Page 34 of Knot Your Sugar Rush (Starling Grove #2)

Chapter thirty-four

Cam

T he air feels different past the archway.

Cooler, heavier—like we’ve crossed some invisible line into a place that doesn’t quite belong to the rest of the island. I catch myself holding my breath, then force a slow exhale, letting the scents of wet stone and leaf mold settle over me.

The ground dips slightly, the moss giving way to patches of cracked flagstone, edges softened by years of encroaching roots.

“This was a path,” I murmur, crouching to trace the smooth surface beneath my fingers.

It’s slick and damp, and the moment my skin touches it, I get an image in my mind—bare feet on a warm evening, a woman in a pale dress carrying something fragrant from a garden.

Goosebumps prickle along my arms.

Theo’s voice cuts gently into the moment. “You’re right. This leads somewhere.”

We follow the winding remnants of the path until my eyes catch on a jagged silhouette in the distance—stone walls where no stone should be. My steps quicken without me telling them to. The others match my pace, our breathing a little louder now.

The structure comes into view by degrees: first a tumble of stone blocks, then a partial wall, then the curve of what must’ve been a grand doorway, now choked with ivy.

The arch is still intact, carved with the same curling motifs as the one in the hollow, though here they’re sharper, the stone spared from total erosion by the thick canopy overhead.

“This is it,” I breathe. My heart is beating in my throat.

We step closer, and the air grows cooler still, carrying the faint scent of something floral beneath the damp earth—something that doesn’t smell like the wildflowers we’ve passed.

Dane’s gaze flicks to me. “Want to go in?”

I do. I really, really do.

But my feet hesitate on the threshold, because there’s something almost… watchful about the way the ivy stirs in the faint wind.

Jamie breaks the pause with an easy grin. “I’ll go first. I have practice with treehouses falling on me.”

“It was one time!” Theo exclaims.

I laugh despite myself, the sound echoing softly against the stone. “Fine. But I’m right behind you.”

Inside, the ground is littered with broken glass, rusted nails, and leaves in various states of decay. The remains of a tiled floor peek through in places—blue and white geometric patterns that must’ve been stunning when they were whole.

And there, in a beam of light breaking through the roof, something catches my eye.

A cluster of plants, their stems tall and slender, topped with blooms the exact shade described in Zae’s notes: pale as moonlight, with a faint silver shimmer when the light hits them just right.

My breath stutters. “I think… this is it.”

The alphas draw in around me, all of us staring at the flowers as if they might vanish if we look away.

I crouch slowly, letting my fingers hover just above one of the blossoms, close enough to feel the whisper of cool air it seems to give off. My chest aches, but in the best way—like grief and joy have decided to share the same space for once.

“Zae,” I whisper. “We found it.”