At that, Heidara stepped closer and took Evelyne’s hand anyway, squeezing it lightly. “Holden is insufferable,” she admitted. “He’s powerful, irritatingly protective, and incapable of minding his own business when it comes to me, but beneath all that, he has a good heart. He’s also fiercely loyal to Kaldrek, like we all are. So if Kaldrek has decided you won’t be harmed, Holden has no choice but to obey.”
“Are you and Holden… together?”
“Oh, gods, no.” Heidara cringed. “Gross. He’s my brother.”
Evelyne’s jaw nearly hit the ground. Holden—the same man who had shifted into a monster before her very eyes, who had looked moments away from ripping out her throat—was Heidara’s brother?
But then she remembered how Heidara had stepped into the tent that night and stopped him with a single touch. She looked at Heidara again, and suddenly, it was apparent. The golden hair, the striking green eyes. It was a wonder she hadn’t pieced it together sooner.
“Hard to believe, I know. He’s an ass, and everyone likes me better.”
Evelyne huffed a laugh. “How old are you?”
“Nineteen. But Holden still treats me like a child, even though he’s only three years older.” She rolled her eyes, then shrugged. “I suppose it’s not the worst thing in the world, having someone watching out for you. Though I’d prefer someone a little more handsome. And not, you know, related to me.”
Evelyne found herself smiling. Aside from her sister, she had never really had close girlfriends before, but this felt easy. Nice.
“Don’t worry,” Heidara went on. “Holden won’t give you any trouble. Honestly, even the smallest hint of interest from you, and he’ll probably spend the whole night trying to prove himself.”
Evelyne scowled. “Not in this lifetime.”
Heidara laughed. “Unless, of course, you and—what was your handsome friend’s name again?” She tapped a finger to her chin, pretending to think.
“Alaric.”
“Right. Unless you and Alaric are already… acquainted in that fashion?” There was a teasing lilt to her voice, and her eyes were full of curiosity.
Evelyne sighed. “It’s complicated.”
Heidara hummed in response, then tugged her out into the night.
Chapter 28
The night sky sprawled endlessly above, the full moon’s silver glow peeking through the towering trees of Mokkvyrn Forest. A blazing pyre stood at the center, flames of gold crackling into the dark, their light dancing over the crowd of shifters.
Evelyne stood in quiet awe, taking in the scene before her. The entire pack had assembled—men, women, children, even the elders—all gathered in honor of the full moon. They perched upon tree stumps and large stones or crouched upon the earth like they were one with the land. The scent of burning firewood blended with the crisp spring breeze, carrying the sounds of the pack: laughter, hushed conversations, and the steady rhythm of drums.
Regardless of age, the men were bare-chested, their muscular forms painted in swirling patterns as women traced delicate, ancient symbols upon their broad shoulders and sculpted torsos.
Evelyne had never witnessed such a seamless blend of beauty and strength. The women were just as striking, some wearing the same leather headbands as she and Heidara, while others wove their long hair into thick braids, strands threaded with tiny wildflowers. Their cropped leather tops left their stomachs bare, and their slit skirts swayed fluidly with each graceful movement.
The drum beats grew louder, echoing like the very heartbeat of the forest. Men andwomen moved in hypnotic patterns around the fire, their bodies swaying, stepping, and twisting with fluidity. It was nothing like the stiff, choreographed ballroom dances Evelyne had been taught as a child. This was something entirely different. This was primal, unrestrained, and alive. Like a celebration of connection and life itself.
Her eyes drifted to a young couple, their hands on each other’s waists, hips rolling in time with the beat. The movement was intimate, sultry even, and Evelyne’s face warmed watching them. But as the drums changed rhythm, the pair parted, smoothly transitioning to new partners as if nothing had changed.
Before she could process it, a deep voice rumbled behind her.
“Dancing is a way we express ourselves here.”
Evelyne jolted, whipping around to find Kaldrek behind her, his towering frame looming over her.
Her breath caught at the sight of him up close. His dark brown hair was tousled, and his deep, earth-toned eyes gleamed like polished mahogany in the unsteady light of the flames. His bare chest was a solid wall of muscle, marked with the pack’s sacred ink. A massive wolf stretched along one side of his neck, its fierce form naturally woven into twisting tribal patterns that coiled down his shoulder and wrapped along his arm like living shadows.
She had to tilt her chin upward to meet his eyes. He was so damn tall.
He lifted a drinking horn to his lips, taking a slow gulp of the amber liquid inside. Evelyne watched the muscles in his throat move, his skin gleaming with a faint sheen of sweat from the fire’s heat.
He grinned as he lowered the horn. “Glad to see you haven’t tried to kill us yet.”
