Chapter 28 #2
Evelyne bit her tongue, unwilling to let this man’s harsh realism shake her belief in Cillian. A wave of dizziness washed over her, but she pushed to her feet regardless. She needed to leave now, before the doubt sank in.
Holden leaned back, smirking. “I’d take it easy on that ale. You don’t have the tolerance for northeastern spirits.”
“Thanks for the warning,” she tossed over her shoulder before slipping into the night.
Evelyne’s thoughts coiled in a dizzying haze of ale and revelation.
Kaldrek could sense the darkness and hunted those touched by it to protect his pack.
If she or Alaric had shown the slightest sign of taint, he wouldn’t have hesitated to kill them.
That alone should have sobered her, but the warmth in her veins made her restless, lighter.
All she wanted was to let go, to be swept into the dark and wild pulse of the evening.
She stepped toward the fire, following the drums, until she saw him.
Kaldrek moved in sync with a striking woman, her long black hair cascading down her back, her warm-toned skin illuminated by the flames.
She moved like the night was hers, and those barely-there leathers hugged curves carved by temptation itself.
Evelyne couldn’t help but admire her… and resent just how effortlessly she drew so many eyes.
Her gaze lingered on Kaldrek’s large hands gripping the woman’s waist, his fingers pressing firmly as they swayed. Then he leaned in, his head dipping toward her neck. The gesture was unmistakably intimate, and Evelyne felt a slow heat bloom across her skin as she watched him.
She told herself to look away, to stop staring at the way he wrapped himself around the woman with such possessive mastery. But she didn’t. Couldn’t. She only stood there, watching… wanting. And for one reckless heartbeat, she wished someone would hold her like that.
Without warning, Kaldrek’s dark gaze snapped to hers.
Shit.
She remained frozen, caught, trapped like prey beneath the hunter’s stare. But he didn’t stop moving, didn’t pull away from the woman, just watched her watching him.
Mortified, Evelyne spun around and walked back to her tent, cursing herself the whole way. Inside, she yanked out the map, eyes locking onto the glowing parchment, grounding herself in something real.
The map was clear. No danger in sight. She exhaled, tension easing from her shoulders.
Tomorrow, they’d be on their own again. She needed that.
Time to think. Time to plan. But she still had to get her weapons back.
Perhaps Heidara would lend her some clothes and supplies, but it didn’t change the fact that she felt dangerously exposed without a way to protect herself.
A gravel-rough voice cut through the silence behind her. “What is that?”
Evelyne spun, clutching the map to her chest. Kaldrek stood in the tent, his tall frame blocking the entire entrance. His dark eyes flicked down to the parchment in her hands.
She forced a casual shrug. “Just a map. Planning our next route.”
His stare pinned her in place. “That’s not a normal map. Open it.”
Her fingers tightened around the parchment. Demanding bastard. “I think not,” she said flatly. “You’ve taken enough from me this past week. My weapons, my pride. You don’t get this, too. Now, kindly leave.”
He took a step closer and quickly ripped the map from her hands.
Evelyne gaped at him. “I beg your pardon?” She lunged to snatch it back, but he merely lifted one muscled arm, blocking her effortlessly. “Give me that.”
He unfolded the map, his expression hardening as he took in its strange, glowing markings. “Tell me what this is, and maybe I’ll consider it.”
Oh, he was an expert in irritation.
“Do you habitually steal things that aren’t yours, or is it just me you enjoy tormenting?”
His jaw ticked, but he didn’t answer. This was going nowhere. If she didn’t give him something, he’d never let it go.
“It shows us when the darkness is near,” she admitted, irritation lacing her voice. “It’s our only warning. And since you can sense it yourself, you do not need this.”
Faster than he could react, she snatched the map from his hands, stepping back before he could grab it again. His fists clenched at his sides, but he made no move to take it. Instead, he studied her with those unreadable brown eyes and asked, “Who told you I could sense the dark magic?”
“Holden.”
A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Of course. He can’t keep his mouth shut around pretty women.”
Heat bloomed across her cheeks. Traitorous warmth. Had he just complimented her? She shoved the thought aside. Focus. He was an arrogant, controlling brute, and she wasn’t about to let him distract her.
