SERAPHINA’S POV
Lunch went better than I’d expected—shockingly so, actually.
Once the twins’ earlier chaos had settled, the atmosphere loosened.
My mother and Sarah engaged in a gentle, yet enthusiastic, discussion about garden herbs, while Devin, Maxwell, and Ethan exchanged polite small talk about pack politics.
Daniel, ever the little diplomat, tried his best to win the twins over—showing them how to fold napkins into wolf shapes and tossing in a playful imitation of a pup’s howl that drew a few reluctant smirks. I took it as a good sign.
By the time plates were cleared and the last of the pumpkin tarts disappeared, laughter had replaced the tension that had crept in with Maxwell and the twins’ arrival.
Maya stretched back in her chair, letting out a satisfied sigh. “That was divine, Mrs. L, thank you.”
Smile lines spread in the corners of my mother’s eyes as she smiled at Maya. “Thank you, dear. I’ll give your compliments to the chef.”
