Page 52 of A Sunwoven Ascent

Cillian had only grinned.

For once, Evelyne let herself believe that this road, difficult as it was, was shaping them all into something stronger. Kaldrek included.

He had taken to practicing his magic in short, stubborn bursts. The results remained small and unreliable, but Evelyne found herself absurdly proud of him for trying at all. Kaldrek was not a male built for patience, and it pleased her more than it should have to catch those brief flashes of irritation whenever a flame ignored him or the ground refused to answer.

“This is ridiculous,” he’d mutter, scowling at the soil as though it had personally betrayed him.

She would bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing and offer encouragement instead. Sometimes she practiced her dagger work nearby while he read, occasionally glancing over with the same expression he wore when prey slipped just out of reach.

“You’ve practiced for all of five minutes,” she told him once. “You may not see improvement for quite some time.”

A low grunt answered her, followed by the sharp thud of a book snapping shut. “These instructions are infuriatingly vague,” he growled. “I swear I can feel a blood vessel in my head threatening mutiny.”

She was mid-maneuver when he rose and stepped behind her, nudging her boot into position and adjusting her wrist with firm, practiced hands.

“You’re supposed to be practicing,” she said without looking at him. “Not helping me.”

“Then stop looking so teachable,” he replied. “And fix your stance.”

Evelyne rolled her eyes. She knew her form was correct. But she also knew he needed the distraction, so she let him guide her through a few new movements he hadn’t shown her before.

This, he murmured through the bond, this is what I’m meant to do. Not magic.

You can be meant for both, she answered gently. You are meant for both. It will come.

I’m meant to fight. To protect. To hunt for my pack. He paused briefly. And I’m meant to thoroughly distract you.

She smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You know that isn’t all you want. Your body is telling you there’s more—and it’s all right not to have mastered it yet.”

Just like I’m learning to be a wolf, she added softly down the bond. We can stumble through this together.

Kaldrek didn’t answer at first. Instead, he lifted her easily and held her close against his chest. She settled into his arms without thinking. His smile was wide, and it made her chest tighten.

You are the most beautiful person I have ever known, he said. And I am so proud to call you my mate. He pressed a kiss to the mark at her neck, lingering just long enough to make her breath hitch. It feels as though the universe knew exactly when I needed you, he went on, his mental voice roughened by memory. You came into my life when I was more lost than I knew how to bear. When I was afraid. Angry.

A quiet breath of laughter left him.

You know I did not need to visit you every day. Anyone could have checked on you. But I needed to see your face. I needed to know she had not touched you. That my mother’s darkness had not reached you too. I barely knew you then, and even so, the thought of her infecting you hurt more than it should have.

She swallowed. You came to see me each day? On purpose?

If only you knew the thoughts that sharp tongue inspired.

He kissed her again, one hand squeezing her just enough to make her laugh breathlessly.

I fucking love that defiant mouth of yours, he murmured.

Her body responded instantly, heat sparking between them like dry brush catching flame. She pressed closer, breathing him in, comforted and undone all at once by how deeply right it felt.

And she let the fire burn.

***

Alaric felt… calm.

After everything he had endured, the stillness of it was startling. His body was his own again. His thoughts came and went without obstruction. He was alive. Whole. And he owed that, more than he could ever repay, to Cillian.

Heidara had told him that it had nearly killed Cillian more than once. That he had pushed beyond reason, beyond safety, to pull Alaric back from the dark. She admitted, in a quieter voice, that when it had looked hopeless, she had begged Cillian to try again. And she told him, too, that she could not forgive herself for missing the signs, for mistaking the change in him as grief and trauma when it had been something far darker.