---- Chapter 15 Three months passed. Life in the village was peaceful and simple. The small garden in front of the cabin was now full of herbs I'd planted myself, and Orion's room was adorned with charms I'd made. Every day followed a similar rhythm - caring for Orion, helping Rhea gather herbs, telling stories to the village children at night. No pack politics, no Alpha responsibilities, no fear. It was an almost perfect life. Almost. "He's having that dream again," Rhea said softly one morning, noticing my tired expression. " About Kaelen?" I nodded, gently rocking Orion in my arms. ''He's been calling for his father in his dreams more and more often. The blood connection is too strong." ---- "Three months and no word," Rhea sighed. "My contacts can't find any trace of Kaelen or Lyra either." No news could be good news - that's what I kept telling myself. But deep down, I knew it wasn't true. If Kaelen were alive, he would have found a way to send a message. His silence meant one of two things: either he couldn't contact us, or... I didn't want to think about that possibility. "Today is the New Moon Festival,"' Rhea interrupted my thoughts. "The village will be lively. Maybe you should take Orion out for a walk, let him experience the festival atmosphere." Thesitated. "Is it safe?" "This is a neutral zone; no one would start a conflict during the sacred New Moon Festival," she gently persuaded. ''Besides, a little wolf cub needs contact with his own kind, to build social connections." ---- Rhea was right. Though we lived in seclusion here, Orion was still a werewolf. He needed to learn about his traditions and culture. In the evening, I took Orion to the village square. The bonfire was already lit, and villagers in festive colorful clothes were singing and dancing to the beat of drums. Children chased each other, and elders shared aged wine. This was an inclusive village - humans and werewolves had lived peacefully together for centuries. There were no ranks, no Alpha-Omega boundaries, only equal respect. "Look, Orion," I pointed to the sky, "that's the new moon, a symbol of new beginnings." He gurgled happily, his little hand pointing to the sky, his eyes shining with excitement. At three months old, he was already developing faster than ordinary babies - a trait of his werewolf bloodline. "What a lovely child," an old woman came over,