Page 56 of A Sunwoven Ascent

Beau barked a laugh. “Maybe you should come with me.” His eyes dragged over her like a deliberate insult. “I could keep you a hell of a lot warmer than this fragile little joke of a man.”

Heidara surged to her feet.

Alaric moved before she could. He stepped into her path and turned fully toward her, not Beau, pressing a steady hand to her chest as though he could hold her there by touch alone.

“Wait,” he said quietly.

Her hands curled, ready for violence, but she listened.

“He is not worth it,” Alaric murmured. “Not your time. Not your strength. Not even your anger.”

He lifted his other hand and gently tipped up her chin until her eyes met his.

“Look at me,” he said in a gentle, but stern voice. “He has shown you exactly who he is. Do not reward him with your attention. He does not deserve it. Do you hear me?”

Heidara clenched her teeth, the strain visible in the tight set of her mouth. Her eyes shifted past him to Beau. After a long moment, she gave one tight nod.

“Good,” Alaric said softly. “Now breathe.”

Heidara drew in a slow breath through her nose and let it go in a long, shaking exhale.

Alaric turned just as Beau staggered forward again, his words slurring into something ugly and baiting. The male’s eyes were glassy, unfocused in the way only a drunk’s could be. “Look at you,” he sneered. “Hiding behind her now? Thought you nobles were supposed to be brave.”

Alaric didn’t rise to it. He only stepped forward, placing himself fully between them, calm on the surface even as his pulse began to sharpen.

“You’re embarrassing yourself,” he said.

That did it.

Beau lunged.

The strike was clumsy and slow. Alaric slipped easily aside as Beau’s fist cut through empty air.

“Shit—” Beau stumbled over the word, but the miss only fed his temper. He came at Alaric again, swinging harder, anger driving what little coordination he had left straight into the dirt.

Alaric moved to evade the second blow, but this time he misjudged. He twisted clear of Beau’s fist, only for his boot to slide on loose soil. He dropped hard to one knee, his palm hitting the ground to catch himself.

The impact knocked the breath from his lungs.

So did what came next.

The land shifted beneath his hand.

The sensation was so sudden and strange that he nearly tore his palm away. Something moved far below the surface, restless and aware, as though the land itself had turned toward him. As though it were reaching for him. Calling on him to listen.

Alaric drew in a quick breath as dizziness swept over him and the edges of his vision blurred.

For half a heartbeat, the camp disappeared. A high, ringing hush filled his ears, a thin sharp silence that swallowed every other sound. The air smelled of damp stone and something metallic, familiar enough to make his stomach tighten. Beneath it all, he felt pressure moving deep below the surface, spreading southward like roots searching for purchase.

Nausea twisted through him as the memory of the Noskari’s voice rose again, that ceaseless whisper threading through his mind.

South. Take the alpha south. Cannot fail.

Something was wrong. Sound dulled around him, and he tore his hands from the ground, bracing them hard against his knees.

“Alaric!” Heidara’s warped voice echoed, as though carried through water.

Beau stumbled again, readying another swing, but this time the movement drew attention.