CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The jubilee pulsates around us, a living thing made of laughter and music. But here, in the shadows between the glow of strung-up fairy lights and the scent of pine, it's just Logan and me. His hand is warm in mine, rough with calluses that speak of battles I've never seen. It's a realness I cling to, as if touching him might anchor me in this whirlwind of emotions.
"Better out here, isn't it?" Logan's voice ripples through the chilly air, a note of calm amidst the chaos.
I nod, leaning back against the cool bark of an ancient oak. The tree feels like a sentinel at my back, its presence reassuring in the sea of unfamiliar human faces beyond our hidden nook. "It's like we're not even part of that world," I say, gesturing vaguely at the jubilee.
"Maybe we aren't." His b
