Page 20 of A Sunwoven Ascent

Alaric’s smile widened slowly, and he tightened his fingers. Cillian choked, gasping for the smallest scrap of breath. Something in Evelyne’s chest cracked. The urge to cry, to fight, to beg—all of it slammed against the frozen shell of her shock, trapped and useless.

I’ve warned the others, Kaldrek told her. They’re coming.

Evelyne swallowed hard and managed a tiny nod, as if that could anchor her to her own body again.

Alaric clicked his tongue. “Kaldrek,” he murmured, the name rolling out in a deep, velvet drawl. “The alpha. Yes… yes.”

It was as if he were testing the words, reminding himself what he was looking at. But Evelyne and Kaldrek both knew—this wasn’t truly Alaric.

His gaze slid to Evelyne, and the darkness behind his eyes felt invasive, like it could see through her skin, through her fear, and into the soft places she kept hidden. Her throat tightened in answer, instinctively mirroring Cillian’s struggle.

“The one who betrayed our queen,” Alaric said, almost conversationally.

Kaldrek’s jaw flexed. “I don’t know what you mean by betrayal,” he said, voice still even. “I ridded the world of a monster, and the witch got what she deserved.” His eyes narrowed. “But I do know this… If you don’t take your hand off his throat—now—I’ll take mine around yours.”

The threat snapped Evelyne back into herself like a whip crack.

No, you won’t, she shouted down the bond, raw with panic. You can’t.

Because even if Kaldrek’s purpose was to protect her and Cillian, Alaric still had to be saved. Not ended. Not by her mate’s hands.

I won’t be sorry for what I’d do to protect you, he answered through the bond. That instinct isn’t something I choose. It’s what I am.

She believed him, because the same feral certainty lived in her chest. The urge to end anything that reached for the one she was tied to. It felt like survival, like law.

She shut her eyes, forcing herself to look beyond the threat. Because it was Alaric she needed to protect as well. And right now, no one—not even fate—was fighting for him.

Kaldrek’s snarl rolled through the air like low thunder, a warning that he was done waiting. He held himself back only because Alaric still had Cillian by the throat.

Cillian’s arms drooped, slack and heavy, as though the struggle had been squeezed out of him. Evelyne’s breath caught as panic rose hot in her chest, her heart battering at her ribs. The overwhelming fear for her brother’s life, the brutal truth of what Alaric had become, the terrible possibility that her mate was about to destroy him—it was going to crush her.

“Kaldrek.” She spoke his name aloud, and he twitched, turning just enough to acknowledge her.

“Kaldrekkk.” Alaric dragged out his name and clicked his tongue. “A waste of her power and a waste of strength. Let us teach you to wield the magic you were meant to hold. The power that runs within your veins. All you need is to tap into the right source and you’ll—”

“Release your grip on his throat,” Kaldrek said, the promise of death rumbling through him, ignoring the taunt of whatever demon played inside Alaric’s mind.

“What is this?” Heidara shouted as she ran toward them, wide-eyed. “Alaric,” she said, her voice turning firm. “What are you doing? Let him go. He is your friend.” Then she saw his eyes, and the words died in a gasp.

Alaric’s gaze bored into her, but Heidara didn’t seem to falter. She took another daring step closer, but this time Evelyne threw out a hand to stop her from advancing. Her friend stopped, but never took her heartbroken eyes off Alaric.

“Alaric, please. Don’t hurt him. This isn’t you. Don’t let the rot eat your kind soul.” Heidara’s voice broke.

“Stupid girl,” Alaric hissed.

His fingers slipped from Cillian’s throat. Cillian sucked in a ragged, tearing breath and collapsed to the ground, coughing as if the air itself had turned sharp. And then Alaric dissolved—his body unraveling into a smear of dark mist that poured into the night.

A chill swept through the clearing, cold as blood magic. Evelyne shivered, though she couldn’t tell if it was the darkness or the terror of what Alaric had become. Her instincts screamed at her to run to Cillian, to drag her brother away. Yet she stayed frozen, eyes locked on the drifting shadow.

Not yet. Not while Alaric could strike again from anywhere.

Gods… how had they not known he was this far gone?

“Where is he?” Holden asked, moving in beside Heidara. The rest of the pack closed in as well, bodies low and ready, while far behind them the drums and laughter still carried on, oblivious to the truth unfolding here.

No one answered. Every gaze turned to Kaldrek.

Evelyne found herself looking to him too, desperation building with every second that passed. His pupils were blown wide as he tilted his head, listening—not to the music, but to something foul moving through the dark.