Noah's POV
By now, I should be used to being surrounded by chaos.
Still, the energy of the Melee always shocks me when it comes around month after month.
I duck out of the way as two Beta's carry a ladder past me through the kitchen to the backyard. The kitchen is full of Omega's as it always is during this time, calling over each other as they cook, voices rising and overlapping, arms full of trays and steaming pots. Mama stands at the helm of it all, shouting orders and stirring bubbling pans.
Someone shouts across the room, "Noah! Get those casks of mulled wine out back, will you?"
"Got it!" I shout back, though I'm already moving.
