_Mira's POV_
The day before the Selene festival, everyone in the pack was busy. All around me, people moved quickly, setting up tables, arranging flowers, and hanging decorations. I was assigned to help with the white lilies. White was a symbol of purity, a tribute to the Moon Goddess. Every year, white filled the packhouse and the surrounding territory, a sign of the goddess’s grace.
I smiled as I placed the lilies along the windows and tables, their soft petals almost glowing in the sunlight. As I worked, I felt a calm settle over me. The flowers reminded me of home, of celebrations from years ago, and for a moment, I forgot my worries.
“Mira,” one of the other pack members called, handing me a garland of lilies, “this needs to go over the column by the front door. Could you help with
