Page 50 of A Sunwoven Ascent

Kaldrek set his mug down, the sound loud enough to draw attention even from across the room. “We stay together through the Sunmere Stretch. After Mokkvyrn, the packs divide.”

The table fell quiet.

“Moonshade goes east,” Ravena said at last.

“Glaciermaw will range west,” Obren said, glancing toward her. “We’ll find them, and we’ll make them help.”

Evelyne let out a slow breath and realized she had leaned closer without meaning to.

Choices were being set in place. The road was calling again, and Ironwolf would continue south. Nothing about it felt triumphant, only solid and inevitable. At last she drew back from the edge of the conversation and turned to Heidara. Kaldrek would tell her what mattered in full soon enough.

Heidara was already watching her over the rim of her mug, smiling as she took a slow sip of ale. “You had better start repeating whatever Kaldrek tells you,” she said.

“Well, obviously,” Evelyne replied. “Though I must warn you—it was dreadfully boring. You didn’t miss much. Alphas are remarkably stubborn creatures.”

Kaldrek must have heard her, because his head turned sharply in their direction and a grimace crossed his face. The talk at the alphas’ table was drawing to a close, and Obren had already wandered off. Now he leaned close to one of the Moonshade shifters, his hand resting with easy confidence at her waist while he said something low in her ear. The female’s hazel eyes brightened, and she covered her mouth as a soft laugh escaped her.

Some people, Evelyne thought, were simply born shameless.

At least his attention was no longer on her, or on needling the Ironwolf pack. In truth, he and Kaldrek had softened into something near camaraderie since Evelyne accepted the mating bond. Perhaps surviving so much together had dulled the old competition between them. Or perhaps Evelyne simply had to admit that Obren, and his pack, were far better company than she had once expected. Useful too. An added layer of protection, with a fair measure of entertainment woven in.

“He flirts like breathing,” Heidara muttered.

“Good,” Evelyne said with a grin. “I’d hate for him to lose that consistency. We could all use a little fun tonight.”

Heidara stared at her, jaw dropping. “I’m sorry—did I hear that correctly? Evelyne Duskwood, the noble southern lady who needs constant reminders to enjoy herself, is telling me we need fun?”

“Oh, hush,” Evelyne said lightly. “You’re rubbing off on me. And I miss seeing you playful.”

Heidara’s expression eased. “You’re right. I’ve been a bit of a downer lately.” She glanced around the tavern, then back at Evelyne. “But I suppose I have plenty of reasons to change that.” She clinked her mug against Evelyne’s still-full one. “Drink with me.”

They each took a few generous gulps just as a brooding presence drifted into their periphery.

Beau.

“For heaven’s sake,” Heidara murmured.

“I know you don’t want to speak with me,” Beau said quietly, “but I wanted to apologize. For everything.” His voice was stripped of bravado. “My jealousy went too far. I hurt you, and that was wrong.”

Heidara studied him for a long moment before nodding once. “Thank you for apologizing.”

He lingered, clearly hoping for more. Evelyne raised her brows at him, a silent suggestion to leave.

He did not take it.

“Heidara—”

“My heart is elsewhere now,” Heidara said calmly, cutting him off without cruelty. “It has been for some time. I don’t wish to return to what we were, so please—move on. We’re older now, and there are far more important things ahead of us.”

Beau swallowed, defeat plain in his eyes. “I understand.”

He left without another word.

Evelyne turned back to Heidara, smiling. “You know,” she said, “that was an exceptionally polite dismantling.”

Heidara snorted. “I learned from the best.”

***