Page 49 of A Sunwoven Ascent

The name cut through the haze like a blade.

Heidara.

Alaric dug his hands deeper into the ground and felt that steady, familiar pulse answer beneath his palms, the same deep thrum he had experienced not too long ago. The darkness recoiled from the force moving through him, shrinking from it like something cornered, and he did not hesitate. He seized hold of himself all at once, mind and body and will, and drove the last of the shadow out.

Heat lashed up his spine and burst through his skull. His body arched as the final trace of corruption tore free, and then he dropped back into the grass, shaking violently. The impact rocked him so hard it felt as though the ground itself had shuddered beneath him, though perhaps that trembling belonged to him alone.

Then—

The voice was gone, and Alaric could do nothing but lie there in stunned silence, his breath finally coming easy. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

Cillian hovered over him, one hand braced against the ground, the other pressed to Alaric’s chest, steadying them both. His face was pale with exhaustion, but his eyes were bright with something like awe.

Alaric swallowed hard against the pain in his throat and managed to rasp, “It’s gone, Duskwood.”

Relief broke around him in sobs, tangled with joy and disbelief, and this time his smile was free of fear. He was still here. Still himself.

And the darkness was gone.

Part Two

What Lies Beneath

Chapter 23

Garek’s tavern in Cindermoor had never felt more alive. The room thrummed with wolves, with low laughter, the scrape of boots across the floor, the solid knock of mugs against wood. The packs were gathered in one rare moment when no one stood braced for disaster, when shoulders had loosened at last and voices could rise without fear of what might come crashing through the door.

Evelyne stood near the hearth with Heidara, the fire’s warmth chasing the last of the chill from her bones. At last, she had allowed herself to believe they all deserved a night like this.

Alaric was resting in the lodge near the market, finally beginning to heal. Cillian had chosen to stay with him, unwilling to leave for long. Before coming here, Evelyne had taken both their hands, Alaric’s warm and steady now, Cillian’s still faintly trembling with exhaustion, and given them each a gentle squeeze.

I’ll be back, she had said, meaning far more than the words alone.

Now she watched the tavern fill around her. Ironwolf. Moonshade. Glaciermaw. Different scents, different ways of carrying themselves, and yet for tonight they shared the same room without strain. The tavern hummed with conversation, the creak of chairs and crackle of the fire filling the room, loud enough to feel alive but not so loud that the words between them were lost.

At the long table near the center of the room, the alphas had gathered. Kaldrek sat with an ease that disguised the weight he carried, one arm slung along the back of his chair, his eyes still keen even as some of the tension left his shoulders. Ravena lounged opposite him, while Obren sat at her side, laughing his way through a story Evelyne suspected had grown grander in the telling. She stood close enough that their voices reached her between bursts of tavern noise, and though she caught only fragments, they were enough to matter. The rest, she hoped, she might glean through the quiet pull of her mating bond.

“The Noskari have gone quiet,” Obren said, his voice carrying clearly for a moment. “But they are not gone.”

“They’ve weakened,” Ravena replied. “Vaelora’s death must have fractured whatever held them together.”

“That does not make them harmless,” Kaldrek said calmly. “They are waiting for something.”

“And they want us to know they’re still there,” Holden added from farther down the table, having most likely inserted himself into the discussion without invitation. “They’ve been leaving marks.”

“So,” Obren said, lifting his mug, “east, west, or straight south?”

“The southern territories may hold answers about the blood magic,” Ravena said. “But I doubt we will find any other packs there.”

“We have not searched the east fully,” Holden said. “There may be packs there as well, and if the Noskari regroup, we will need every ally we can find.”

“Perhaps,” Obren said, “but the west holds packs we know are real. Moonshade found them, yes? No offense, pup.”

Holden gave him a thin smile. “None taken.”

“That is true,” Ravena said. “Though they may have scattered by now. Most in the west prefer to stay hidden, which is precisely why we went there. I cannot say whether they would help.”

“It is worth finding out,” Obren said.