Chapter 20
The training grounds rang with the low thunder of bodies in motion.
Boots struck packed earth, claws scraped stone, and the loud thud of impact echoed through the clearing as Ravena’s pack worked through drills beneath the open sky.
Morning mist still clung to the edges of the forest, the air cool enough to sting the lungs, but not enough to temper the heat building among the wolves as they sparred.
Evelyne wiped sweat from her brow with the back of her wrist and adjusted her stance just as Heidara lunged.
She barely managed to deflect the strike, steel ringing against steel as Heidara twisted with quick feral grace.
There was a recklessness to her today that hadn’t been there before.
Every blow carried more than training intent. It carried fury.
“You’re distracted,” Heidara muttered as Evelyne recovered, circling.
“I could say the same of you,” Evelyne teased, even as she braced for the next attack. “Though you usually hide it better.”
Heidara’s features drew tight. “I’m still angry with my brother,” she said, striking again. “Furious, actually. I don’t know whether to scream at him or shake him until sense rattles loose.”
Evelyne parried, then stepped back. “And yet?”
“And yet,” Heidara admitted, breath quick, “I am beginning to understand why he lied.” Her eyes flicked briefly toward the far edge of the clearing, where Alaric was conspicuously absent. “Understanding does not mean forgiving.”
“No,” Evelyne agreed softly. “It rarely does.”
They moved again.
Across the clearing, a few more of Ravena’s pack had joined the session, including Beau.
Evelyne noticed him immediately, if only because he made certain everyone did.
He stood tall, broad-shouldered, his expression infuriatingly self-satisfied as his gaze lingered far too long on Heidara.
He hadn’t stopped watching her since he arrived.
Not when she struck. Not when she moved.
Not even when she very pointedly refused to look his way.
“He’s staring again,” Evelyne murmured.
“I know,” Heidara snapped. “If he stares any harder, I may bite him.”
“That would be unfortunate,” Evelyne said dryly. “For him.”
Beau sauntered closer at last, clearly emboldened by the noise and motion of training. “You’re sloppy today,” he called. “Letting your temper guide your strikes.”
Heidara turned on him, eyes flaring. “Care to step in and demonstrate perfection, Beau?”
That frustratingly handsome smile curved his mouth. He was the sort of man who knew precisely how he looked and wielded it like a weapon. “I would, actually.” He glanced at Evelyne. “If you don’t mind.”
Evelyne looked to Heidara, who seemed more than capable of handling herself, and stepped back. “Good luck,” she said lightly.
Beau laughed. “You have so little faith in your friend?”
“Oh,” Evelyne replied, her eyes flashing back to Heidara’s wicked grin, “I wasn’t speaking to her.”
Heidara and Beau squared off while Kaldrek continued demonstrating techniques to the rest of the pack, wolves paired and rotating through drills. For once, Evelyne’s attention was not on the alpha.
It was fixed on her best friend, who looked moments away from settling a very personal score. Evelyne had never cared much for gossip in Caltheris, but this—this she would not miss.
Heidara struck first. Beau dodged easily and began circling.
After a few beats, he lunged low, sweeping her legs and driving her to the ground.
She hit hard, knocking her breath loose.
Beau planted his hand against her chest to keep her pinned and Evelyne watched fury blaze across Heidara’s face at the contact, at the smugness in his posture.
Beau leaned in, his voice low and cocky. “Your punches were fine,” he murmured. “I just wanted an excuse to get you down here.”
Heidara moved at once. Her elbow drove into his jaw, then her knee struck hard into his stomach. Beau stumbled away with a rough grunt as she pushed to her feet.
“You are insufferable,” she snapped.
He rose more slowly, one hand rubbing his jaw, his expression turning dark.
“My apologies,” he said. “I only thought you might want a true male rather than chaining yourself to someone who will not last.” He caught his breath before finishing, “Watching you devote yourself to a dying man is… difficult.”
The clearing went silent.
Then Heidara lunged with a snarl, slamming into Beau hard enough to drive the breath from him.
They hit the ground in a spray of dirt and leaves.
She landed on top of him and struck without restraint, rage flying through her fists.
Beau blocked what he could, twisting beneath her in search of leverage, defending himself without ever striking back.
“You do not get to speak of him,” Heidara roared. “You lost any right to me long ago.”
