Page 96 of A Sunwoven Ascent

Their mother sat in silence for a moment, studying each of them carefully. “You can all transform?” she whispered.

“Yes,” Evelyne replied.

Lady Celeste let out a slow breath, not in disbelief but in acceptance.

“You three are my entire world,” she said softly. “Every ounce of joy I have ever known. Your father and I believed we were protecting you by keeping certain truths from you. I see now that silence was not always kindness.” She lifted her gaze again. “For that… I am sorry.”

The apology stunned them into silence. Lady Celeste had never apologized before.

“I felt the moment your father died,” she continued. “The instant he rode out that night, I knew he would not return. But he went for his children. For that, I will not curse his memory.”

Tears now ran freely down every face at the table. Slowly, their hands found one another across the polished wood.

“I do not believe my heart is ready to hear the details of Aron’s death,” Lady Celeste said, her voice gentle. “But you must tell me everything else. Help me understand what you have endured.”

Aurelia’s quiet sob nearly broke Evelyne’s composure.

But the truth had to be spoken.

And so Evelyne told them everything.

She spoke of death and corruption, of the terror they had witnessed beyond the southern territories, of Vaelora and blood magic, and of the darkness that had nearly consumed them all. She spoke until her throat felt raw and her chest hollow. At last she reached the part she had quietly dreaded—the end of her betrothal to Alaric.

It was there that her mother finally lost her composure.

“That,” Lady Celeste declared, setting her teacup upon its saucer with more force than elegance required, “is where I must object, Evelyne. Mr. Stonebridge is a most respectable man and you yourself just spoke at length of his loyalty throughout the search for Cillian. He has defended you more than once, fought for your survival, and remained steadfast in the most dreadful of circumstances.”

Her mother paused to release a long exhale.

“He is handsome, well-positioned, and exceedingly wealthy. How, precisely, do you justify casting aside such a match over what amounts to a trifling secret regarding an arrangement he failed to disclose? Was this truly about that unfortunate kiss with Callista? Because if it eases your mind, I have already persuaded Lady Bavrick to see that Miss Evermere is properly courted by Wesley. The matter has been settled. She will trouble you no longer.”

“Mother, no,” Evelyne said. “Callista has nothing to do with it. Alaric and I have simply agreed that we are better suited as friends. And we are both content with that.”

“Oh, Evelyne,” Lady Celeste sighed, pressing her fingers to her temple as though the explanation alone exhausted her. “Have you learned nothing? Women do not simply choose whom they will love. Nor whom they will build a life with. You and Alaric possessed every advantage required to form a strong and stable marriage. He is, by all accounts, a very good man.”

“He is,” Evelyne agreed and swallowed. “But he is not the man for me. And I am no longer merely a woman bound by the expectations you once set for me.”

Her mother’s expression hardened. “And who, pray tell, could possibly replace him?” she demanded. “Do not even consider pointing to the man waiting outside this room. I have observed the manner in which you look at him, and I assure you it will end immediately. Such nonsense will not be permitted.”

Evelyne laughed despite herself. “That is not a matter you possess any control over,” she replied. “In truth, I scarcely had control over it myself. I fell for that male whether I wished to or not.”

“He is undeniably handsome,” Lady Celeste conceded stiffly, “but he is not nobility and does not belong in these southern lands.”

“Neither do I,” Evelyne said, the truth of it bare between them.

“This is your home.”

“He is my home,” Evelyne answered. “He is the one I love. And he is the male I have chosen as my mate.”

Lady Celeste’s blinked, her composure faltering.

“Your… mate?”

Without hesitation, Evelyne tugged at the collar of her dress and revealed the mark at the base of her throat.

Aurelia gasped, covering her mouth. “Heavens—what is that?”

“He marked me,” Evelyne replied. “And I marked him. It is a mating bond. It cannot be undone. It is not merely love or marriage—it is something far deeper. A bond of body and soul.”