“Why are you even here?” she snapped. “Shouldn’t you be entertaining your companion?”
He smirked. “You seemed rather taken with me and my companion.” His tone carried a clear challenge.
Evelyne scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I saw you watching.” He took a slow step closer, his presence filling the space. “Just let me know if you’d like a turn.”
Her body went rigid. Willing away the heat rising to her face, she forced her voice into something steady. “I want my weapons back.”
Kaldrek studied her for a beat before nodding. “I’ll have Heidara leave them outside your tent before we’re gone.”
“Why not now?”
His smile deepened with amusement. “Because I don’t know if I can trust you, Evelyne.” He dragged her name out just enough to make her shiver.
Her resolve faltered, exhaustion settling deep in her bones. She had been too guarded, too careful with her words. But why? He already knew what lurked in the shadows. They all did. So what was the point in holding back?
“She has my brother,” Evelyne confessed. “Alaric and I need to find him, and I need whatever I can get to make it to Nerathar.” She let out a slow breath, her voice quieter now. “If you’re hunting the shadows, you already know who I’m talking about.”
His eyes darkened with something dangerous.
“You’re going to Vaelora?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“You’ll die before you even reach her,” he said, his tone grave. “Or worse, she’ll take your soul before you even realize it’s gone.”
“I know it seems impossible. Foolish, even. But I have to find him.”
For the first time since she’d met him, his expression wasn’t mocking or unreadable—it was grim. Cold.
“Well,” he said after a long silence, “you should enjoy the rest of the moon ritual. It’ll likely be the last you’ll ever experience.” Before she could form a sharp retort, he turned toward the tent entrance. “We shift in two hours,” he said over his shoulder. “Stay out of our way.”
Without another glance, he stepped back into the moonlight, leaving Evelyne alone. But she refused to dwell on his words. If Alaric and everyone else could enjoy the night, so could she.
With newfound determination, she stepped out of her tent, grabbed a horn of ale, and headed for the fire. The steady beat of drums echoed through the night, and before she could second-guess herself, Alaric darted to her, grinning, his bare chest streaked with painted swirls like the other men.
“I have no idea what I’m doing,” she admitted, leaning close to his ear to be heard over the music.
He just laughed and spun her into the firelight. “Then let me teach you.”
She downed the rest of her drink in one go, the warmth of the ale flooding through her, emboldening her. Her body loosened, her laughter light as she swayed with him, trying to follow his lead. The tension between them melted away, and she allowed herself to enjoy the moment.
New hands settled at her waist, guiding her in time with the music, and when she glanced back, she was startled to find Holden behind her.
“Just listen and let your hips move freely,” he said, flawlessly adjusting his movements to match hers.
The music thrummed through her veins, and time slipped away in a blur of moments—perhaps minutes, perhaps hours.
It was the first time in weeks that she had truly felt free.
The weight of her mission, her fear, her grief—it all dissolved, lost to the pulse of the drums and the warmth of eastern ale.
She felt it before she saw it, a heaviness settling over her skin. Turning her head, she found Kaldrek across the fire, his eyes locked on hers. He wasn’t just looking. He was studying. And judging by the intensity of his stare, he’d been watching far longer than she realized.
When their eyes met, he didn’t look away. Instead, he lifted his ale and drank with agonizing slowness, his gaze fixed on hers until a strange flutter stirred in her chest. Then, without a word, he turned and disappeared into the night.
“Fun, isn’t it?” Holden grinned, completely unaware of the shift in her mood.
She nodded, though her mind was no longer entirely in the moment.
Heidara and Alaric joined them, both flushed with exhilaration.
“We’re shifting soon,” Heidara warned. “The elders will gather first and perform the ritual. Lots of chanting, but once it’s done, the pack will shift as one and take off.
” She paused to glance between Evelyne and Alaric.
“If you’re in the way, move. You do not want to get caught between us. ”
Alaric touched Evelyne’s arm. “Come on. Let’s head back.”
But she didn’t want to leave. She wanted to see this. To witness the raw power of the shift. Still, she knew they had to prepare for the morning.
She reluctantly tore her eyes from the fire and followed him, casting one last glance over her shoulder. Whatever happened tonight, she felt it would be burned into her memory forever.