Page 63 of A Sunwoven Ascent

Velenshire was different from everywhere else. He had not truly known it existed, had certainly never seen it, and yet it had once been his mother’s home before exile drove her from it. The thought of crossing into lands ruled by covens who despised his bloodline made something cold settle deep in his chest. If they recognized him, if they looked at his face and saw the woman they had cast out, what would follow? Would they feel her blood in him? Would they know what he was, and where he came from?

According to Evelyne, magic there had been hidden for generations. Centuries. The Solwyn Tree’s power kept secret from humans to preserve the fragile peace between the covens and the southern nobility. Magic concealed not only from mortals, but from other beings who might seek the sacred tree for themselves.

Perhaps the most powerful source of magic in the world.

Kaldrek did not trust hidden things. So he let Alaric take the lead as they skirted behind the trading outpost, careful to keep the pack from alarming the humans within its timber walls. Only seasoned tradesmen dared pass through the forest regularly, traveling from post to post all the way to Wrenford. And even then, according to Alaric, it was the same small rotation of disciplined men his father had hand-selected. Men who would report threats only if they endangered trade.

It was why Alaric had been sent in the first place.

The thought tightened Kaldrek’s jaw. A father dispatching his son into darkness and naming it duty was not something he could understand. Protecting one’s young was instinctive. Unquestioned. Woven into the bone. But perhaps humans did not feel it the same way.

The closer they came to the riverbank, the thicker the scent of smoke grew, carrying hints of stew, herbs, and root vegetables. The wind off the Mokkahli River blew it toward them, and his stomach answered with a low growl. It would have been easy to stop, to claim warmth and food, to let the pack sleep beneath a roof rather than trees and open sky. But there were too many of them, and too many wolves in human skin would never pass unnoticed.

Movement ahead caught his eye.

Alaric knelt again, laying his hand flat against the dirt and stone as though feeling for something beneath it. He had done this more than once now, touching the ground, then guiding them with small shifts in direction, a little left, a little right. It was strange, but Kaldrek was beginning to suspect this was how Alaric found his way through the land.

This time, when he stood, something in his face was different.

“What is it?” Kaldrek asked quietly.

“I… I know we’re going the right way,” Alaric murmured. “But something isn’t right.”

“Wrong how?” Holden asked, stepping closer.

Alaric shook his head as if the answer lay just beyond his grasp. Then he crouched again and scooped up a handful of mud, lifting it to his nose.

“This,” he whispered. “It feels wrong. Smells wrong.”

“What do you mean the mud smells wrong?” Holden muttered. “Is it shit? Because that I understand.”

Kaldrek ignored him and moved forward, gripping Alaric’s wrist before the mud slipped from his hand. He leaned down and inhaled.

At first, only wet soil.

Then—

A too-familiar metallic smell. Fuck.

“Get us out of here. Now,” Kaldrek commanded.

Alaric wiped the mud from his palm against his trousers and moved immediately.

Is everything all right? Evelyne’s soft voice slipped into his mind.

I’m not certain, he answered. But we can’t remain here. Keep everyone moving. Quickly.

Silence lingered between them for a heartbeat. He could almost feel her weighing the urge to press him further, to demand the truth.

All right, she replied at last. Let’s move.

Gods, he loved her for that.

He knew she would ask later. Likely scold him for withholding what he sensed, but she trusted his judgment. And that trust anchored him more than she knew.

“Cut behind these trees,” Alaric said, already adjusting their course. “It’ll bring us out on the far side of the post without drawing attention. We’ll stay in the shadows, but it may slow us a few minutes, getting everyone through quietly.”

He muttered under his breath as he picked his way around fallen branches and broken stone, studying the ground as though it told him something. Kaldrek kept a close watch on him. Alaric had a sharp instinct for finding paths others might overlook, and in unfamiliar territory that was too valuable to ignore. Following his lead was no longer a matter of ease, but of necessity.