There was nothing measured in his attack—only despair and blind rage. The Noskari grinned through it all, its twisted mouth stretching in amusement as if it relished the torment.
But Kaldrek didn’t stop.
He was the only one who could face such a monster alone.
The wolves descended, a violent wave of fur and snapping jaws, tearing into the chaos with savage purpose. Evelyne saw Alaric fighting his way to her, blade slicing through anything that came too close, reloading the pistol with every precious second he could steal.
And then, suddenly, the Noskari began to vanish. Their forms unraveled into black mist, twisting and curling away into the night like smoke fleeing the light.
The battle was over.
Silence fell. Evelyne crawled forward, knees sinking into the blood-soaked dirt. She barely felt it as her shaking fingers brushed the burned sigil seared into her father’s abdomen.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked. “I’m so sorry.” She rocked back and forth, her forehead pressing against his cooling skin. “I love you. I’m so sorry.”
She didn’t know how long she sat there, whispering apologies into the cold night. Time had lost all meaning. The world had shrunk to nothing but her father’s lifeless body and the hollow ache inside her chest.
She might have stayed there forever if not for the warmth that suddenly enveloped her. Strong, steady arms wrapped around her, pulling her in. She lifted her gaze and realized everyone had shifted back. Kaldrek’s grip tightened as he lifted her effortlessly, pressing her against his chest. She didn’t fight it. She couldn’t. And the moment his fingers tangled in her hair, his lips brushing a soft, lingering kiss against her forehead, the dam inside her shattered. She broke completely in his arms.
“We can’t leave him,” Evelyne sobbed into Kaldrek’s chest, her voice breaking. “We can’t—”
“I know,” he muttered, his arms tightening around her. “Shh. I know.” His voice was gentle, a lifeline in the frenzy. “We’ll move him, Evelyne. I promise.”
Kaldrek turned to the gathered warriors, his voice carrying through the night.
“Burn the Noskari. We will bury our loved ones.”
It had been the best night of her life, and the worst. A revel beneath the full moon, her birthday marked by festivity, Kaldrek’s confession, and the closeness they had finally allowed themselves. For one brief moment, everything had felt real, whole, and right. Then came the ruin. The blood. And her father’s heart being torn from his chest.
A wave of nausea surged through her.
“Put me down,” she demanded, and Kaldrek obeyed.
The moment her feet touched the ground, she doubled over, her stomach wrenching violently. The world blurred as bile and grief plunged through her in heaving waves. But he stayed kneeling beside her, rubbing slow, soft circles on her back. Heidara was there as well, wordlessly pulling her hair back as Evelyne emptied every last drop of ale and food onto the grass.
When it was over, she sagged, breath unsteady, staring at nothing.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?” Heidara said quietly.
There was no one like her. A true friend. And Kaldrek, whatever he was to her—she didn’t have a name for it yet—she was grateful he was here. But at this moment, all she wanted was to disappear.
“I’m going to pick you up now.” Kaldrek’s voice was calm, but firm. His arms slipped beneath her, lifting her carefully against his chest. Hecarried her past the lodges, but didn’t take her to her room. He took her to his.
Heidara followed without question; either she understood or didn’t care where Kaldrek took Evelyne, as long as she wasn’t left alone. Inside, she busied herself, drawing a hot bath while Evelyne stood motionless and numb. She felt almost nothing—only the sticky weight of blood clinging to her skin. Not her own. Theirs. The Noskari’s… and her father’s.
“I’ll take it from here, Heidara.”
Her friend gave a slight nod and left without a word. Evelyne knew she should thank her, but she had nothing left to give.
“Are you hurt?” Kaldrek asked, his voice edged with concern.
Aside from the shallow gash on her forearm where the Noskari had cut her, she was physically unscathed. But she could only imagine how she looked: bloodied, shaken, barely holding herself together. She couldn’t find her voice, so she simply shook her head.
Kaldrek nodded toward her boots. “May I?”
She could undress herself, but she couldn’t be alone right now. And he’d already seen her bare and vulnerable. So she nodded.
Carefully, he helped her out of her boots and then her bloodied clothes. She stepped into the bath, sinking into the steaming water, letting it scald away the night’s filth. Kaldrek stayed, kneeling by her side, his touch impossibly gentle as he washed the blood from her hair and face.
