Page 18 of A Sunwoven Ascent

“Nor mine,” Evelyne said. “But I am told some things are worth waiting for.” She tipped her head and offered Heidara a small smile. “Until then, you may think of Beau as excellent practice in the art of rejection. You are becoming rather skilled at it.”

Heidara’s smile finally broke through. “That is the kindest insult anyone has ever given me.”

They went on together, lantern light flickering from the old lodges ahead, the moon climbing brighter above them, and the promise of ritual, dancing, and perhaps one or two troublesome males waiting in the clearing beyond.

First, she would check on Cillian and remind him that the moon ritual did not count as “wolf nonsense” and that he ought to attend at least once. But when she reached his door, it stood half-open, the room beyond empty.

“Cillian?” she called softly.

No answer. The bed was unmade, breakfast plate thrown to the side of the room. His boots were gone, and his cloak was missing.

Perhaps he simply wanted air, she told herself. A solitary walk. A quiet place to think where wolves, rituals, and full moons could not press in on him. He was entitled to that much. Still, there was no time to linger on it. Heidara would already be waiting.

True to her word, she had chosen Evelyne something “practical” for the evening, though her idea of practical still leaned heavily toward heart-stoppingly dramatic. Gone were the cropped skirts and tiny tops of warmer nights, replaced instead by sturdier leather. She had already laid everything out across the bed: a fitted leather vest that covered Evelyne’s stomach while clinging to her waist and ribs, bracers for her forearms, and low-slung leather trousers that somehow still managed to flatter her figure. Sandals were abandoned in favor of worn, comfortable boots, and dagger belts were soon buckled at their hips.

By now, Evelyne had finally mastered Heidara’s braiding techniques, though not without many failed attempts and a great deal of laughter. So they worked side by side before the small, warped mirror, weaving matching braided crowns around their heads and pinning the rest of their hair back to keep it clear of both faces and fangs.

Heidara settled her leather pendant against her forehead, the one she always wore on full-moon nights. Evelyne lifted her own, a gift from Heidara, and adjusted it until it rested just so, cool against her skin and strangely grounding.

She applied her cosmetics herself now, her hands steady as she lined her eyes and softened the effect with a faint glow at her cheekbones. For her lips, Aurelia’s voice rose at once in her mind. Just a blush of pink, Evelyne. And so she reached for a softer shade, leaving the deeper colors to Heidara.

The thought of her sister struck like a stone breaking still water.

Aurelia. Seraphine. Even her mother. Faces she had not seen in far too long, waiting, she prayed, somewhere in Caltheris. Guilt followed the thought as swiftly as shadow follows light. Guilt for smiling here, for laughing with Heidara, for allowing herself the smallest pleasure beneath the stars while her family’s fate remained unknown.

She was traveling home to them, she reminded herself. That had been the purpose all along: to make certain they were safe, to place herself between them and whatever still lurked in the dark. Even so, the guilt kept its hold on her, tightening each time joy found her for more than a heartbeat.

“Why the frown?” Heidara asked, catching Evelyne’s reflection as she pinned the last loose strand of hair into place. Everything about her seemed to fall effortlessly into order, reminding Evelyne of Aurelia. Only Aurelia belonged to silk gowns and polished halls, while Heidara seemed made of moonlight and leather. Still, both possessed the same grace.

Evelyne blinked and forced her mind back to the room, the mirror, the friend at her side. “Oh. I…” She swallowed lightly. “I was just thinking of my family back home.”

Heidara’s features relaxed. She didn’t rush to fill the silence with reassurances; instead, she simply looked at Evelyne in a way that said she understood too well what it meant to miss people who were not here.

“You miss your mother very much?”

Evelyne almost answered yes. She did fear for her mother. Yet what ached in her was larger than one person alone. It was home she missed.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Heidara said in a rush. “I should not presume. I never had a mother, not truly. She died bringing me into the world, and after my father passed, it was only Holden and me. I suppose I have always admired what mothers and daughters share, and so I thought—”

“I do miss her,” Evelyne said softly, cutting in before Heidara could work herself into guilt. “But I miss others too. There are many at home I love, and many I fear for.”

It was more than Heidara had ever said about her childhood. Evelyne had been curious, but she had never pried. She trusted Heidara to share such things in her own time. Still, a soft ache passed through her at the thought of Heidara as a bright, beautiful child growing up with no mother to call her own.

“Evelyne,” Heidara said gently, “joy isn’t a betrayal of what we’ve lost. It doesn’t erase the fear or the grief. It just proves they haven’t taken everything.” She held Evelyne’s gaze. “When the world is breaking, a single honest smile is not foolish. It is a reminder that you are still here.”

***

For a little while, Evelyne let herself dance, drink, and pretend the tightness in her chest was nothing. But before long, the unease rose too loudly to ignore. Laughter rang around her, drums carried on the night air, and torches burned warm against the dark, yet none of it quieted the prickling sense that something was wrong.

She refused to sink back into the terror that had once consumed her, the endless days when fear had governed every waking breath while Cillian was missing. Not again. Not when he was supposed to be only a few cottages away.

Kaldrek must have sensed the sudden sharpness in her thoughts, because he stepped beside her without a word, a steady shadow at her shoulder.

“I just need to see him,” she murmured, more to herself than to Kaldrek. “I need to know he’s all right.”

“Then we’ll find him,” Kaldrek said without hesitation.

They moved through the gathering together, weaving between members of Moonshade and Glaciermaw, searching every face they passed. Evelyne stopped each wolf she knew, asking after Cillian, but every answer was the same. No one had seen him.