Page 47 of A Sunwoven Ascent

“But I do not crave power the way she did. I have no hunger for darkness, and I never will.”

“I know,” Selene said without hesitation. “Your blood does not decide how you wield your magic. And you, Kaldrek, are not her.” She reached for the books and placed them in his hands. “If you choose to practice, begin small. Find something that feels pure, and draw only what you know you can release.”

“And my shifter nature?” he asked. “I am not built as witches are.”

“That is the risk,” Selene said plainly. “Your wolf may resist balance. Or it may anchor it. Cillian carries both, but not without strain, as you have seen.”

“Could you show him?” Evelyne interrupted. “Please. Just once. He needs to see what good his magic can do. And I need to know how to help if he falters.”

Selene studied her for a moment, then inclined her head. “Very well. Briefly.”

She knelt beside the hearth and dipped her fingers into the bowl of water. The room did not brighten. Nothing dramatic occurred. Instead, the surface of the water rippled, responding as though a heartbeat pulsed beneath it. A slow, steady rhythm spread outward from Selene’s touch.

“This is how it should feel,” Selene said in a gentle voice. “Not forced or taken.”

Kaldrek watched intently as the water rose no more than a breath above the bowl, then settled again, unchanged.

“Notice what it does not do,” Selene added. “It does not harm. It does not drain me. It answers because it trusts the restraint. It lets me guide it.”

She withdrew her hand, the water stilling at once.

“That,” she said, turning back to Kaldrek, “is where you must begin. Once you master the sources, you can begin spells.”

Evelyne stepped to Kaldrek’s side and laid a hand against his arm. He covered it at once, grounding himself in the comfort of her touch.

She turned her head to study him, taking in the careful calm he wore like armor. “Would you like to try?” she asked softly.

He hesitated only a moment before nodding.

Selene stepped aside and motioned toward the bowl. “Water is forgiving,” she said. “Begin there. Do not pull. Only listen.”

Kaldrek crouched beside the hearth and fixed his eyes on the water, his breathing slowing as he followed Selene’s instruction.

“I can feel it,” he murmured. “The thrum inside me is reaching outward.”

“Good,” Selene said. “Acknowledge it. Then listen.”

Kaldrek closed his eyes for a moment. The room fell quiet around him, broken only by the low crackle of the fire. When he opened them again, the water trembled. Barely. A small ripple moved across the surface, then faded.

That was all.

Kaldrek let out a breath and Selene smiled.

“That is a very good beginning.”

“It did not do much,” he said.

“It did exactly enough,” she replied. “You do not yet know what will answer you most readily. Water may not be your element. It may be stone. Wind. Earth. That will reveal itself in time.”

Evelyne turned to him, pride warming her chest as she squeezed his arm. “I’m proud of you,” she said.

He met her eyes, and something in his expression eased. “I’m sorry I did not tell you sooner. I did not want you to think I was keeping something from you.”

“I know,” she said. “And thank you for letting me see.”

Kaldrek straightened, though the gravity returned to his face almost at once. “Selene,” he murmured, “tell me something. Truly.” He paused. “How does one resist the pull of dark magic?”

Selene did not answer immediately. She only studied him with the same calm she had carried all evening.