Chapter 50

The shift had been unlike anything Evelyne had ever experienced.

It was agonizing, overwhelming, and yet profoundly real.

Pain and fear tangled with something far more potent, a wildness buried deep within her that had finally broken free.

Every nerve in her body sparked to life, every sense sharpened beyond anything she had ever known.

It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. And for the first time, she felt complete.

This was who she was meant to be. A wolf. A part of something greater than herself.

For twenty-three years, the truth had been hidden, stolen from her bloodline, erased from memory. The Duskwoods, forgotten. But from what pack? What lineage? And how had Kaldrek been able to speak inside her mind?

The thought of him made her want to scream, rage and frustration twisting inside her so violently it felt like they might tear her apart.

He had kept too many things from her, things that mattered.

She couldn’t understand why. That fury had burned hot when she’d first shifted.

Part of her had wanted to knock him to the throne room floor and let her wolf tear into him for the pain he had caused.

But then his calm, husky voice had slipped into her mind, and the anger had dulled, replaced for a fleeting moment by something warmer. Comfort. Connection.

She’d planned to unleash her fury the second she returned to the tunnel, but everything changed the moment she shifted back.

The instant their eyes met, something surged between them, an electric pull that reached into her bones.

His scent enveloped her, a deep, heady blend of smoke, cedar, and spice.

It wrapped around her like wildfire, heat racing through her blood and drawing a shiver from her despite the cold.

She could have drowned in it, and part of her wanted to.

She stepped toward him, instinct urging her to close the distance, to surrender to whatever bond pulsed between them.

Then her gaze landed on Heidara, and reality crashed back in.

The truth—the betrayal—hit like a punch to the chest. Kaldrek and Holden had kept something vital from her.

Maybe even the entire pack had known, and she couldn’t stop the hurt and rage that flared through her again, searing her skin.

Kaldrek must have sensed it. His voice brushed against her thoughts, soft and cautious, like a whisper carried on the wind.

Heidara does not know.

The shock of hearing him inside her head made Evelyne flinch. She would have to get used to this now—to his presence woven into her being, whether she wanted it or not. That conversation was for another day, but perhaps she could push him out.

Before she could react, Heidara stepped forward and pulled her into a fierce embrace. Evelyne barely felt its warmth—only the weight of her cloak slipping from her shoulders.

Kaldrek moved instantly, catching the fabric and wrapping it around her, already acting as though he had the right to protect her. She held the cloak tightly and turned away from him. He understood the gesture and quietly stepped back, but a part of her still ached for his closeness.

“I’m so glad you’re all right,” Heidara whispered, holding her tighter.

Evelyne breathed in her scent, something soft and earthy, like flowers caught on a breeze.

It was pleasant, but nothing like his. Kaldrek’s scent still clung to the air, the only one strong enough to reach her even from ten feet away.

“Me too,” Evelyne murmured, gently pulling away as she scanned the tunnel for Cillian.

“Follow me.” Heidara smiled, and Evelyne held tight to her friend’s hand.

***

Kaldrek and Obren agreed that the packs needed a night under the open sky, away from the stifling walls of the tunnel.

Everyone set to work, pitching camp nearby.

Scouts were assigned to first and second watch; even though Vaelora was dead and the threat of the Noskari had lessened, caution still ruled the night.

Everyone needed rest, and though magic now coursed through Evelyne’s veins, a deep, bone-weary fatigue still clung to her.

At least the worst of her wounds had already healed and the pain in her ribs had faded.

Later, once the camp had finally quieted, Evelyne found herself sitting beside her brother, shivering slightly in the northern night air.

She had no idea how many hours had passed since she had first stepped out of the tunnel and everything had fallen apart.

The sun could be rising any minute, for all she knew, but there was something she needed to say, something that couldn’t wait.

Heavy silence stretched between them, weighted by everything they had endured and lost. It was Cillian who broke it first.

“I had no control,” he said, his voice hollow with grief. “I tried, Evelyne. I fought until I had nothing left. But I was drowning in her magic. And then…” He faltered. “I gave up.”

Evelyne stayed quiet, listening.

“It was easier to let go,” Cillian continued, his gaze distant.

“Until I heard you.” He turned to her then, golden eyes catching the firelight.

The earlier glow had faded, replaced now with sorrow, and something gentler beneath it.

“Your voice. It broke through the darkness and made me fight again.”

Tears burned at the corners of Evelyne’s eyes.

“I fought because you fought for me,” he whispered.

She reached out and squeezed his hand. “I would never give up on you,” she said fiercely. “Never.” She swallowed hard. “Even Father… He never gave up. He died fighting to find you.”

Cillian’s face crumpled, and he clutched her hand tighter. “He died because of me.”

“No,” Evelyne said, shaking her head.

“He died fighting for you, loving you. That’s what matters.”

“I don’t know how I’ll ever forgive myself,” Cillian muttered, pressing his palms hard against his eyes.

“The things she made me do… The lives I—” His voice cracked, then rose with fury as he pointed toward Reyna and Nathan, who sat silently near their tent.

“I killed your friend. The pack’s friend. Someone’s mate. That was me!”

Evelyne placed a steady hand on his shoulder. “No, Cillian. That wasn’t you. It was her, and the monster she forced into you. We don’t blame you for Ty’s death.”

He dropped his gaze, shoulders trembling. Evelyne gently lifted his chin until their eyes met.

“That wasn’t you. Do you hear me? You would never hurt someone like that.” She waited, watching him closely. When he didn’t respond, she pressed again, softer this time. “Cillian… do you hear me?”

After a long pause, he finally nodded and sat upright.

“You look different,” he said, sniffing as he managed a crooked smile. “Better different. It suits you.”

“Well, thank you,” Evelyne replied dryly. “Turns out a few weeks in the wild with bugs, blood, and zero bathhouses really brings out a girl’s glow.”

Cillian let out a quiet snort.

Evelyne cleared her throat, her voice steady now. “Cillian, that light… What was it?”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I’ve never felt anything like it.

But once I understood what it meant, it was as if something awakened inside me.

First, I saw this small glowing thread of light, so I reached for it.

And the moment I touched it, it surged through me.

That’s when I knew what I had to do to stop her.

” He swallowed. “You used Father’s pistol to kill her. ”

“I did,” she said, faltering as the memory flickered through her mind like a ghost.

“Good,” Cillian said, voice flat. Evelyne gave his hand a quick pat.

A few peaceful moments passed between them, a rare silence that reminded Evelyne how much she cherished her brother’s quiet presence. But just as the calm began to settle, a sharp jolt of panic seized her chest. She gasped, eyes going wide. “Aurelia!”

Cillian’s eyes snapped to hers. “What?”

“What if she shifted too?” Evelyne whispered.

Cillian paled. “Oh no,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “She would lose it.”

“What if it happened at court? What if she hurt someone?”

The thought of their impeccably perfect sister losing control at a royal event nearly broke her composure, somewhere between amusement and horror.

“We need to get home,” Evelyne muttered.

“Agreed.”

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