Chapter 51
They did not stop running until the sun began to set.
The land stretched endlessly beneath them, fields and forest blurring together as they pushed farther from Caltheris.
The air had been sharp at first, biting at their lungs, but the pace soon burned through the cold.
By the time they slowed, early evening had softened the world, the sky fading into gold and violet.
Holden shifted back first, staggering as his feet hit the ground. His chest heaved, sweat clinging to his skin despite the chill, and he dragged a hand down his face. Kaldrek saw the effort in it, but little relief.
Kaldrek shifted a moment later with far more control, though the run still left his breathing heavy. Heidara remained in wolf form, watching them both with red eyes that knew far too much for his liking.
She understood.
Holden paced once, then again, before stopping altogether and crouching low, his head bowed. “Fuck,” he bit out, though the word lacked its earlier edge. “What the hell was that?”
Kaldrek did not answer at once. They both knew what that sweet scent meant. Thankfully, now that they were far from it, Kaldrek seemed able to think more clearly.
“Breathe,” Kaldrek said, his voice steady. “Slow your heart.”
Holden let out a humorless laugh and dragged a hand through his damp blond hair. “I have been running for hours. You think my heart is the problem?”
“It is part of it.”
Holden shot him a look. “You’re handling this well,” he muttered. “Better than I am.”
“It is not as strong for me. You know that.”
Holden frowned. “What do you mean?”
Kaldrek glanced briefly at Heidara before answering. “The scent affects unmated males differently. In certain cases, it can strike one male far more intensely than the rest of the pack.”
A long silence followed.
Holden exhaled. “Fuck. This is bad.”
“Do you understand?” Kaldrek asked.
Holden stared at him, then turned away and began pacing again, slower this time, more controlled. “Yeah. I understand.”
“You need to stay away. At least for now.”
“A few days will not fix this, Kaldrek.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “But it is all we have at the moment. Let me handle it.”
Holden gave a dry, humorless laugh, his attention shifting to the distance as Heidara ran ahead toward the Shaw estate. “Good luck with that, Alpha,” he muttered.
Then he shifted again, bones snapping into place, and took off after his sister.
Kaldrek remained still a moment longer. He had no solution, not a true one, and with the ball only a few nights away, time was no ally.
So he shifted, surrendering to instinct as his body cut silently across the land.
He ran without direction, without thought, until the world narrowed to breath, movement, and the steady rhythm of his paws against the ground.
Somehow, he found himself at the grove.
He slowed as the towering canopy came into view, its branches spread wide above him, sheltering the space beneath in sacred stillness.
Night had settled fully now, the sky hidden behind leaves, the air heavy with something ancient and watchful.
Kaldrek shifted back into his human form and stepped forward slowly. He had been wanting to come here alone.
And now he had.
The Solwyn Tree stood before him, vast and unmoving, its roots twisting deep into the soil as though they held the world together. Kaldrek swallowed. He had not forgotten what lurked beyond these lands. What hunted. What waited. He had a plan, a last resort he prayed he would never need.
But if it came to it, he would do whatever was necessary to protect his mate.
To protect his pack.
“Do you know who I am?” Kaldrek asked, his voice low against the stillness. “I carry her blood, but I am not her. I am not cruel.” He stepped closer, his gaze lifting to the tree. “Help me protect them.”
He did not know what he expected in return. A feeling, perhaps. Some kind of answer. Anything. Perhaps he only needed to touch it, to understand it. Slowly, he reached out, his fingers hovering just above the roots.
And then Evelyne’s voice crashed into his mind.
You have a great deal of explaining to do, and I am furious you are making me wait until morning.
Kaldrek paused.
Then smiled.
He drew his hand back, the moment slipping away as easily as it had come.
I love it when you are angry with me.
The teasing thought carried through the bond before he shifted again and disappeared into the night, racing back toward his pack.
***
Kaldrek sat on the leather couch in the Duskwood library, which he could already tell was one of Evelyne’s favorite rooms. She had been eager to show him the shelves, pointing out beloved fables and romances as though she had briefly forgotten why he was there at all.
Cillian had been present too, but politely excused himself the moment Aurelia entered.
Poor thing. Kaldrek doubted any of this was pleasant for Cillian.
A servant set tea on the table. Kaldrek was becoming convinced southerners drank nothing else. After a few polite clinks of spoons against porcelain, he cleared his throat.
“Let us keep this short and simple,” he began.
“I truly do not believe there is much to discuss,” Aurelia interrupted smoothly, lifting her teacup for a delicate sip. “I feel perfectly fine at the moment.”
