Evelyne turned, lips parting slightly as she caught sight of her. Heidara had outdone herself. Dark lashes framed her green eyes, the smoky kohl expertly blended at the edges, making them appear almost otherworldly. A soft touch of rouge warmed her cheekbones, and her lips, painted a deep red, stood in striking contrast against her skin. She looked fierce. Beautiful.
Heidara grinned at her reaction, then stepped closer, raising something over Evelyne’s head before gently settling it in place. “For you,” she said softly.
A crown made of flowers.
The delicate white blossoms wove together, resting just above the small braids Heidara had threaded through Evelyne’s hair, the rest cascading down her back in loose, effortless curls.
Evelyne swallowed past the unexpected tightness in her throat. “When didyou—?”
“When I left you and Alaric in the market,” Heidara admitted with a smirk, adjusting the crown slightly. “I wanted to find something special. A proper gift for the birthday girl.” She stepped back to admire her work. “Oh, wait—just a touch of color on your lips.” Heidara leaned in, then let out a satisfied hum. “There. Now you look like the goddess of the moon herself.”
A light, unrestrained laugh slipped from Evelyne’s lips. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so entirely herself. Not the noblewoman paraded in silk and lace, forced to plaster on a smile and endure dull exchanges. No… tonight, she felt free. And perhaps, like a woman who might catch the eye of an alpha.
Heidara must have noticed the glint of mischief in her expression, because she raised a brow and grinned. “Oh, you are turning heads tonight.” Leaning in with a teasing whisper, she added, “Maybe even a certain brooding, insufferable one.”
Evelyne rolled her eyes, but couldn’t fight the warmth that spread through her.
“Come on.” Heidara tugged her hand. “The moon is high, and the ritual is about to begin.”
Evelyne exhaled, her heart thrumming with anticipation. She had spent weeks fighting to survive. Tonight, she would celebrate.
***
Evelyne had nearly forgotten how striking the men looked on ritual nights. Their bare chests and broad torsos were adorned with swirling paint, and their leather or loose-fitting pants hung low on their hips. The usual intensity in their expressions had softened into easy smiles, their tousled hair catching the firelight. It was beautiful—intoxicating, even. And if Heidara hadn’t been tugging her forward, Evelyne might have been content to linger at the edge, simply watching it all unfold.
A bright smile lit up Heidara’s face, glowing beneath the full moon’s light. Her golden hair fell loose around her shoulders, held back only by a leather band across her forehead with a small iron emblem at its center. Her darkened lashes and scarlet-colored lips added to the natural confidence she always seemed to carry. Evelyne couldn’t understand how someone like her hadn’t yet found a lover or mate.
“Come on!” Heidara urged, tugging at their linked arms with barely restrained excitement. “For once, Evelyne, just relax. Let go. Enjoy your night. Just one night.”
Evelyne exhaled and smiled. “Alright.”
As they moved through the crowd, past the women painting the warriors’ chests and the steady pulse of drums, Evelyne’s attention briefly landed on the Glaciermaw pack. They were still here, which meant she’d likely cross paths with Obren again. Not that she minded. Their banter had become something she looked forward to, though it never failed to put Kaldrek on edge.
Ahead, three men turned. Three sets of eyes flicked in her direction, but only one made her heart catch. Kaldrek. His gaze locked onto her the moment he saw her, and everything around them seemed to fall away. The noise, the firelight, and the crowd all blurred as his dark brown eyes fixed on her alone.
Heat prickled along her skin as he looked at her, his eyes dragging slowly down the length of her body before rising, just as slow, to meet her stare again. There was nothing subtle about it. His gaze was scorching, and something inside her coiled and pulled taut beneath it. She didn’t know what thoughts ran through his head, but holy hell, she could feel them.
Every part of her said this was a bad idea. And none of her cared.
Holden let out a low whistle. “Little viper, you look like something I might take a bite of tonight.”
Evelyne rolled her eyes, and Heidara groaned. “Holden, that’s disgusting. Don’t say things like that to her.”
Alaric chuckled beside them, shaking his head.
“You both look beautiful.”
“Well, obviously,” Heidara quipped, flipping her hair over her shoulder with exaggerated confidence.
Evelyne snorted, grateful for the lightness of the moment. But her eyes had already returned to Kaldrek, who was still watching her the same way he had days ago when his mouth had been on her jaw and throat. Damn him, she still wanted more.
“Happy birthday, Evelyne.” His voice was deep, and the sound rolled through her like embers catching fire.
“Thank you, Kaldrek.”
“Shit,” Holden cut in, “I forgot it was your birthday. Happy birthday!” Without warning, he threw his arms around her, lifting her clear off the ground in a crushing embrace.
Evelyne let out a startled laugh, breathless from the strength of it. And… was that a laugh from Kaldrek?
