Aimee smiled politely at Elann speaking of her dreams and wishes as a little girl. She couldn’t exactly relate to what the Benshira dreamed of, yet was glad that some form of her dream would be attained thanks to their mother. What the wolf suggested was still an inkling, she didn’t know if the party was being prepared for sure, she knew her mother though; Isabella would move mountains for her children. Elann was a child by extension of Noah and was now under the same protective umbrella. Even if the other siblings didn’t exactly like her they would protect her fiercely because she was Noah’s wife and would do a great deal for her because they would be doing Noah a favor as well.

Noah was steadily sucking on his candies as they dwindled away in his mouth. He had retook the candies Elann took from him, minus the one she ate, and rolled them around his in palm with the tips of his fingers, listening as Elann and Aimee talked. He met his bondmate’s gaze when she looked at him, pointing out the parts of the celebration he would be thankful to be missing. He nodded in agreement. When he did live in Zeltiva he may have enjoyed the large extravagant party as a bystander and participant. He disliked being the center of everyone’s attention vehemently, all except Elann and those close to him.

He eyed the candy Elann played on her lips, taking it as the taunt it may have been intended to be. Noah cursed his wound all the more, knowing he would’ve been able to put up more of a fight to keep the candies away from her if he wasn’t injured. The sharp pain in his side was the only reason she got her victory, and if he was going to be particularly mean he could’ve tossed them all into his mouth greedily. It wasn’t above him.

“He hates being sung to for his birthday too,” Aimee pointed out, laughing. “He used to try and hide under the table when we would start and would turn beet red. It was the funniest thing, even when he was older too and supposedly full grown.”

Noah scoffed as Aimee continued to giggle at the memory. “I don’t like it,” he whined. “It’s weird. It’s like a cult chanting or something.”

He was turning red there, his cheeks tinging in the rosy hue as his hands crept up to touch the heat in his face. He felt several degrees hotter than he already was as he recalled the memories himself.