Everything around Brice faded away. The music, the laughter, the throng of people moving between them. For one second, there was only Keenastanding beneath the Christmas lights watching her.
Then Keena looked away.
A group of people crossed between them laughing and drinking their hot cider. When they passed, Keena was gone.
“Where’d she go?” Brice frowned. The woman was definitely avoiding her.
Alanis had insisted that Brice hadn’t done anything wrong and Nandi had backed that up with a certain confidence that made Brice want to believe her, but there had to be a reason why Keena had fled the bookstore like she’d been chased out of there.
Brice replayed everything from the bookstore over again in her head. The one thing she had forgotten was how Keena had sniffed the air around her when they stood close to one another.
Maybe Keena had scented something unpleasant. Maybe Brice’s lotion didn’t agree with the wolf’s nose. Maybe it was the sugar cookies, or the coffee…
Brice glanced around to make sure no one was watching. Then she discreetly lifted one arm and sniffed beneath it. Nothing. She smelled fine. Just like she always does. A little vanilla and her deodorant. She sniffed her scarf and it smelled of peppermint.She just couldn’t help but to check herself again.
A familiar scent floated through the air near her. Cedar. A cold night and something deeper underneath it that made her entire body go still. It made Brice think of Keena. Her eyes landed on the enforcer. Keena had moved behind the row of stalls and was speaking with the market volunteers near the lantern table.
Their eyes met again.
Brice froze. She was mortified that she had been caught ogling the woman. Did she know that Brice had been sniffing the wind to get the scent of her perfume or soaps?
The universe couldn’t be that cruel.
Keena’s expression didn’t change much, but something did flicker in her gaze. Brice did the only thing she could think to do.
She smiled and gave a little wave.
Keena stared at her, then someone called her name from beyond the lantern table. She turned away and disappeared into the crowd again.
“Smooth,” she muttered. “Really smooth. She probably thinks you’re crazy.”
A burst of cheers rose from the center of the square. The distraction would save her from anyfurther self-reflection. The Lantern Lighting was about to begin. She had looked forward to this all day.
The townspeople had been collecting small lanterns from a long table near town hall. Some were plain white while others had been painted by children. Volunteers moved through the crowd now helping light the battery candles inside each one. Couples stood shoulder to shoulder while friends gathered in clusters. Even shop owners stepped out from behind their booths to watch.
Brice leaned out from behind her table and was enchanted by the sight. She had heard about the Lantern Lighting from at least a dozen customers over the past week.
Everyone had described it differently. Some called it a town tradition and others said it belonged to the White Pine Pack first but passed down through generations before humans were invited to take part.
Alanis had shared with her that the lanterns represented remembrance, guidance, and hope during the darkest part of winter.
Brice liked the thought of honoring those who were gone from here.
Rue Biljon stepped onto the small platform infront of the town hall. She was tall and composed and her gray-streaked dark hair was pulled back away from her face. Even at a distance, the alpha carried herself with a quiet authority that commanded respect by all. The crowd settled almost at once.
“Evergreen Hollow," Rue called out. Her voice carried across the square. “Thank you for coming together tonight.”
A cheer rose up through the air.
Rue smiled. “Every year as winter deepens and the nights grow longer, we light these lanterns to remember that no one in this town walks through the dark alone.”
Brice’s chest warmed. Around the square, lanterns began to glow one by one. Children gasped while adults smiled. Snow fell softly through the light. Rue flipped on the light to her own lantern that had been waiting for her at her table.
“For those we love,” Rue said.
“For those we love,” The crowd answered, soft but united.
“For those we miss,” she guided them.