Holden and Coren moved at once. They caught Heidara by the arms and dragged her off him while Beau scrambled back, chest heaving. Coren planted himself between them as Holden held fast, murmuring something calmly into Heidara’s ear.
Ravena’s voice cut through the clearing like a blade. “Beau.”
Her son froze.
“Have you finished humiliating yourself this morning,” she asked coolly, “or would you prefer to go on testing my patience in front of the entire pack?”
Beau flushed. “I only—”
“Enough,” Ravena said, flat and final. “You are here to train, not provoke.”
Kaldrek stood nearby, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with thinly veiled amusement. Evelyne caught his eye and arched a brow.
He shrugged slightly, lips twitching.
Evelyne turned back to Heidara, who had already pulled free of Holden’s grasp. Dirt streaked her cheek, her hair had come loose, and her breath still came hard.
Evelyne stepped closer. “Are you hurt?”
Heidara dragged the heel of her hand across her face and shook her head. “No.” Her eyes cut once more toward Beau before returning to Evelyne. “Keep sparring with me. I need to burn this out before I do something I regret.”
Evelyne smiled. “As you wish.”
They resumed at once, and with each strike a little more of the fury seemed to leave Heidara’s body. When it finally felt safe to speak, Evelyne decided it was time to shift the mood.
“Cillian plans to try again tonight.”
Heidara’s head jerked up. “You’re joking.”
“I would not dare.”
“I want to be there,” Heidara said at once. “I will not interfere. I swear it.”
Evelyne smirked as she blocked another blow. “Why else do you think I told you?”
A sudden, bright laugh broke from Heidara, and for the first time that morning her movements lost some of their strain.
Around them, the pack carried on with training as the grounds slowly began to empty, wolves drifting away in small clusters while laughter and low conversation faded toward the trees.
Weapons were stowed, sweat-damp hair tied back, and the restless churn of movement softened into the quieter hum of morning.
For one fleeting moment, despite the danger still waiting beyond the horizon, Evelyne felt something close to hope.
She had just sheathed her blade when she realized Kaldrek hadn’t moved.
“Again,” he said, already stepping closer.
“The pack’s finished.”
“I’m not,” he replied easily.
She turned to face him, setting her feet automatically. Kaldrek circled her once, eyes tracking her posture with an intensity that made her acutely aware of every inch of herself.
“You strike like you’re still thinking,” he remarked. “You’re too careful.”
“Forgive me,” she said dryly. “I was raised to be a lady.”
He smiled and reached out, hands settling at her hips before she could comment. He adjusted her stance with practiced ease, thumbs pressing firmly as he shifted her weight.
“You fight like someone who knows she’s dangerous but hasn’t decided how much she wants to enjoy it. And I want to see you enjoy it.”
Her breath caught despite herself. “Is this instruction,” she murmured, “or are you simply taking advantage of the moment?”
Kaldrek leaned in, his voice low against her ear. “Both.”
His mouth brushed her neck, a brief, unrepentant kiss that sent a shiver straight down her spine. Evelyne inhaled sharply, fingers curling at her sides.
“Kaldrek,” she warned, glancing pointedly toward the treeline. “We’re very much in the open.”
His arrogant smile grew. “I’m the alpha. If they wish to watch, let them.” His lips hovered near her skin again. “Might do them good to remember what they don’t have.”
She laughed under her breath, half scandalized, half tempted to test just how far he’d push it. “You are impossible.”
“And yet,” he said, hands still firm at her waist, “you’re still standing here.”
She twisted free just enough to put space between them, though her eyes still sparked. “You’re distracting.”
“That,” he said, stepping back at last, “is not a flaw.”
They stood there for a moment, the tension easing into something quieter, more grounded.
“How do you think tonight will go?” she asked softly.
Kaldrek’s smirk faded, replaced by something more guarded. “Cillian has much work ahead of him.”
“That wasn’t an answer,” she said gently.
“Selene is cautious. She will not allow him to try again if she believes it will break him.” A pause. “I trust her judgment.”
“And Alaric?” Evelyne pressed.
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “If there is a chance,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “then it will be taken. But I will not promise you outcomes I cannot guarantee.”
Evelyne studied him, noting the restraint beneath his control. The weight he carried but refused to share.
“Thank you for not lying to me.”
