into something almost predatory. Every detail was immaculate, from the crisp lapels to the tie the color of a bruised evening sky, yet nothing about him felt polished for anyone else's benefit. He wore the darkness effortlessly.

On Kai's other side walked Galen, broad enough to make even tailored clothing seem secondary to the man beneath it. His deep brown suit and forest-green tie suited him as naturally as the mountains surrounding Umbral Dawn, the warm chestnut of his hair catching the lantern light until it glowed like burnished copper. Where Dominic carried an edge that invited caution, Galen's easy smile softened the space around him, the kind of man who looked equally capable of carrying someone out of danger or pulling them into a bear hug afterward.

Together, they crossed the garden in practiced rhythm, friends whose strengths could not have been more different; Kai, sunlight; Dominic, shadow; and Galen, stone. Three very different men moving with the effortless synchronicity of lifelong brothers.

Alpha Marcos welcomed them all to the stage with half hugs and handshakes, and Luna Isabella and Sera embraced them with happiness and warmth at their homecoming, all to the chorus of enormous applause and cheers.

Alpha Marcos took the microphone, and his voice rolled out steady and warm.

“Umbral Dawn,” he said, simply, and the crowd answered with a swell. “Tonight we celebrate the return of our warriors, the return of our future Alpha, and the strengthening of our bonds. We gather in the Luna’s Garden,” he glanced toward Isabella, who tilted a smile back “because what we defend must always be seen as well as said.”

The kitchen terrace was a blistering ballet. Omegas moved like a single living thing, lifting and turning and tasting in unison. Steam clouded the lamps; someone cursed; a girl cried because she’d singed her wrist and someone else dabbed salve over it without breaking rhythm. Del met Bri with a ladle in one hand and a look of murderous focus.

“Back burner,” Del said. “We’ve shifted two pots forward, but we need that heat. If we don’t get the risotto up in eight minutes, I can’t hold the trout.”

Bri knelt to inspect the stove, but cautious not to ruin her dress, and noticed that the pilot light was out.

"You have a long match?"

"The pilot light," Del said in sudden realization. She knelt next to Bri after retrieving a long match. "I'm so sorry Bri, I should have checked." The flame caught, sputtered, steadied. “Fuel set,” Bri called.

“Bless the moon,” Del breathed, turning back to her station. “Plating in four.”

There was a roar from the garden, cheers swelling, then cresting.

“That’ll be him,” an Omega said, smiling into the steam.

Bri couldn’t help it. She glanced up the steps that led back to the lawn, caught a sliver of black and tan at the top, and for a heartbeat felt the entire garden thrum. Eira sat up a bit in her mind, but Bri pushed her back without asking any questions. She had to make sure they got the food out. She stuck with the burners until the pots simmered in steady, glossy waves, then wiped her hands, turned it back over to Del, and stepped into the cool hallway to compose herself.

Looking in the mirror she was surprised how well her hair and makeup had stood up to the chaos of the evening. Dress on point, not a hair out of place, a quick reapply of lip gloss, and a deep breath.

Bri stepped back into the gardens and stood at the side of the sound booth in the back.

She saw all the figures on stage, but her attention focused on Alpha Marcos as he continued the speech she had walked into.

Alpha Marcos swept the students with his gaze. “To our students, I hope you're all ready to get back to Lunebrook. Term starts Monday, and with it, our traditions. You carry our legacy, our pride, and our future. Honor what you are by training it well.”

Applause answered from the west terrace from all the students. Alpha Marcos continued, tone lifting. “A special word to our Year Twos, those preparing to undergo the Lumen Praxis.” A murmur rippled, nervous, thrilled. “You will be tested. You will be revealed. Trust the light and your own mettle. You bear our history and our hope.”

Cheers again; someone whistled and an elder shushed them with a fond glare.

Then Alpha Marcos paused, gaze tipping toward the eastern edge of the crowd as if he’d glimpsed something the rest had not. “And one more thing,” he said, a warmth creeping into his voice that hadn’t been scripted. “Tonight, Umbral Dawn is honored to welcome home a name we have long known in story, and now will know in person.”

Bri felt her breath catch.

“Join me in welcoming to Umbral Dawn, Riona Ricci, Lunaris Dualborn, and her family. Marina. Lena. And Bri.”

Delta Petra materialized at Bri's elbow and whispered, “Go.”

“What?”

Petra’s hand pressed to Bri’s back. “Go to the stage. You’re being called.”

Bri turned toward the lights. On the steps beside the platform stood her mother, Marina, in a simple cream dress; her sister, Lena, wide-eyed and elegant in lavender; and at their side, her grandmother, Riona, unflappable as stone, a dark shawl around her shoulders, chin lifted with quiet defiance. Luna Isabella had moved to greet them as they ascended the stage, smile soft and sure.

The world narrowed into a thin, bright tunnel. Bri walked because her legs knew how; the emerald velvet of her dress whispered against her skin with each step. She felt every eye as weight and heat looking at her with curiosity, calculation, warmth, she tried not to flinch beneath it.

I've got you Eira came forth to provide an added layer of grace.

At the foot of the stairs Bri hesitated briefly, and with Eira made her way onto the stage with poise in excess.

Alpha Marcos and Luna Isabella both smiled at her, genuine, not the polished smiles hosts reserve for strangers. Marcos’s grip was firm when he shook her hand; Isabella’s was warm, followed by Sera who released her from her hug, but maintained a hold on her hand, steadying Bri.

