Chapter 40 #2
She tore her gaze away, looking back to the man on his knees, to the one who had raised and protected her. To her father. His body sagged between his captors, barely upright. But his eyes were filled not with pain or fear, but with love. And guilt.
“Don’t do this,” she pleaded once more, though deep down, she knew it was futile. Her mind raced. Why was her father here? Was he traveling alone? How long had he been in pain? He looked so weak and broken.
Time seemed to freeze around her, trapping her in an endless moment.
She barely registered the warm trickle of blood sliding down her arm as a Noskari dragged a razor-sharp black fingernail across her skin, slicing it open.
The sting was distant, insignificant compared to the horror unfolding before her.
It was going to feed on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to fight or even look away.
Its strength held her captive, but it didn’t matter, because all she could see was her father.
“I was looking for him too, Evelyne,” he rasped. “Don’t give up on him. I… I know he’s still in there.”
The Noskari snapped its head toward him, snarling. “Silence.”
Her father hadn’t come to drag her back. He had been searching for Cillian, just like her. And he trusted her to find him, believed in her. Pride and anguish swelled inside her, tangling into something unbearable.
The Noskari turned back to her. “This is your final warning.” A cruel smile twisted its face as it leaned in close, whispering the words against her cheek. “Let the lost stay lost.”
“No.” The plea left her lips before she could stop it, but she knew, even before she spoke, that they were past mercy.
The creature moved.
Too fast.
Her stomach dropped, ice flooding her veins. “NO!” she shrieked, thrashing against the iron grip of the Noskari holding her back. She watched helplessly as the other Noskari knelt before her father.
His lips parted. “Stay brave, Evelyne. I’ve always been so proud of—”
There was a brutal thrust, and the Noskari’s arm punched through his chest with a sickening crack.
Flesh ripped. Bone splintered. A wet, gruesome sound filled the air, followed by the slow, gurgling choke of a man gasping his final breath. Then—blood. It spilled in thick, pulsing waves, slick and dark, seeping into the earth as if the ground itself were drinking him dry.
Evelyne’s broken screams erupted through the night as the Noskari wrenched its clawed hand free. Clenched within its grasp was her father’s glistening heart.
His body spasmed. Once. Twice. Then crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut.
Lifeless. Gone.
For a moment, the world stood still. No sound. No breath. Just the horrific sight of that still-beating organ, slick with blood, pulsing weakly before the grip around it tightened. Thick droplets splattered onto the soaked earth, mingling with the ruin of so many before him.
Then everything erupted.
Kaldrek lunged, a savage rush of muscle and fury, his fangs sinking deep into the Noskari’s throat. Blood gushed in thick, steaming ribbons, but the creature didn’t fall. It snarled and wrenched free, hurling him to the ground with a brutal force that cracked bone and left the earth trembling.
Pain ignored, he rolled to his feet with a guttural growl and launched himself at the creature again. And again. And again.
There was nothing measured in his attack—only despair and blind rage. The Noskari grinned through it all, its twisted mouth stretching in amusement as if it relished the torment.
But Kaldrek didn’t stop.
He was the only one who could face such a monster alone.
The wolves descended, a violent wave of fur and snapping jaws, tearing into the chaos with savage purpose. Evelyne saw Alaric fighting his way to her, blade slicing through anything that came too close, reloading the pistol with every precious second he could steal.
And then, suddenly, the Noskari began to vanish. Their forms unraveled into black mist, twisting and curling away into the night like smoke fleeing the light.
The battle was over.
Silence fell. Evelyne crawled forward, knees sinking into the blood-soaked dirt. She barely felt it as her shaking fingers brushed the burned sigil seared into her father’s abdomen.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked. “I’m so sorry.” She rocked back and forth, her forehead pressing against his cooling skin. “I love you. I’m so sorry.”
She didn’t know how long she sat there, whispering apologies into the cold night. Time had lost all meaning. The world had shrunk to nothing but her father’s lifeless body and the hollow ache inside her chest.
She might have stayed there forever if not for the warmth that suddenly enveloped her.
Strong, steady arms wrapped around her, pulling her in.
