Chapter 288

Hannah

It was well past sundown, and the grounds were still bustling with people, while more pack members from both Silvermoon and Nightcrest continued to flood through the front gates. The soft blue hue of the rising moon bathed the trees in pale light, and the air was mingling with the scents of roasting meat, baked pastries, and fresh bread. The sound of laughter and distant chatter blended into the background like a distant hum.

“I think we might have actually pulled it off,” Noah murmured beside me. “Look at how many people showed up.”

I scanned the crowd again, taking it all in. He was right—the turnout was incredible. Everywhere I looked, Silvermoon and Nightcrest members mingled together like old friends. Children darted between legs, laughing and clutching sugary chunks of fried dough, while groups of teenagers gathered in clusters near the game booths, their laughter floating into the air.

It had been a truly wonderful day. Everything had gone off without a hitch. And now, there was just one last hurrah before the night was over: the concert.

But despite the joy that surrounded me, I couldn’t help but feel tense. My gaze drifted toward the stage where the Alpha Council members sat, their expressions carefully neutral as they watched from their elevated seating area, sipping drinks and murmuring quietly amongst themselves.

Their presence was a reminder of the stakes behind today’s festivities. We weren’t just here to have fun. We were being judged.

“Did you check in with the bands?” I asked Noah. It was probably the twentieth time I had asked, but I couldn’t help it. This had to go perfectly.

“Yes, love,” Noah replied easily. “Like I said, everything’s set for today. Stop worrying so much.”

Before I could respond, a familiar figure caught my eye—Viona pushing her way through the crowd. She looked concerned, and when she spotted us, she came running.

“We have a problem,” she said by way of greeting. “A big one.”

I felt my stomach drop. “What kind of problem?”

“The Silvermoon band just called,” she panted, her chest heaving. “They got into an accident on their tour bus on the way here. No one’s hurt too badly, but there were some injuries. They won’t be performing tonight.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stared at Noah, the world tilting ever so slightly beneath my feet. And to think he was literally just assuring me that everything was fine. The irony.

“What?” I breathed. “But… but the dual performance was supposed to represent our packs coming together. The Council is expecting it.”

As if on cue, a ripple of murmurs spread from the direction of the Council members. I glanced over just in time to see several of them checking their watches, mild impatience written across their faces.

My heart hammered in my chest. They were watching us closely, every move, every decision. And now we had to deal with this?

“We need to think of something fast,” Noah muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Could we get the Nightcrest band to do a longer set? Maybe throw in a few extra songs?”

I shook my head, clenching my teeth. “It would defeat the whole purpose. This was supposed to show unity, not one pack taking over for the other.”

Suddenly, a quiet voice interrupted.

“Pardon my eavesdropping,” an elderly man said, leaning heavily on a carved wooden cane. “But I couldn’t help but overhear your predicament. I want you to know that I play the violin.”

I exchanged an uncertain glance with Noah. The man’s hands were gnarled and twisted, clearly riddled with arthritis, and I couldn’t help but wonder how he could possibly manage a performance in his condition.

“That’s very kind of you to offer,” I began, careful not to sound disrespectful, “but we were hoping for something more...”

“Upbeat?” the old man finished for me with a chortle. “I understand. But I assure you, Alpha Hannah, I may surprise you.”

Noah leaned closer, nudging me with his shoulder. “What do you think?” he whispered. “It’s not like we have many options left, do we?”

I bit my lip, weighing the options. The Council was growing more restless by the second, and the show was supposed to start soon. We didn’t exactly have time to be picky, and the thought of disappointing the Council made my stomach churn. Too much hinged on today to not at least try something.

“Okay,” I finally said with a nod. “What’s your name, sir?”

“Edward,” the man replied with a slight bow. “And I promise you won’t regret this.”

I hoped we wouldn’t.

…

As the moment for the performance approached, my nerves were strung too tight to even speak. I stood beside Noah at the forefront of the crowd, my heart pounding in my chest as we waited for the old man, Edward, to hobble out on stage.

And, Goddess, he was slow. Not that it was his fault, but… still.

The crowd had gathered, their voices a low murmur. I could see several people staring at Edward, with his ancient, weathered violin tucked under one arm as he shuffled toward the center of the stage.

Even some of the Council members wore expressions of mild amusement as they watched him make his way to the microphone with excruciating slowness, as if they were expecting this to be nothing more than a joke or some kind of quaint opening act.

Slowly, too slowly, Edward shuffled toward the microphone.

The crowd began to chuckle. A slow ripple at first, but then it grew.

“Hurry up, old man!” some teenager shouted from the back, causing more laughter to crop up. Nathan turned and shot daggers with his eyes at the kid, but he was nowhere to be seen amongst the enormous crowd.

“Oh, Goddess,” I muttered under my breath, rubbing my face with both hands. “What have we done?”

Nathan was silent beside me, watching with bated breath.

But then Edward lifted his violin to his shoulder, and everything changed.

The first note rang through the air with a clarity that took my breath away. The sound floated on the wind like a haunting melody, the strains slow and controlled.

The crowd fell silent.

I felt a lump rise in my throat as I watched Edward play, his gnarled fingers moving across the strings with ease. Before, his hands had looked twisted and arthritic, but now… It was as if the very act of playing had made him young again.

Behind him, right on cue, the Nightcrest band began to join in. The drums, the electric guitar, and the bass all melded perfectly with Edward’s violin, transforming the simple concerto into something that was indeed—

“He said he’d make it upbeat,” Noah chuckled beside me, his eyes fixed on the stage.

Upbeat. That was the word.

I glanced around at the crowd, taking it all in. Those who had once been laughing were now swaying to the music, smiles stretching across their faces.

As the music continued, the droves of Silvermoon and Nightcrest members began dancing together, their faces lit up with joy. Even the Council members were nodding along, small smiles tugging at the corners of their lips.

When the final note rang out, the silence that followed was immediately broken by a roar of applause. The crowd erupted like a volcano, cheering and clapping and hollering. Edward sketched a humble bow alongside the Nightcrest band, his smile wide as the crowd screamed for an encore.

“That was...” I trailed off, unable to find the words.

“Perfect,” Noah finished, wrapping an arm around me and tugging me close. “Absolutely perfect.”

But before we could truly celebrate, my gaze shifted to the Council members. They were rising from their seats, their expressions unreadable as they made their way toward us.

“I guess now is the time for our verdict,” Noah whispered.