Page 11 of A Sunwoven Ascent

“We are angry. But never at you,” Nathan added. “Understand this—we are healing. And we are thankful.”

The words struck something deep in Evelyne’s chest, leaving behind a dull ache that stung her eyes with tears. She looked at them then, at their strength, at the unshakable bond between them, and her heart swelled with admiration. They were more than friends, more than packmates. They were family.

After a few quiet heartbeats, Evelyne cleared her throat and broke the silence. “Who is the female standing beside Obren?” She tipped her head toward the group of pack leaders gathered in serious conversation while the others rested nearby.

“That’s Ravena,” Nathan answered. “Alpha of the Moonshade pack.”

Evelyne blinked. “A female alpha?”

In the south, in the human realm, men held every title and privilege. They were lords of estates, heads of families, hunters, traders, soldiers. Women were expected to be wives, mothers, ornaments of beauty, seated quietly in parlors and looking pretty while men governed the world. But here, in Centaro, females stood as equals.

“Oh yes,” Nathan went on, warmth and respect threading his voice. “She’s the strongest of them all. Truly one of the finest leaders I’ve ever known.” He gestured to the man beside her. “And next to her is Coren, her mate.”

“Another powerhouse in their ranks. And not someone you’d want as an enemy,” Reyna added.

Nathan chuckled softly in agreement. “We haven’t seen them in some time, but the Moonshade and Ironwolf packs have always been close allies.”

Evelyne studied Ravena more closely. She was tall and commanding, with long black hair trailing nearly to her waist and eyes lit with sharp, fiery intelligence. But beneath that strength lay something softer, something maternal, almost gentle, like tenderness stitched quietly into command.

A female alpha. Evelyne’s heart stirred with sudden wonder. How extraordinary.

“She’s respected by every pack in Centaro?” Cillian asked, tilting his head toward where Obren stood with Thorne. “Obren’s hand is on her shoulder like they’re more than passing acquaintances.”

“Obren has his soft spots,” Nathan admitted. “He was once in love with her daughter. After her death, he and Ravena grew close.”

Evelyne’s brows lifted. Obren—the shameless flirt who seemed to tumble into bed with anyone who caught his eye—had been in love? She recalled his earlier hints about losing people on the journey north. Beneath the swagger and rivalry with Kaldrek, there was grief. There was kindness. And loss.

“What happened to her?” Evelyne asked quietly, though some part of her already guessed.

“Darkness,” Reyna said flatly.

And that was all Evelyne needed to hear.

A low, familiar voice slipped through her thoughts. The Moonshade pack was seeking allies when our paths crossed. They are friends… though there is much to discuss.

The deep timbre of Kaldrek’s voice moved through her like honey, easing something tight within her. Even anger could not strip the comfort from it. It reminded her, as nothing else could, that she was his. She could bear his temper, so long as that bond remained unbroken.

Kaldrek. She hesitated. I am sorry… for upsetting you, she whispered across the bond, letting her remorse thread through every word.

A few long seconds passed, enough to set her nerves on edge, before his answer came at last.

I am not so easily wounded, Evelyne. But I forgive you. Then, with the faintest edge of rebuke: And you need not be so nervous. I would never—

I know, she cut in gently, sending a quiet warmth back through the bond. It is not you I fear, Kaldrek. I know you would never hurt me. It was the thought of hurting you, of disappointing my mate, that unsettled me.

Silence held for a beat before his voice returned, softer this time. I love you. And I am sorry as well. I did not give you the chance to explain. I will try to master my frustration better.

A smile touched her lips as warmth spread through her chest. Well then, she replied, lightening her tone, it seems I have a few new friends to meet.

Chapter 7

Fires dotted the clearing, each pack gathered close to their own. The camps were set, laughter and low voices carried on the night air, and every wolf seemed at ease. Evelyne, too, felt herself settle into the warmth of it. This—this was the life she had always craved. Freedom to run wild without reprimand. Freedom to drink ale without hearing it wasn’t “ladylike.” Freedom to love whom she chose, not who was chosen for her.

It was not that Alaric would have been a poor match; she had no doubt they might have fared well enough, content in the life laid out before them. Yet, in hindsight, she saw she would never have known true passion. Certainly nothing approaching what she felt for Kaldrek. She prayed Alaric would one day meet someone who inspired such devotion in him. He deserved that kind of happiness.

Heidara leaned against her on a smooth rock, the steady warmth of her weight resting at Evelyne’s side. Across the clearing, Holden and Kaldrek sat with Coren, trading stories. Coren spoke of the time Moonshade had spent hidden along Centaro’s western cliffs, where sea winds battered the stone and they waited out the spread of the Noskari. They had even considered crossing the sea into the western territories, but when word reached them of Vaelora’s fall, they emerged at last in search of survivors. Glaciermaw and Ironwolf had been the first packs they met on the road home.

That, at least, was what Evelyne gathered through Kaldrek’s translation, with her sharpened hearing filling in the rest. Frustration coiled in her chest. While the others had suffered under Vaelora, Moonshade had hidden in the west.