Chapter 33
Evelyne was back in her bedroom. Laughter rose in her chest as she burrowed beneath the thick, soft comforter on her enormous bed.
She could not have been more than five or six, small enough that the mattress felt like a world all its own.
It was her favorite hiding place, not because it was clever, but because she knew Aurelia would always look there first. And once she found her, Evelyne could tug on her sister’s sleeve and beg her to stay the night, to protect her from whatever imaginary monsters waited in the dark.
Evelyne had never truly believed in monsters.
But the house grew unnervingly still after dusk.
The wind would howl against her window, rattling the panes just enough to make shadows stretch strangely across the walls.
And sometimes, having her sister beside her was enough to soothe her racing thoughts.
“Eeeeeevelyne.” Aurelia’s sweet voice echoed down the corridor. “Wherever could you be hiding?”
Evelyne pressed a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle the giggle threatening to give her away.
“I can see the covers moving.” Aurelia sighed dramatically as she entered the room. “Oh, Evelyne. That is not how this game works.”
The comforter lifted, and warm lamplight spilled in. Aurelia stood there with exaggerated disappointment.
“You are meant to find a new hiding place each time so I do not already know where you are.”
“I know,” Evelyne whispered, grinning.
“Then why did you not?”
“Because I wanted you to find me.”
She beamed up at her sister and tugged insistently at her hand, pulling her beneath the covers.
“Mama will scold me if I sleep in your chambers again,” Aurelia murmured. “She says I am too old for such things.” Her blue eyes already held the beginnings of seriousness, of responsibility, though the pink nightgown and ivory silk ribbon woven through her blonde braid betrayed her youth.
“Please,” Evelyne begged. “I don’t want bad dreams.”
Aurelia hesitated only a moment before sighing. “Fine. But you must not tell Mama.”
Evelyne smiled triumphantly and curled close to her sister’s warmth. Within moments, sleep claimed her.
Those nights had felt endless.
But they had not lasted.
As the years passed, Aurelia had become what was expected of her.
Proper. Poised. Focused on embroidery and literature, piano lessons and the rigid etiquette of nobility.
Slowly, play faded into obligation. Laughter into correction.
And Evelyne could not remember the last time they had spoken freely without the weight of expectation pressing between them.
The memory broke apart at once. Pain ripped through her jaw as another strike caught her low on the cheek, wrenching her head to the side and exposing her neck.
Darkness and dirt slammed back into place around her.
Hot breath drifted over her collarbone. She tasted blood, and her arm lashed out, fingers closing around the Noskari’s throat when it dared bring its foul mouth near her mate mark.
Absolutely not.
“This one fights,” one of them growled with dark amusement. “Hold her. I want a taste before he returns.”
She hit the ground so hard it knocked the breath clean out of her.
The soil beneath her back felt colder than stone as she forced her eyes open.
Both Noskari stood above her, black veins throbbing up their throats and into their foreheads.
They were the stuff of nightmares, the kind of monsters she once never believed could be real.
For a fleeting second, she wished to lose consciousness again—to fall back into the warmth of her childhood bedroom, to hear Aurelia’s laughter in the hallway.
But she couldn’t. Not while someone she loved remained chained in that tunnel. Not while monsters still lived.
Sharp teeth sank into her flesh.
The pain did not come at once. It spread slowly, burning as though something had been poured straight into her veins.
Heat crawled beneath her skin, turning her blood to fire.
A scream tore from her throat before she could stop it.
She thrashed beneath them, wild and desperate, but it made no difference.
Her arms were pinned. Her legs were trapped.
The Noskari held her down with crushing force, their bodies locked over hers, rigid and immovable as stone.
She could not breathe properly.
Could not focus.
No.
Not like this.
A second set of teeth sank into her, higher along her shoulder, and another desperate scream tore free. White sparks burst behind her eyes as more blood was pulled from her. The world lurched. Haze gathered at the edges of her vision.
Then, all at once, the weight at her side vanished, followed by the hard crack of a body slamming into the tunnel wall.
“You thief!” one hissed.
“She is not yours to claim.”
The third Noskari did not stop feeding. It clung to her wrist, drawing from her as though the others’ fury meant nothing.
She felt herself being yanked violently from its teeth.
Skin tore. Agony flared bright and blinding as she screeched.
Her body sagged as another caught her, its claws digging into her ribs to keep her upright.
Her head pounded violently. All she could make out were flashes of pale gray limbs tangled in black mist, veins pulsing like living cords beneath translucent skin, claws slashing, teeth snapping. The scent of rot and blood in the air.
“I said she is mine,” the creature holding her growled, voice vibrating against her spine. It squeezed tighter, her ribs protesting under the pressure.
Mine.
The word echoed in her skull. She was not theirs. She would never belong to them. The only one who claimed her was Kaldrek.
“Her blood is pure like the girl’s,” another rasped, circling. “You will share. We all will share.”
They descended on one another then, like animals fighting over meat. She was dropped roughly to the ground as the three Noskari collided in a storm of writhing shadow and snapping jaws. Black blood sprayed as mist thickened and swirled.
They were fighting over her. Over her blood.
She did not have time to make sense of it.
The bloodroot restraints were no longer at her ankles, and she could feel her magic creeping slowly back into her limbs.
This was her only chance. Pain still throbbed through her torn wrist and shoulder, but she forced herself upright and gave herself over to the shift she no longer feared, only wanted.
Bones cracked beneath her skin, her spine arched, muscle tore and reformed, and fur burst through blood-slick flesh as her scream twisted into a guttural snarl.
Her wolf surged forward and took her body back.
Claws lengthened. Fangs dropped. The air changed at once, sharper now, clearer, thick with the scent of prey and weakness.
She threw back her head and howled, not in fear or pain, but in warning, in command, in defiance.
Let Holden hear her. Let him know that this was his chance too.
She lunged, no longer afraid of what might happen to her, but ready to kill and fight for those who mattered.