Page 159 of A Sunwoven Ascent

Heidara’s gaze shifted to Evelyne. “Light.”

Evelyne whipped her head toward Cillian, the blood instantly draining from her face.

Holden’s stomach tightened. He couldn’t risk Cillian again. He had seen Kaldrek in the grove. He had seen the absence in his eyes, the cruel emptiness where his brother should have been. He would unleash every bit of his power and strength tonight, and Cillian could not withstand him. He was not ready. Not even close.

“No.” Holden’s answer was firm. “We’ll have to think of something else, but first, we need to move.”

It took less time than he expected to move them all. By late morning, all members of the Duskwood, Stonebridge, and Shaw households who knew the truth had gathered in Velenshire. The Shaw estate fields stretched beneath a washed-gray sky, still damp from the night before, the grass flattened by carts, boots, and wolf paws. Beyond them, the grove waited in ancient silence, the Solwyn Tree hidden deep within, while the covens assembled along its borders. Women in layered cloaks and dark dresses murmured over powders, soil, and glass bowls of water, gathering the elements they meant to wield. Charise Hallowell stood among them beside an older woman Holden assumed was her mother, both grave, focused, and far too calm for his liking.

Guards moved through the outer fields, checking weapons, reinforcing lines, and sending word back toward Velenshire proper. Holden repeated his orders twice more, making sure every last man understood.

“I don’t want a single human on those streets before dark,” he said, pointing toward the distant town. “Get them inside and keep them there. If anyone asks questions, lie better.”

A few men exchanged uneasy glances, but none challenged him. Once they dispersed, Holden crossed to Charise and the older witch.

“Can you cast a glamour over the streets?” he asked. “Something to steer people away if any idiot ignores orders?”

Charise looked to her mother before answering. The older woman’s face was deeply lined, but her eyes were sharp.

“We can,” she said. “Not as strong as what once covered the southern lands, but enough to disorient. Enough to buy time.”

Holden nodded. “Do it.”

The witches moved at once, gathering in tighter circles as their murmured chants threaded through the field like rising wind. For one brief moment, Holden let himself believe they might actually have a chance.

A howl cut across the fields, causing every head to turn. The sound came from the far edge of Shaw land, where cultivated ground gave way to rough grass and trees. Another howl followed, then another, until the voices rolled over the fields in layered warning. Holden’s hand dropped to the knife at his belt. Heidara was already moving, Evelyne beside her, and he broke into a run to intercept them before anyone else could react. The three of them crossed the wet grass together until shapes emerged through the low mist.

Wolves.

Many of them.

At their head stood Obren, larger than Holden remembered, his scarred muzzle raised as he took in the gathered forces. Beside him moved Ravena, the Moonshade alpha, her dark coat nearly black in the weak light. Behind them stretched not only Moonshade and Glaciermaw, but three more packs Holden did not recognize. Wolves of different sizes and colors, all carrying the same hardened look of creatures who had survived too much.

They had come back.

Relief struck Holden so hard he nearly laughed.

Instead, he barked, “Well, I’ll be damned. I honestly didn’t think you’d find that many wolves willing to follow you anywhere.”

Obren shifted first, returning to human form and shoving wet hair from his face. “Touching,” he said. “Good to see you too.”

Beau stepped forward. “We are here to help rid the land of these creatures for good.”

Ravena shifted next, rolling one shoulder as if she had run the entire distance without feeling it. “My pack did not stop once we heard what happened,” she said. “We were already searching for others when we crossed paths with Obren heading south. The rest joined along the way. Turns out the Noskari have been terrorizing more territory than any of us realized.”

Murmurs spread through the wolves behind them. One unfamiliar alpha, a broad-shouldered female with torn ears and pale fur, shifted and stepped forward.

“We lost six to them a few weeks ago,” she said. “If this is the night to end them, then we came for blood.”

Another pack leader, older and heavy with scars, gave a grim nod. “Mine as well.”

For a moment, something shifted. The air remained grim, but it steadied. Strength gathered where despair had been. They were not alone.

Obren glanced past Holden, his gaze searching the wolves gathered behind him. “Where’s the Ironwolf alpha?”

The question struck like a stone dropped into still water. Everything quieted. The brief warmth in Holden’s chest vanished. He held Obren’s stare for half a second before looking away across the field. “He’s…” His throat tightened, and he cleared it once. “Kaldrek made a choice without telling anyone. Now the Noskari have an anchor strong enough to make the rest of us very fucking sorry.”

Ravena’s eyes widened.