FORTY-SEVEN | FIRESIDE

Lily

Clutching a wicker basket brimming with baked goods, Lily strolled home in the late afternoon sun. The trees came alive in the sunlight, their boughs gleaming, appearing to bend inwards in a series of arches, leading her to Elijah’s – to her – cabin.

And it was hers, now. She’d made it her own: Lily picked wildflowers and filled vases with them, until the entire cabin was teeming with seasonal flowers and foliage. She’d adorned the door with a handmade wreath, which she’d then made more of and sold at the market. The wreaths had been followed by pressings of dried flowers, framed in hand-carved wood, and suddenly Lily had found herself quite at home in the pine forests and meadows that made up the Sea Pine pack’s territory.

Her first month with Elijah, here, in his home, had been magical. She’d unravelled him, lying o