She lifted her gaze and realized everyone had shifted back.
Kaldrek’s grip tightened as he lifted her effortlessly, pressing her against his chest. She didn’t fight it.
She couldn’t. And the moment his fingers tangled in her hair, his lips brushing a soft, lingering kiss against her forehead, the dam inside her shattered. She broke completely in his arms.
“We can’t leave him,” Evelyne sobbed into Kaldrek’s chest, her voice breaking. “We can’t—”
“I know,” he muttered, his arms tightening around her. “Shh. I know.” His voice was gentle, a lifeline in the frenzy. “We’ll move him, Evelyne. I promise.”
Kaldrek turned to the gathered warriors, his voice carrying through the night.
“Burn the Noskari. We will bury our loved ones.”
It had been the best night of her life, and the worst. A revel beneath the full moon, her birthday marked by festivity, Kaldrek’s confession, and the closeness they had finally allowed themselves.
For one brief moment, everything had felt real, whole, and right.
Then came the ruin. The blood. And her father’s heart being torn from his chest.
A wave of nausea surged through her.
“Put me down,” she demanded, and Kaldrek obeyed.
The moment her feet touched the ground, she doubled over, her stomach wrenching violently.
The world blurred as bile and grief plunged through her in heaving waves.
But he stayed kneeling beside her, rubbing slow, soft circles on her back.
Heidara was there as well, wordlessly pulling her hair back as Evelyne emptied every last drop of ale and food onto the grass.
When it was over, she sagged, breath unsteady, staring at nothing.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?” Heidara said quietly.
There was no one like her. A true friend. And Kaldrek, whatever he was to her—she didn’t have a name for it yet—she was grateful he was here. But at this moment, all she wanted was to disappear.
“I’m going to pick you up now.” Kaldrek’s voice was calm, but firm. His arms slipped beneath her, lifting her carefully against his chest. He carried her past the lodges, but didn’t take her to her room. He took her to his.
Heidara followed without question; either she understood or didn’t care where Kaldrek took Evelyne, as long as she wasn’t left alone.
Inside, she busied herself, drawing a hot bath while Evelyne stood motionless and numb.
She felt almost nothing—only the sticky weight of blood clinging to her skin.
Not her own. Theirs. The Noskari’s… and her father’s.
“I’ll take it from here, Heidara.”
Her friend gave a slight nod and left without a word. Evelyne knew she should thank her, but she had nothing left to give.
“Are you hurt?” Kaldrek asked, his voice edged with concern.
Aside from the shallow gash on her forearm where the Noskari had cut her, she was physically unscathed. But she could only imagine how she looked: bloodied, shaken, barely holding herself together. She couldn’t find her voice, so she simply shook her head.
Kaldrek nodded toward her boots. “May I?”
She could undress herself, but she couldn’t be alone right now. And he’d already seen her bare and vulnerable. So she nodded.
Carefully, he helped her out of her boots and then her bloodied clothes. She stepped into the bath, sinking into the steaming water, letting it scald away the night’s filth. Kaldrek stayed, kneeling by her side, his touch impossibly gentle as he washed the blood from her hair and face.
He gathered bandages from the small closet and wrapped the cut on her arm. When he was done, he didn’t move. He stayed where he was, his gaze fixed not on her body but on her eyes.
“This is my fault,” she whispered as guilt and sorrow clawed back in. “All of this.”
“Don’t say that.” Kaldrek reached out, tilting her chin so their eyes met. “Look at me.”
She did.
“None of this was your fault. None of it. Vaelora did this. Do you hear me?”
His words were a tether, something solid in the storm. He leaned in and kissed her forehead, and she breathed again.
“Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s get to bed. We’ll have the burials tomorrow. I’ll make sure of it.”
She didn’t argue. She needed his steadiness.
But what now? Her thoughts drifted to her mother, to Aurelia, to Seraphine.
Oh, how she missed her handmaid, her friend.
Missed her quiet comfort and the way she held her when everything felt too heavy.
But tonight, Evelyne could let herself lean on Kaldrek, and for that, she was truly grateful.