“You are not fine,” Evelyne said, leaning forward slightly. “You are very much on edge. Please continue.”
Aurelia sighed dramatically and set down her cup. “Then perhaps you can explain why Cillian has suddenly vanished. I swear, no one seems particularly eager to be near me.”
“I am sure he simply has other matters to attend to,” Evelyne replied.
“Actually,” Kaldrek said, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them, “it is your scent.”
Aurelia blinked.
“I beg your pardon?” she snapped. “What, exactly, are you implying?”
He had offended her. Brilliant.
Kaldrek exhaled. “Your brother left because your scent makes him uncomfortable. Not because it is unpleasant—it is just… not something he wishes to be around.”
Evelyne stared at him, utterly confused, while Aurelia sat opposite them in stunned disbelief.
“I am not sure there is a graceful way to explain this,” Kaldrek muttered, shifting slightly in his seat. “So I will not attempt one. You are in what we call heat.”
“Heat?” Evelyne echoed, her tone somewhere between curiosity and disbelief.
“Yes. Typically females enter heat when their bodies reach a certain age and are inclined to bearing children.”
Aurelia gave a soft laugh. “Ovulation, then? You cannot mean to tell me I am simply ovulating, Kaldrek. All women do.”
“Yes, but not like this,” Kaldrek said, rubbing his jaw. “Fuck, I should have let Heidara explain it.”
Evelyne smirked, clearly enjoying this far more than she should have.
“A shifter female requires a trigger,” he went on. “It often follows a settled mating bond, or when her body deems her ready. But it does not happen without cause.”
“And this is uncomfortable for the males?” Aurelia asked dryly.
“Not particularly,” Kaldrek replied. “Only for your brother, for obvious reasons. For me, it is simply noticeable. Not overwhelming. But for unmated males…” He paused. “It can be rather intense.”
“Can we please stop discussing how I smell?” Aurelia snapped. “I smell nothing, aside from the scent of the two of you—which, I might add, still resembles wet dogs.”
“The symptoms you are experiencing are the second stage,” Kaldrek continued, undeterred. “Males can detect it before you feel anything.”
Evelyne leaned forward. “So yesterday when you had to remove Holden from the tea room…”
“He was losing his mind over your sister,” Kaldrek finished.
“Oh, how delightful. I have developed some sort of irresistible scent that sends wolf males into madness.”
“Essentially, yes,” Kaldrek said.
“And why,” Aurelia continued, gesturing sharply toward Evelyne, “has she never experienced this?”
Evelyne turned to Kaldrek expectantly.
“As I said,” he replied, “it usually follows a mating bond by some time. It may be that her body is not yet ready. Or—”
“Well, perhaps my body is ready, but I am not,” Aurelia cut in. “And I am not even mated, so I fail to see how any of this applies to me.”
“That is true,” Kaldrek said. “However, it still requires a trigger.”
“By what?” Evelyne asked.
Kaldrek met her gaze. “By a potential mate.”
Silence fell over the room.
“A potential mate?” Aurelia repeated.
Evelyne’s eyes widened. “No,” she said, a laugh slipping from her lips. “You cannot be serious.”
Aurelia’s gaze snapped toward Evelyne, who was now covering her mouth in a very poor attempt to suppress her amusement.
“Oh,” Evelyne said slowly, “this makes far too much sense… and yet none at all.”
“What is it?” Aurelia asked urgently.
“Do you remember when I tried to explain how I knew Kaldrek was my mate?”
Aurelia’s brow furrowed. “You said something about his scent being pleasant, I believe. And some sort of pull toward him. I do not recall every detail, sister. Can we please stop playing games?”
“This is not a game, Aurelia.” Evelyne leaned forward slightly. “Has anyone’s scent been particularly appealing to you of late? Someone you may have asked about the type of soap he uses, perhaps?” She paused. “Holden, for instance?”
Aurelia’s eyes widened. Then she stood abruptly, smoothing her skirts with sharp, furious hands.
“You are both lying,” she declared. “I am perfectly fine. I have no potential mate, I most certainly do not have a scent, and you will not mention that male to me again.”
She turned and stormed from the library.
Kaldrek watched her go, then looked back to Evelyne with a small shrug. “Well. That did not go terribly.”
Evelyne stared after her, lifting her teacup slowly. “I cannot believe this.”
“Yeah,” Kaldrek said. “Holden can’t either.”
Evelyne let out a breath. “The ball should be delightful. I suppose I shall be leading the dance lessons until then.”
Kaldrek’s mouth curved. “She didn’t even ask about the third stage.”