Page 80 of A Sunwoven Ascent

Aurelia pointed a delicate finger in his direction. “You, however, seem acquainted with proper hygiene. You smell… divine. Pray tell, sir, what soap do you use?”

For one suspended heartbeat, silence held. Holden did not move. Even Kaldrek looked taken aback as he turned toward his friend. Then a knowing laugh broke from him, and he brought a broad hand down on Holden’s shoulder.

“Holden?” Cillian asked carefully.

“He’s fine,” Kaldrek replied in a smooth tone, though amusement flickered in his dark eyes. “I suspect the tunnels unsettled him more than he realized. Come. Let us take a walk.”

Kaldrek turned Holden gently by the shoulders and steered him away.

Odd.

You will explain to me what was so amusing about that, Evelyne sent down the bond.

A low chuckle brushed through her thoughts. Are all southern ladies this demanding, or only the one who belongs to me?

She fought the urge to roll her eyes, though warmth curled through her chest. Gods, she loved it when he played like this.

You’re welcome to investigate that soon enough, she answered sweetly. But kindly stop avoiding the question.

Another demand, he murmured, his voice dropping into that rough tone that made her pulse skip. You’re fortunate I’m not there to punish you for it.

Heat shot through her at the sound of it, sharp enough to steal her breath. She forced her expression neutral, very aware of her siblings walking beside her.

Stop that, she snapped back, clearing her throat.

Warm laughter echoed through the bond.

Aurelia blinked after them, plainly bewildered. “Have I offended him? Oh dear—is there something on my face?” She touched her cheek at once. “Do not tell me I look dreadful.”

“No, Aurelia,” Evelyne said, unable to hide her smile. “You look infuriatingly radiant, as ever. I believe he simply needs a moment.”

Aurelia frowned slightly. “Well, he did not respond in a particularly gentlemanly fashion.”

“I am relieved to see you are already quite yourself again, sister,” Cillian said with a huff.

An hour slipped by as Evelyne and Cillian filled Aurelia in on the broad shape of all she had missed: their brother’s possession by an ancient blood witch queen, the prophecy tangled around his fate, and the truth that all three of them carried wolf-shifter magic in their blood. Yet whenever the conversation turned toward Aurelia—toward the tunnels, or her own shifting—she gently turned it aside, steering their attention back to them. It was unlike her, and Evelyne could not shake the sense that beneath her composed recovery, something was being deliberately hidden.

Cillian, meanwhile, spoke with open joy about his newly awakened light magic and all the healing it might one day bring. Together, he and Evelyne skimmed the rest: her journey with Alaric to find him, the shadowed figures along the roads and borders, their capture by Ironwolf, the training, and the path that had led them to Vaelora. But they left out the blood, the deaths, and the truth of their father. Evelyne said nothing, either, of her mating bond with Kaldrek, though Aurelia’s glances suggested she was already on to them. An hour was enough for the outline, not the heart of it. The deeper truths—the grief, the confessions, the tears waiting behind their smiles—would have to come later.

For now, they held themselves together.

When it was time to move again, Evelyne rose and stepped away, needing a moment alone. Her thoughts kept returning to the same impossible truth: Aurelia had been taken by the Noskari, dragged into the dark, and left to suffer alone.

And still, somehow, she was here. Still Aurelia.

Chapter 37

“Alaric… are you quite certain this is the correct way?” Evelyne asked softly as the pack drew near the outskirts of Velenshire.

Alaric slowed and looked back at her. “You doubt it?” he asked. “Yes, of course it is. We grew up here. What troubles you?”

Evelyne hesitated. The question felt foolish once spoken. They were deep enough within the southern territories now that if anyone knew the proper road into Velenshire, it would be Alaric.

Still, something was not right.

The path stretched ahead, strewn with fallen leaves and loose stones. Soon the ground beneath their feet would give way to the familiar cobblestones of the city streets. She should have found comfort in that, in the thought that home lay only moments ahead. Instead, the air seemed to press against her.

There was a tension before them, as though an unseen barrier lingered on the road and urged them elsewhere. Every instinct pulled her slightly to the left.