Chapter 42
The second week of travel brought them closer to their destination. The air grew colder. Each mile forward felt heavier, the unknown pressing in on all sides. The rolling hills flattened into long stretches of dry grass, the occasional cluster of trees breaking the monotony of the landscape.
Alaric rode in front, scanning the horizon.
Kaldrek stayed in his human form, sharing the saddle with Evelyne so he could talk with Alaric as they neared their destination.
She leaned into him, comforted by his steady presence.
The journey had been long, but she felt more at ease with him behind her.
Alaric had been waiting for some sign, something undeniable to prove they were headed in the right direction.
While the rest of the pack questioned whether the path even existed, he held on to a quiet conviction, insisting he could feel it was still out there and urging them to trust him.
Evelyne chose to believe him. Kaldrek hadn’t argued; it was their only real option.
All she could do now was hope Alaric would find what he’d been searching for.
At last, he did. A small, nearly forgotten village was nestled in the valley below.
“That’s it,” Alaric said, pulling his horse to a stop and gesturing toward the distant settlement. “That’s the village of Wrenford.”
Evelyne followed his gaze. The village was nothing like Cindermoor. It was smaller and quieter, its streets empty save for a few wisps of smoke curling from chimneys. It looked abandoned in some parts and barely hanging on in others.
“A trade route must have once run through here,” Alaric continued, turning in the saddle to face Kaldrek. “It was supposed to connect the eastern villages to Nerathar before it was abandoned. If we’re seeing Wrenford now, then we’re close.”
Kaldrek nodded, his expression unreadable. “Then we keep moving. No stops. We can’t risk being seen.”
They rode on, leaving the village behind.
The ground sloped downward, the terrain shifting subtly as they followed Alaric’s path.
Eventually, they reached an area where the land broke apart into jagged stones scattered haphazardly around a narrow stream.
Some of the rocks were massive, standing like ancient sentinels, their surfaces worn smooth by time and water.
Alaric dismounted first, moving toward the largest of the stones.
He traced his fingers over the surface, eyes narrowing in thought.
“This is it,” he murmured. “The trade route ran through here. If I’m right, the entrance should be…
” He scanned the ground, then pointed toward a small opening where the stones clustered together.
Kaldrek moved forward, sniffing the air.
“You think it’s underground?”
Alaric nodded. “It makes sense. If this route was forgotten, it was either swallowed by the land or hidden on purpose.” He knelt near the opening, brushing aside dirt and debris until a deeper passage was revealed. “This was once an entryway.”
Obren stepped forward, now in human form, his cloak draped around him as he peered into the darkness. “How far down do you think it stretches?”
“Deep enough to keep us hidden,” Evelyne said, a hint of hope rising through the cloud of doubt. “But what about the horses?”
One by one, the pack began shoving the loose rocks aside, revealing a large, gaping hole in the earth. The entrance yawned wide and dark, a hidden passage swallowed by time, but as Evelyne peered inside, reality settled over her. There was no way the horses would fit.
Kaldrek stepped forward, slipping into the tunnel’s shadowed mouth. He disappeared for a moment, surveying the space, before emerging again.
“We’ll have to leave the horses,” he said. “We can pull you both on sleds while we travel or move on foot if necessary.”
“Won’t that slow us down?” Evelyne asked, though she already knew there was no alternative.
But Alaric only smiled. “This route cuts straight under the mountain ridge into Nerathar. We won’t have to deal with the rough terrain above. This path was hidden for a reason—because it trims our journey by days, weeks even.”
Evelyne’s breath caught. “What?”
Alaric’s grin widened. “I told you. I memorized the maps. I figured this little secret would be more fun to reveal at the right moment.”
And there it was: that telltale wink, the playful arrogance he wielded so easily when he felt particularly pleased with himself. She let out a breathless laugh and wrapped her arms around him in a brief, grateful hug.
“Well, don’t celebrate just yet,” he teased. “I have no idea what awaits us in that tunnel. You might end up cursing my name before this is over.”
His voice was light, but he wasn’t wrong. The tunnel stretched before them, dark and full of unseen dangers. But a sense of relief settled over Evelyne for the first time since leaving Cindermoor.
Alaric had been right. They had found their path.
