An Invitation to Spar

FABIAN

The sun hung low in the sky, painting the entire Moonstone Pack territory in warm, golden hues as Vanessa and I made our way back to the celebration grounds. Her hair was still damp from our fountain fiasco, catching the light like burnished copper. Despite the lingering dampness of my clothes, I felt lighter than I had in years.

"I can't believe you got me to do that," I said, shaking my head.

Vanessa laughed, the sound carrying through the evening air. "I can't believe you actually did the cartwheel."

"Failed cartwheel," I corrected, but I couldn't keep the smile off my face.

We rejoined the festivities, where torches and string lights now illuminated the clearing. Pack members nodded respectfully as we passed, many still grinning about our performance. Vanessa's parents stood near the center of the gathering, their expressions warm as they caught sight of us.

"There they are!" her mother called. "Our star performers!"