Page 138 of A Sunwoven Ascent

Heidara did not flinch.

He continued, “I believe the land chose me. The air, the soil, the trees… They answer when I reach for them. I feel them.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping. “And when you touch me… something answers in return. As though you are part of it. Part of whatever this is.”

Heidara drew a slow breath, her hands still pressed to his chest.

“Tell me what you feel,” he murmured.

“I…” She hesitated, then shook her head.

“Do not think. Just feel.”

She closed her eyes. “When I touch you,” she said quietly, “I feel warmth and comfort, like something inside me finally settles.” She paused, searching for the right words, then opened her eyes once more. “It feels like being held. Like I am safe.”

Alaric stepped closer, his hands sliding gently along her arms. “And what else?” he asked softly.

Her breath trembled.

“I can feel your heart reaching for mine,” she whispered. “It’s steady… beautiful, like a rhythm pulling me toward calm, trying to steady me too.” Her brows drew together as she searched for the feeling. “And I…” She inhaled sharply. “The closer I am to you, the stronger it becomes. Like you’re holding a thread tied to me, gently drawing me closer to your…”

Her eyes fluttered shut as she breathed him in, then rested her head against his chest.

“Scent,” she finished softly.

He lowered his forehead to hers.

“But it is not overwhelming,” she continued, her voice quieter now. “I can feel whatever moves through you, Alaric. It feels as though it has been calling to me all along.” A soft laugh escaped her. “And it has been right before me this entire time.”

“That is all I needed to hear,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

She pulled back, studying him as understanding slowly settled across her face. “I believe it is a bond,” she said.

“Yes,” he replied softly. “Just not the kind wolves speak of.”

“No,” she agreed. “Something deeper. Woven together.”

“Like a bond of souls,” he said.

“And bodies,” she added, her voice barely above a breath.

He smiled.

“Then choose me, Heidara,” he murmured. “Not because fate demands it. Because you want to.”

Her answer was a kiss, carrying that same wild pull that had drawn him to her from the very beginning.

Alaric let go of whatever restraint he still held and drew her closer, deepening the kiss. He loved her—more fiercely than anything he had known before—and if what bound them was not like anything else, then so be it. Let it be theirs. Let it be something rare, something shaped by the quiet magic that threaded them together.

He had known she was his from the moment her green eyes met his in that tent, though he had not understood it then. He had not understood why he wanted to see her smile, or why the land guided him so unerringly toward her and this moment. Now he did.

He did not need every answer. He only needed to listen—to the land, to the wind, to whatever truth had always been there, waiting for him to accept it.

And she needed to feel it too.

Because his magic was different. And so was this love.

But it was no less real.

He drew her in again, his touch gentle but certain, as though he feared nothing except letting her slip away. When he pulled back, his forehead resting briefly against hers, there was no doubt left in him.