Page 74 of A Sunwoven Ascent

Her head pounded violently. All she could make out were flashes of pale gray limbs tangled in black mist, veins pulsing like living cords beneath translucent skin, claws slashing, teeth snapping. The scent of rot and blood in the air.

“I said she is mine,” the creature holding her growled, voice vibrating against her spine. It squeezed tighter, her ribs protesting under the pressure.

Mine.

The word echoed in her skull. She was not theirs. She would never belong to them. The only one who claimed her was Kaldrek.

“Her blood is pure like the girl’s,” another rasped, circling. “You will share. We all will share.”

They descended on one another then, like animals fighting over meat. She was dropped roughly to the ground as the three Noskari collided in a storm of writhing shadow and snapping jaws. Black blood sprayed as mist thickened and swirled.

They were fighting over her. Over her blood.

She did not have time to make sense of it. The bloodroot restraints were no longer at her ankles, and she could feel her magic creeping slowly back into her limbs. This was her only chance. Pain still throbbed through her torn wrist and shoulder, but she forced herself upright and gave herself over to the shift she no longer feared, only wanted.

Bones cracked beneath her skin, her spine arched, muscle tore and reformed, and fur burst through blood-slick flesh as her scream twisted into a guttural snarl. Her wolf surged forward and took her body back. Claws lengthened. Fangs dropped. The air changed at once, sharper now, clearer, thick with the scent of prey and weakness.

She threw back her head and howled, not in fear or pain, but in warning, in command, in defiance.

Let Holden hear her. Let him know that this was his chance too.

She lunged, no longer afraid of what might happen to her, but ready to kill and fight for those who mattered.

Chapter 34

Alaric had never seen Kaldrek in such disarray. He didn’t fully understand what a mating bond could do to a wolf, but it clearly caused serious distress if the mate was in trouble. Kaldrek’s gaze was wild, pupils blown so wide his eyes could be black. Alaric was nervous too; he needed to find his friend. She could be dead right now, and it would absolutely destroy him, but he had to focus.

He had to find the underground entrance. It was their only way in, and he could feel he was close now. The opening could not be far from the trading post. More and more, he felt certain it had been placed there on purpose, near enough for the Noskari to strike quickly or drag back whatever they needed to keep their tunnels fed.

Most likely, humans.

The thought turned his stomach.

He did not understand why the land had begun to answer him, only that the connection was growing stronger. The wind seemed to speak. Water softened and stirred around him. The earth thrummed beneath his feet and sent something through him that felt less like strength than knowing. Not power in the usual sense, but instinct sharpened into certainty, a sense of what was right, what was wrong, where he was needed, and where he had to lead. He could not explain it to anyone, but he was going to use it to his advantage to help his friends.

Heidara refused to return to the pack, so Kaldrek left his strongest wolves behind to guard the others while the three of them continued the search. Cillian had begged to come too, eager to help find his sister and Holden, but he knew he was not ready for battle. He was not yet trained, and Alaric had little doubt Evelyne would kill him if he allowed her younger brother anywhere near the danger. So Cillian remained behind, helping Lorena care for the wounded.

“Anything?” Heidara asked as she watched him search the ground.

Alaric shook his head and moved toward a cluster of great trees, their trunks thick and their roots knotted above the soil like the backs of sleeping beasts. At first glance they seemed no different from the rest of the woodland, but as he drew nearer, the largest among them began to feel wrong. It was immense, its trunk so broad that three wolves might struggle to circle it, yet its canopy was far too thin. Its leaves hung dull and lifeless beside the vivid color of the surrounding trees. Moss clung unevenly to the bark, and dark sap had dried in narrow streaks along one side, nearly black. No birds perched in its branches. No insects stirred near its roots. Even the earth beneath it carried a faint metallic tang beneath the loam.

Alaric slowed and knelt, pressing his palm flat against the soil at the base of the tree. He closed his eyes. For a moment, there was only stillness. Then his brow furrowed.

“It’s hollow beneath,” he murmured.

Kaldrek stepped forward, his face set. “Hollow how?”

Alaric didn’t answer immediately. He shifted slightly, moving aside a dense tangle of brush and fallen limbs that had gathered unnaturally at the tree’s base. The debris had not simply fallen there—it had been placed, woven together with care. As he pulled it aside, a narrow seam revealed itself between two massive roots plunging deep into the earth. The dirt there was darker and disturbed.

He brushed away more dirt, exposing thick roots that disappeared into a vertical slit in the land. Twined around them were hardened strands of darkened bloodroot, braided tightly along the wood like veins frozen in place. The air that drifted up from the seam was cold, carrying the unmistakable scent of iron.

“They anchored it here,” Alaric murmured. “Its roots are tainted. The corruption runs through it and into the ground below.”

Kaldrek stared at the narrow opening between the roots.

“Open it,” he commanded.

***