Page 168 of A Sunwoven Ascent

The world remained intact and those within it were protected. Lord and Lady Shaw had opened their lands without hesitation, offering refuge to any wolf who needed it. Their estate had become something larger than it had ever been before. Cillian, Lord Duskwood now, had done the same, extending that protection across Duskwood land. To anyone curious about the sudden number of newcomers, the explanation remained simple enough: they were merely guests given leave to camp during Velenshire’s favorite festival of the year.

The south had changed, but it had not fallen. Evelyne looked out over the market one last time, taking it all in—the laughter, the color, the life that had returned despite everything.

They had lost.

They had broken.

They had nearly been destroyed.

And still—

They stood.

Chapter 68

The sitting room was quiet in a way Holden had never quite grown used to. There was no wind tearing through trees, no distant howls, no restless shifting of bodies preparing for a hunt. Only stillness. The kind that belonged to houses like this, where everything had its place and nothing was meant to disturb it. He stood near the pianoforte with one hand resting on the polished wood, the other drifting over the keys without pressing them. His fingers traced their smooth edges as though trying to understand something he had never been taught to use.

Music. He had always heard it, but he had never understood it.

The faint creak of the staircase drew his attention upward. He did not mean to look, but he did, and then he could not look away. Aurelia descended slowly, one hand resting lightly along the railing, her movements so gentle she seemed to float rather than walk. The soft fabric of her gown followed each step, catching the light just enough to make his stomach flip.

Shit. There it was again.

That strange pulling sensation whenever he looked at her. Why had he been so desperate to see her again when they had only spoken briefly at the festival the night before? Was it because he could not stand the sharp little twist of jealousy that came whenever another gentleman smiled at her?

Not that any of those men stood a chance. Holden knew she needed someone who would not be frightened by that wildness in her. Someone who could meet it, draw it out, and remind her she did not have to keep every unruly part of herself locked away within these manor walls.

His heart beat harder than it ever had in battle, louder than any hunt, heavier than anything that had ever tried to kill him. He straightened without realizing it, his hand still resting near the keys as she reached the bottom step. The piano let out a violent, jarring chord.

“You are going to break it if you keep staring at me,” she said, though her mouth curved as she approached.

Holden huffed a quiet breath. “I wasn’t staring.”

“You were,” she said easily. “Rather obviously, I might add.”

“Can you blame me?”

Her brow lifted slightly, but she did not answer. Instead, she moved closer and brushed past him to the pianoforte, her fingers taking his place on the keys with a practiced familiarity.

“You have never played?”

He shook his head. “Closest I ever came to music was being told my mother used to sing.” His gaze dropped, his voice quieter now. “Lullabies, mostly. I do not remember much.”

Aurelia paused for a moment before pressing the keys lightly. A soft, simple melody filled the room. “You were very young,” she said. “It is not unusual.”

Holden watched her hands move, watched the way something in her relaxed as she played. “Teach me,” he said, settling beside her on the piano’s wooden bench.

She glanced at him. “You?”

“Why not?”

“You do not strike me as particularly patient.”

“I am full of surprises.”

She huffed a quiet laugh. “That, I do not doubt. Though, I suppose it would not hurt to have you try.” She shifted closer beside him and guided his hand toward the keys. “Start here.”

His fingers struck the keys harder than he meant them to. He blamed her scent for scattering every bit of focus he had.