The night before Drake and Ciri left for New Orleans felt strangely emotional.
Not because they couldn't come back.
Drake could open stable portals home now with minimal effort.
Distance barely mattered anymore.
But somehow—
This still felt important.
The beginning of something.
For the first time since awakening his true memories, Drake wasn't running from his past or fighting to survive it.
He was choosing a future.
And everyone in the pack seemed to understand that instinctively.
Which explained why Scott insisted on organizing a "normal goodbye dinner."
Unfortunately for Scott, nothing involving their lives qualified as normal anymore.
The loft became crowded fast.
Too crowded.
Stiles hung banners for absolutely no reason.
Jackson complained about the food while continuing to eat all of it.
Peter brought wine nobody trusted.
Derek looked exhausted before the evening even started.
And Lucifer had somehow returned specifically for the occasion carrying jazz records and expensive whiskey.
"Why are you here?" Drake asked immediately.
Lucifer looked deeply offended.
"My dear eldritch friend, this is a historic moment."
"You learned about it yesterday."
"And yet emotionally invested already."
Fair.
Ciri sat cross-legged on the couch watching the chaos with open amusement while Lydia helped organize food near the kitchen.
For once—
Everything felt warm.
Safe.
Alive.
Even the supernatural tension surrounding the group had softened lately.
No immediate threats.
No apocalypses.
Just people existing together.
Drake stood quietly near the windows for a moment observing everyone.
Scott laughing with Isaac.
Stiles aggressively explaining conspiracy theories to Ethan and Aiden.
Noah pretending not to enjoy himself while secretly taking pictures.
Death sitting silently beside the fireplace reading while somehow still participating socially.
Home.
Again that strange painful beautiful feeling.
Drake still wasn't fully used to it.
Ciri noticed him drifting emotionally almost immediately.
She always did.
She crossed the room quietly before nudging his shoulder lightly.
"You're brooding at your own party."
"I'm observing."
"You're emotionally observing."
Drake looked mildly attacked.
"That's not a thing."
"It absolutely is."
Lucifer appeared suddenly beside them holding wine glasses.
"I taught her that phrase."
"Of course you did," Drake muttered.
Lucifer handed him a glass before looking around the loft with surprising softness.
"You know…"
His voice lowered slightly.
"This is nice."
Scott overheard immediately.
"See? Pack dinners work."
Peter pointed across the room.
"Scott, Lucifer and Death are currently arguing about celestial warfare near your kitchen."
Death looked up calmly.
"He started it."
Lucifer spread his arms dramatically.
"I simply maintain Heaven lacks aesthetic."
"You started a rebellion."
"Semantics."
Stiles stared between them with absolute delight.
"This is the greatest night of my life."
Lydia looked genuinely concerned.
"That says worrying things about your standards."
Meanwhile Derek approached Drake quietly near the windows.
For several seconds he simply stood beside him silently.
Classic Derek communication style.
Then finally—
"You sure about this?"
Drake understood the real question immediately.
Not about New Orleans.
About leaving.
About moving forward.
About allowing himself happiness without waiting for disaster to ruin it.
"No," Drake admitted honestly.
Derek nodded once.
Respectful.
"Good."
Drake blinked.
"…Good?"
"If you weren't nervous," Derek answered flatly, "I'd assume you weren't taking it seriously."
Fair enough.
The conversation paused briefly.
Then Derek glanced toward Ciri across the room.
"She's good for you."
Drake followed his gaze instinctively.
Ciri laughed at something Lydia said before catching Drake watching her.
Immediate smile.
Warm enough to still catch him off guard somehow.
"…Yeah," Drake said softly.
"She is."
Derek looked vaguely smug about being right before walking away without another word.
Again.
Classic Derek behavior.
Later in the evening the emotional damage escalated unexpectedly when Noah handed Drake a small wooden box.
Drake looked suspicious immediately.
"…What is this?"
"A housewarming gift."
"We already have a house."
"Interdimensional housewarming gift then."
Stiles leaned over aggressively.
"I helped pick it."
"That explains why I'm afraid."
Inside the box rested an old keychain shaped like a wolf.
Simple.
Handmade.
Drake stared at it quietly.
Noah rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
"You kids save this town constantly."
His voice softened slightly.
"And whether you're here or not…"
He shrugged once.
"…you've still got a place with us."
Silence hit Drake harder than expected.
Because ancient cosmic predators weren't supposed to feel emotional over keychains.
Unfortunately—
Humanity had ruined his ability to remain detached.
Ciri gently touched his hand beside him.
Grounding again.
Always grounding.
Drake swallowed once before nodding quietly.
"…Thank you."
Stiles immediately pointed.
"OH MY GOD HE'S FEELING THINGS."
"I can still erase you."
"EMPTY THREATS."
The night continued softer afterward.
Music played quietly.
People relaxed.
Even Peter behaved for almost twenty consecutive minutes.
A personal record.
At some point Scott pulled Drake aside near the balcony.
The True Alpha looked unusually serious.
"You know you don't have to protect everyone all the time anymore, right?"
Drake blinked slightly.
"…What?"
Scott leaned against the railing thoughtfully.
"You finally get to live your own life."
Simple statement.
But it landed heavily.
Because Scott was right.
For so long Drake defined himself entirely through responsibility.
Protecting.
Watching.
Carrying impossible weight silently.
But now?
Now there was room for more than survival.
Drake looked back toward the loft.
Toward laughter and warmth and people who somehow became family.
Then toward Ciri.
She sat on the arm of the couch arguing with Lucifer while Death looked vaguely disappointed in both of them.
Beautiful.
Chaotic.
Alive.
"…I'm trying," Drake admitted quietly.
Scott smiled slightly.
"I know."
Near midnight the gathering finally started winding down.
People left slowly.
Reluctantly.
Like everyone understood this moment mattered somehow.
One by one the loft emptied.
Until eventually only Drake and Ciri remained outside beneath the stars.
Quiet settled around the preserve softly.
The air felt colder now.
Still.
Ciri stepped beside him while dimensional energy flickered faintly around his hands instinctively.
Ready.
The portal waited just beneath reality.
He could feel New Orleans calling already.
Ancient magic.
Old blood.
A new beginning.
"You're thinking too loudly again," Ciri murmured gently.
Drake smiled faintly.
"…You always notice."
"I always will."
That answer settled somewhere deep inside him.
Comforting.
Dangerous.
Wonderful.
Drake looked toward the stars quietly.
"You know what scares me?"
Ciri tilted her head slightly.
"What?"
He hesitated.
Not because he feared the answer.
Because admitting it made it real.
"That I finally have something to lose."
Ciri stared at him softly for several seconds.
Then stepped closer until their foreheads touched lightly.
"You had that already."
Drake blinked slightly.
"You just finally stopped pretending otherwise."
The truth of it hit immediately.
Painfully.
Beautifully.
Because somewhere along the way—
Without noticing—
This life became precious to him.
Not because of power.
Or destiny.
But because of people.
Because of her.
Warm jazz music drifted faintly through the dimensional veil as Drake finally opened the portal fully.
Golden light spilled across the forest around them.
New Orleans waited on the other side.
Another world.
Another story beginning.
Ciri smiled brightly beside him.
"So…"
Her eyes gleamed with excitement.
"Ready to go meet emotionally unstable immortal vampires?"
Drake laughed softly.
Real laughter.
Light.
Free.
Then he took her hand.
And together—
They stepped into the unknown.