(ALMIRA’S POV)
I knew something was off the moment I walked into the garden.
There were candles. Candles and flower petals and a blanket set out beneath the peach tree. The same tree where Asher and Hazel used to build their stick forts. Now it looked like a page out
Now it looked like a page out of some fairytale I’d never believed in. A small table stood nearby with food—warm, freshly cooked food—and two glasses of sparkling elderflower wine. And there, sitting under the tree with sleeves rolled up and a nervous smile on his lips, was Lysander.
“What… is all this?” I asked, raising a brow as I stopped at the edge of the scene.
Lysander stood, brushing off his pants, suddenly looking like the awkward boy next door and not the powerful Alpha of one of the most formidable packs in the