To the other side of the stage stood Galen; he assessed her in a glance, then gave a brief, friendly nod and a smile that made his oak-solid frame seem approachable. Kai stood beyond him, the crowd’s attention sitting on him like a cloak; he glanced at Bri, offered a polite acknowledgment, then returned his focus to his father without a ripple. On the other side, Dominic watched her openly. His eyes were pale gold rimmed by charcoal lashes, cool and unblinking.

A small scar split his left eyebrow, subtle, the kind your gaze couldn’t help drifting back to. His expression barely shifted, but something about that steady, measuring look skimmed along her skin like a touch.

Then one corner of his mouth tipped upward, slow and knowing. Not quite a smile, more the kind of smirk that suggested he’d already taken her measure and liked what he saw.

It was ridiculous how good he looked doing it.

And judging by the easy confidence in his eyes, Dominic Varro knew it.

Interesting, quipped Eira, and then she receded to the back of her mind.

Alpha Marcos’s voice carried again. “In the weeks to come, we will hold a formal ceremony to bring this family fully into the pack. For tonight, let your welcome be the first step.”

Applause rose loud, enthusiastic, spilling into cheers as Luna Isabella took Bri’s other hand and lifted it for the crowd to see, a quiet promise made visible.

The speech closed with a simple, “Eat well. Dance longer. And remember who you are.” Music swelled. Lanterns shimmered as if they understood command.

Bri did not get to enjoy the afterglow. She stepped down from the stage and discreetly returned to the planning hub, checked with Del (risotto set, trout perfect, auxiliary table purring contentedly), and paced the garden’s perimeter twice. The meal service went off without incident, because she hovered near every potential one and stamped it out before it sparked: a tray cuff about to scrape a gown, a child wandering too near the heat lamps, a stack of champagne flutes precarious on a tilted tray. She adjusted, rerouted, refilled.

Only when the dishes had been cleared, the coffee and sweets stations arranged, and the dance floor revealed beneath a canopy of threaded starlight did Petra find her again.

“You’re released,” Petra said with brusque affection. “If anything catches fire, I’ll call you back.”

“Please don’t,” Bri said, laughing.

“I won’t.” Petra’s mouth quirked. “Go be a guest.”

She stepped onto the edge of the dance lawn and stood there for a second, unsure how one became “a guest” after living as a triage nurse for three hours. She didn’t have to decide, Sera spotted her from across the lawn and bee-lined over, taking her hand.

“Finally,” Sera said. “Come with me.”

They wove through the crowd to a quiet pocket near the fountain where Soriah, Kai, Galen, and Dominic stood in a loose half-circle. Up close, the effect of them together was… a lot. It wasn’t just height, though they had that in generous excess, a commonality with Bri; it was presence—four distinct gravities, intersecting.

Soriah turned first. Reserved, yes, but there was warmth in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. “Bri,” she said, and the use of her name felt deliberate. “Thank you. For tonight. I actually got to enjoy it.”

The simple admission made Dominic's gaze flick to Soriah, then to Bri again, curious now as well.

“I’m glad,” Bri said. “You deserved one evening to be a person, not a coordinator.”

Sera’s smile warmed, pleased with the exchange.

“Bri, you’ve met Soriah. This is my brother, Kai.”

Kai’s attention slid to her. Up close, those espresso-dark brows framed eyes that were darker than she expected, thoughtful rather than brooding. His handshake was firm and brief.

“Welcome to Umbral Dawn,” he said polite, sincere, and already halfway out of the interaction. He glanced back to Soriah, something unspoken passing easily between them. “Dance?”

Soriah’s mouth softened. “Yes.”

She touched Bri’s arm once in thanks and let Kai lead her toward the dance floor, black and tan moving in counterpoint to midnight silk.

Galen watched them go and huffed a laugh, friendly and unbothered. “Don’t take it personally,” he said to Bri. “They’re always like that. Return nights are a whole thing.”

He extended a hand the size of a dinner plate. “Galen Rossi.”

“Bri Ricci,” she said, smiling as he enveloped her hand with surprising gentleness.

“Welcome,” Galen said. “For what it’s worth, the risotto was a genius save. My uncle would have started a diplomatic incident if he’d missed his trout.” His eyes crinkled at the corners; he had the kind of face that made people relax.

“If you ever need help moving a table through a crowd of stubborn elders, I’m your man.”

“I’ll remember that,” Bri said, laughing.

Sera turned, her voice taking on a slightly formal lilt. “And this is Dominic. Dom.”

Dominic inclined his head a fraction. Up close, the cut of his suit was even sharper, lapels like night, stitching that vanished and reappeared with the light.

“Seraphina,” he said by way of greeting, the full form of Sera’s name crisp on his tongue. “You grow more diplomatic every term.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Sera replied sweetly. “Dom, Brielle Ricci. Bri, Dominic Varro.”

Bri dipped her head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you, for the welcome to the pack.”

A ghost of a smile touched his mouth. “So you do have manners.”

The words were not unkind, just edged, as if he were testing how she wore courtesy. Bri blinked, thrown, not by the remark, but by the faint prickle skittering down her spine at the sound of his voice. Something about the cool evenness of it. The watchfulness.

He watched her with steady, measuring focus. Then tilted his head to the side questioningly. Like … a puppy…

Oh, she realized, heat curling at the edge of her composure.

The white wolf.

Told you he was important.