Page 57 of A Sunwoven Ascent

“What in the seven hells is going on?”

Obren’s voice cracked through the night like a whip. He was already striding toward them, expression thunderous as he took in Beau’s unsteady stance and Alaric on his knees.

Obren’s gaze snapped back to Beau. “You,” he barked. “Get your drunk ass back to your tent before you disgrace your pack any further.”

Beau scoffed, but under Obren’s stare he backed away all the same, muttering curses as he went.

Alaric breathed slowly, waiting for the unease to pass.

Heidara was kneeling beside him now, one hand tight on his arm. “Hey. Hey—look at me.”

He raised his head. The world steadied just enough for her face to come into focus, concern written clearly in every line of it.

“You’re pale,” she said quietly. “Come on. You need to lie down.”

“I’m fine,” he tried to say, but the words rang hollow even to himself.

She didn’t argue. She simply helped him to his feet and guided him away from the lantern light, one hand firm at his back. Alaric glanced once—only once—toward the dark stretch of land that led south, before deciding he needed to sleep this night off.

Chapter 26

Evelyne packed away her supplies alongside the rest of the camp as the morning training session finally drew to a close, one far more heated than usual. Word of Beau’s stunt with Alaric the night before had spread quickly, settling over the grounds like a bruise no one wished to name. Thankfully, no blood had been spilled and Alaric seemed to have brushed the incident aside with practiced composure, as though it were an inconvenience rather than a warning.

Ravena had spoken on her son’s behalf, offering an apology so firm it left no room for debate, though it should have been Beau standing there to give it. No one expected much reflection from him in his current state, not while the sting of Heidara’s rejection still festered. If he could not find some way to move forward, Moonshade would have little choice but to change course entirely.

By morning, that much had been made plain. After a quiet exchange with Kaldrek, Coren confirmed that Beau would no longer be allowed anywhere near the Ironwolf pack. Evelyne suspected the order had come from Ravena herself. She had the look of a female who made decisions swiftly and expected them obeyed, leaving Coren to deliver the message while she turned her full attention to correcting her son.

Evelyne suppressed a laugh as Beau was sent trudging back toward his tent beneath a very public scolding, Ravena’s voice carrying across the training grounds for all to hear. After all, he had no business being there that morning.

Evelyne found herself wondering how a female came to lead a pack. Had the tattoo chosen Ravena as it had chosen Kaldrek? Or had her place grown from the mating bond she shared with Coren? Was she born into Moonshade, or had she forged her place there through years of loyalty and strength?

Evelyne knew she belonged to Kaldrek. Yet the question would not leave her.

Why had no Ironwolf ink ever claimed her, as it had the others? Why not Cillian? She had no answer. Only the deep, aching need to understand how belonging truly worked, how one was chosen, drawn in, and made part of the living body of a pack. Should Kaldrek’s acceptance not have been enough?

“You move well for a new wolf.”

Evelyne turned and found Ravena standing just behind her. She had not heard her approach, and had no sense of how long she had been there.

“I’m not quite sure what you mean by well,” Evelyne replied, offering a polite smile. “But thank you.”

“I mean you do not let your instincts overrun you. You temper them. I’ve watched you train.” A glimmer of appreciation touched her features. “You fight with control—and with purpose.” She paused, then added, “Kaldrek has spoken to me of his mate’s noble upbringing. Of how greatly you impress him. I’ll admit, I did not expect to believe him so readily. And yet… here I am, feeling compelled to see it for myself.”

Evelyne finished rolling a thick wool blanket before answering. “That’s very kind,” she said carefully. “Though I can’t claim to be half as capable as the others.”

“No,” Ravena agreed without unkindness. “You are not.” Then she tilted her head. “But you do stand apart.”

Evelyne blinked.

“An alpha learns to recognize potential,” Ravena continued. “And you possess it. You do not shy from fear. You meet it… especially when it threatens those you love.”

“Yes,” Evelyne said quietly, nodding.

Ravena studied her for a moment longer. “Though I am not your alpha, I can sense that you are unsettled. A little unmoored.”

Evelyne shook her head at once. “I’m happy,” she said. “With my mate. With my friends. I love the pack.”

Ravena’s expression shifted, less guarded now. “I did not say you were unhappy. I only mean you have not yet discovered the full shape of your calling. You will.” She hesitated, then added, “Your mate will always love you. He will protect you. But it is just as important that you learn to trust your own instincts—your wolf’s, not only his.”