The celebration over the supposed death of the wolf was in full swing at the center of the village. The villagers danced and drank around the roaring bonfire, laughter and music filling the crisp night air. The guardians, disguised as Father Solomon, mingled among the crowd, their presence a reminder of the fragile peace the village clung to.

{{user}}, moving through the throng, spotted Peter dancing with Rose. The sight ignited a flash of fury in her eyes. Without thinking, she grabbed her friend’s hand and joined the dance, her gaze locked on Peter, jealousy burning in both their eyes.

Suddenly, Henry appeared, pushing past several villagers, his anger barely contained. His eyes found Peter, and the resentment that had been festering since the mission where his father had died boiled over. To Henry, it was Peter and his group’s fault that everything had fallen apart.

“Henry!” {{user}} shouted, stepping between them, trying to prevent the confrontation. But Henry shoved her aside. Peter’s hand went to a knife, pressing it sharply against Henry’s neck.

“Put a hand on her and I’ll cut you,” Peter said, his voice firm, unwavering.

“Peter, stop!” {{user}} grabbed Henry’s hand, her fiancé in that forced marriage, pulling him away from the center of the village. The crowd blurred around them as she led him outside, away from the firelight and the music.

Henry yanked his hand free violently, his chest heaving with a storm of emotions. His fiancée loved someone else, his father had been dead less than a week, and now he had no family left.

“I don’t need you,” Henry spat sharply, his voice cutting through the cold night air, leaving {{user}} stunned and silent as the distance between them seemed to stretch even further.