***
At least they didn’t have to worry about the weather down here.
It was cold, damp, and eerily silent, but there was no rain or wind.
The deeper they went, the further the temperature dropped, a creeping chill that settled in Evelyne’s bones.
Luckily, they had prepared well for the journey.
Packs were stocked with dried meat, fruit, nuts, and dense loaves of bread, ensuring they had enough sustenance for the weeks ahead.
In their shifter forms, the wolves required far less food than the humans, but even they carried provisions, knowing that hunting would be impossible in the darkness of the tunnels.
Water would have been a concern, but to their relief, a small underground stream ran along parts of the tunnel, its crystal-clear waters trickling over smooth stone. Holden had tested it first, sniffing the liquid, then tasting it cautiously.
“Fresh,” he confirmed. They still rationed their filled canteens just in case the water ran dry, but it was a steady source of hydration for now.
As they ventured further along the tunnel, a sharp metallic scent hung in the air, thick and clinging to Evelyne’s senses like a warning.
Strangely, none of the shifters had said a word about it—only Alaric had mentioned it, which was odd, given the shifters’ heightened sense of smell.
Finally, unable to shake the unease, she turned to Heidara, hoping for confirmation.
“Please tell me you smell that.”
Heidara frowned. “I do. It’s the stench of dark magic.”
“It’s so strong. How does it not bother you?”
“It does, but Kaldrek thinks it means we’re getting closer. Trust me, I’m doing my best not to vomit.”
A shiver crawled down Evelyne’s spine. Kaldrek must have been communicating with his pack mind to mind.
“Closer to what?”
“To her. To Vaelora’s magic. We’ve caught traces of it on the Noskari before, but never this strong. Kaldrek also warned us to stay alert. He’s been sensing shadows, but says they feel… different.”
“And he’s the only one who can sense her magic?” Evelyne asked.
“As far as we know, yes. And thank the gods he’s our alpha.”
When they finally stopped for the night, the pack lit small fires along the walls of rough stone and twisted roots.
The space was tight but not unbearable. But it had only been a day, and Evelyne was already weary of the darkness.
The wolves could see without issue in their shifted forms, but as humans, they needed the firelight to navigate.
A hush fell over the pack as the flames crackled to life, casting flickering light against the stone. What they had assumed were roots turned out to be something else entirely. Thick strands lined the walls and ceiling, red and twisting and pulsing.
Not plant roots, but veins.
“What the hell are those?” Evelyne breathed.
The pack murmured among themselves, some reaching out, running their fingers over the strange growths—
“Don’t touch them!” Kaldrek’s voice sliced through the air. “We don’t know what they are.”
The moment his voice rang out, the veins moved. Like living things, they shuddered and slithered, recoiling into the walls, sucking themselves back into the dirt and rock. They vanished in an instant, leaving no trace behind. And the smell disappeared with them.
Evelyne’s skin prickled as she turned to Heidara. “The smell is gone.”
Heidara’s eyes widened. “That’s… unsettling.”
“What the fuck was that?” Holden called out to Kaldrek, but he stood rigid.
“Stay away from the walls,” he ordered. “We stick to the middle.”
Which meant less space and less breathing room. Everyone was pressed in closer now, forced to settle around the fire like caged animals.
After assigning scouts to keep watch, Kaldrek approached where Evelyne, Heidara, Holden, and Alaric were gathered.
He and Holden would be taking the second watch, and Evelyne couldn’t help but wonder if he ever slept.
He was a fierce and commanding leader, yet the quiet way he cared for his pack made something stir deep in her chest—a soft, aching pull that felt dangerously close to love.
She wanted him. His touch, his kiss, but they hadn’t had a moment alone to talk.
What did he think about whatever this was between them, especially with the eyes of the pack always nearby?
Still, the little things, like how he reached for her at night and how his body curved protectively around hers, spoke louder than words ever could.
Before she could sink too deep into thought, Kaldrek’s arm slipped around her waist, grounding her. She looked up just as he leaned in and softly kissed her lips.
Her heart stuttered.
He’d done it in front of everyone. To the untrained eye, it was nothing more than a tender moment. But to the wolves, it was a declaration. A claim.
She’s mine.