Chapter One
The bell above the door chimed softly, and a summer fragrance rushed over me, filled with dried roses, lemon, and crushed mint, along with the sharper tang of something Stella called a focus blend, which smelled suspiciously like black pepper and sage. She’d started making it for me the moment Keegan confessed that his mom had returned.
The shelves along the walls gleamed in the dim light, lined with glass jars of colorful tea leaves and blossoms. Little handwritten labels curled on each one:Moonlit Comfort,Earl of Night,Chamomile for the Truly Doomed.I smiled despite myself. Even with everything going on, Stella managed to change out her seasonal teas.
Stella had outdone herself today. The round table near the hearth was draped with embroidered linen detailed with vines and wildflowers. The centerpiece was a tall glass jar stuffed with sprigs of lavender and rosemary. Candles flickered in mismatched glass holders.
A pot of something rich and spicy steamed on the table. Its aroma curled through the room like a promise, and I needed that desperately.
Nova was already seated, her raven hair falling loose over her shoulders, green eyes sharp even in rest.
Ember glowed faintly in the corner chair, her presence dimmed to a soft gray-green, respectful of the cozy light. I spotted Ardetia perched gracefully with her long fingers wrapped around a teacup, looking as though she belonged in a painting.
Bella sat on the rug, her fox ears twitching every time the bell over the shop door moved with a draft.
And Twobble, dear, exasperating Twobble, was already halfway through a plate of scones. Skonk had returned to his cottage in the UnderSoot to catch up ongoblinthings, as he put it.
Stella herself bustled between us, draping her shawl in a way that suggested she wanted it to be noticed and then pretending she hadn’t.
“Finally,” she said as she poured my cup before I’d even sat down. “You look pale. Tea will fix it.”
“I’ve been told tea fixes everything,” I murmured, sliding into the chair next to Nova.
“By me,” Stella sniffed, setting the pot back down with a clink. “And I’m rarely wrong.”
Nova arched a brow but didn’t argue.
For a few minutes, we let the comfort of the tea do its work. Ember poured herself a second cup, her translucent hands as graceful as ever. At the same time, Ardetia nibbled at a sugared biscuit with the kind of elegance that made even crumbs look intentional. I’d never had that grace.
At times, I thought I wanted to achieve that aura, but being surrounded by it so much is actually exhausting, so I could only imagine what it must feel like to be that proper.
Bella’s tail swished lazily behind her, brushing against my ankle now and then.
It almost felt normal.
Almost.
But then Twobble cleared his throat, scattering food morsels like confetti. “So. Are we going to talk about the wolf in the room?”
“Twobble.” Ardetia warned, sighing.
“I don’t mean literal wolf,” he said quickly, though his eyes darted toward me with something that wasn’t quite a question and wasn’t quite comfort either. “But since Keegan nearly fell on his face the other night and hasn’t gotten up since, I think we ought to…”
“Mind your tone,” Nova said, her voice calm but edgy, glancing at the customers.
“I am minding it,” Twobble protested. “This is me being delicate.”
Stella pressed a fresh cup into my hands before I could answer. “He’s resting, as he should. For once, he admitted something instead of growling through it. That would exhaust anyone.”
Her words warmed me even as worry knotted my chest. The memory of Keegan slumped in the chair, the truth spilling from him like something pried loose, still haunted me.
His mother.
The Silver Wolf.
How many years had he carried that knowledge like a weight chained to his ribs? She and his father abandoned him, abandoned the village, magic, and everything in between.
“He needs more than rest,” Nova said softly. “He needs time.”