He stepped closer again, this time without teasing. “I won’t give you false hope,” he said quietly. “But I won’t stop fighting for him either.”
That, she realized, was the truth he was willing to offer. And for now, it was enough.
***
The light in Cillian’s hands dimmed into something steadier, no longer flaring but moving in controlled pulses. As it sank into Alaric’s chest, Kaldrek saw it again: darkness drawing loose.
Thin strands of black mist slipped from Alaric’s skin, twisting and writhing as though unwilling to surrender their hold.
The light coaxed them outward with quiet force, stretching them into fragile coils.
Kaldrek had seen that corruption once before, spilling from Alaric like visible poison.
This time, it clung less fiercely. It unraveled even as it retreated, dissolving into nothing before it could reach the walls.
“Yes,” Selene breathed. “That’s it. Don’t rush. Let it go.”
Lorena’s fingers remained at Alaric’s wrist, her eyes flicking between him and Cillian. “Pulse is steady,” she said. “You’re holding him. Stay with me, Cillian.”
Cillian swayed.
Lorena was already there, anchoring him by the elbow. “Easy,” she warned. “You’re not burning this time, but you’re emptying yourself.”
“I can finish,” Cillian said through clenched teeth.
“You are finishing,” Selene corrected calmly. “Now release.”
With one final, controlled exhale, Cillian drew the light back into himself, and the last of the black mist vanished.
Silence settled hard over the room. Then Cillian’s knees gave way and Lorena caught him at once while Selene steadied his shoulders and eased him carefully down to sit.
His face had gone pale, sweat darkening the hair at his temples, but he was still conscious. Still breathing.
Alaric drew in a deep, shuddering breath, and every eye turned back to him. Selene left Cillian to Lorena’s care and bent over Alaric, listening close to his chest.
“He’s coming back,” she whispered.
Alaric’s eyes opened slowly, hazy at first. He blinked, looking confused as his gaze moved across the ceiling.
“Is she…” His voice faltered. “Where is Heidara?”
Heidara let out a sound between a sob and a laugh and fell to her knees beside him. “I’m here,” she said, holding tightly to his sleeve. “I’m here.”
Alaric’s breathing eased almost immediately. His eyes found Heidara, and the fog in them began to clear. Relief touched his face. Then he looked beyond her.
Evelyne stood frozen, tears falling unchecked. When Alaric saw her, he lifted a shaking hand. The gesture was small, but meaningful. Evelyne gave a broken laugh and waved back, one hand rising to her lips as though she feared even a word might shatter the moment.
Kaldrek said nothing. He only watched.
This was real. Alaric was here. Truly here. And beneath Kaldrek’s ribs, something answered with a deep, steady thrum. Fear and relief both fell short of naming it. This was something older, something newly awakened, reminding him it had always been there.
Something of his own.
He knew it now as surely as he knew the beat beneath his skin.
It had lived beside his instincts in silence, threaded through muscle, breath, and will.
Not concealed, only uncalled. He had never known what to listen for, never guessed power could make itself known with such certainty, until Cillian’s light had surged through him.
As though the two forces had recognized something in each other, meeting in balance rather than conquest, in purity rather than corruption.
Kaldrek curled his hands into loose fists, trying to quiet the pulse beneath his ribs. His gaze dropped to his palms, unbidden, as though they might reveal whatever had stirred awake inside him.
Selene glanced his way, her attention catching on him for a beat before returning to Cillian.
She said nothing, yet something in her expression suggested she had noticed the change.
Perhaps not its nature, but enough to know that something had shifted.
Enough, maybe, to sense the pressure of whatever now strained inside him.
Kaldrek drew in a slow breath and anchored himself in the familiar weight of his own body.
Not now. Evelyne did not need another truth laid at her feet while hope still trembled so delicately in her chest. He would speak to Selene first, and quietly.
The thought of Evelyne learning his magic had awakened, and worse, tracing it back to his inheritance, stirred a fear he did not care to examine too closely.
That could wait until this moment had settled, until the miracle before them no longer seemed so fragile.
So he shifted his stance and remained silent while Selene and Lorena tended to Cillian and Alaric, and the room slowly eased into something resembling calm.
Alaric was not healed, not fully, but the effort was working.
Still, the pulse beneath Kaldrek’s ribs did not fade.
And he knew that it never truly would again.