Page 100 of A Sunwoven Ascent

As though the Ironwolf pack had already claimed him in all but name.

Alaric moved easily into place, offering Kaldrek a brief smile before his attention found Heidara, as it always seemed to do. At once, her entire manner relaxed, a visible joy rising in her that she made no effort to hide. Evelyne allowed herself a knowing smile before turning back to the newer wolves and calling for them to begin again. They obeyed without hesitation, and her attention soon returned to Zade.

He often stood at the front of Oathroot, with the others arranging themselves naturally around him, and yet there was no mark on his skin. No ink like that worn by Ironwolf, Glaciermaw, or Moonshade. Nothing to signal rank or bind them as a true pack. They were something else, something Evelyne could not quite name, and the thought carried her back to the night before, when both groups had gathered near the fire and low flames cast long shadows while conversation drifted between them.

It had been Wren who spoke first.

“We found each other,” he had said simply. “Only a few months ago, perhaps.”

Zade nodded beside him. “Most of us grew up in the western lands, in small family groups. Nothing like Ironwolf. We shifted, hunted, survived, but we were never part of a true pack.”

“Some families live that way,” Kaura added. “My parents always said blood and loyalty mattered more than markings.”

Wren gave a soft huff. “That did not stop us from wondering. Packs always looked at us differently. I suppose that is why we understood one another so quickly.” He gestured toward Kaura and Zade. “We all knew the same emptiness.”

Evelyne understood that more than she wished to admit. Her own story was different, of course. She had Kaldrek now, and through him, Ironwolf had given her a place to belong. Still, that old question of where she truly fit had never vanished entirely.

“As we grew older,” Kaura continued, “our families began finding one another. One by one. The same stories. The same emptiness.”

“It felt as though something had started drawing us together,” Zade said quietly. “Lately, we kept crossing paths.”

“So we stayed,” Wren said with a shrug. “Better to be a pack of nobodies than alone.”

“Oathroot,” Evelyne said, testing the name. “That name was your idea?”

Zade nodded. “It seemed fitting. We made an oath to stand together, no matter what.”

“And here we are,” Wren said, smiling as he hooked an arm around Zade’s shoulders.

“What is left of us,” Kaura added softly.

The fire crackled between them.

“The Noskari took many,” Zade said. “Most during an attack above ground, others in the tunnels before you found us.”

“I am so sorry for what you lost.”

Zade nodded in quiet thanks.

“We do not wish to be alone again,” Kaura said after a moment. “We know we are not Ironwolf, but you welcomed us without question. You saved us. You risked your life to see us free.”

Zade looked directly at Evelyne then. “That matters,” he said firmly.

For a moment, Evelyne said nothing. Then she cleared her throat and gave a small nod. “Oathroot. It is the perfect name.”

Now, Evelyne blinked, the memory dissolving as Heidara’s fist came toward her once more. She caught it swiftly, grounding herself again.

“Focus,” Heidara said gently.

Evelyne nodded, knowing her friend was right. Her mind had been wandering all morning. She tried to settle back into the rhythm of training, into the steady pattern of boots shifting and bodies meeting in practiced drills, when movement along the distant path caught her eye.

She stilled. “What in heaven’s name are they both doing here?” she murmured.

Along the narrow path from Shaw Manor, Aurelia and Cillian were making their way toward the orchard fields, their figures slowly emerging through the golden morning light. The sight pulled Evelyne wholly from the moment.

Aurelia looked exactly as she always had—beautiful, and somehow effortless. Her autumn day dress was simple by noble standards, but clearly chosen with care, its soft colors warming her complexion and bringing out the faint flush in her cheeks. Her hair was swept back beneath a light hat, the ribbons tied neatly beneath her chin.

And Cillian…