CHAPTER ONE
Faelan
Iwas no stranger to new towns.
I had unpacked my things in more villages than I cared to count—most of them quaint, remote, and filled with locals who squinted at outsiders as if deciding whether they were worthy of their trust. But Loren Brae was different. Already, I’d been welcomed, and was even on my way to making a few new friends, which made me wonder just what, exactly, was going on in this town.
For one, the last vet had fled.
People in Loren Brae didn’t talk about it directly, but I’d overheard enough murmurs while ordering a blackberry scone from the bakery that morning to piece together the general story. Dr. MacAllister had barely handed the keys off to me before he’d disappeared. Not just from the practice, but from the town as well. No warning, no goodbyes.And the way people talked about it—with uneasy glances and hushed voices—told me it wasn’t because of an overdue tax bill or scandalous affair.
Something strange had sent him running.
Which was why I was standing outside the empty clinic, a simple stone building tucked on the shores of Loch Mirren, wondering what I’d gotten myself into. It wasn’t in my nature to borrow trouble, instead I typically ran from it as much as I could. But I’d barely had one day with the prior vet to go over any outstanding files and patients before he’d hightailed it from town. Unease prickled, and I glanced behind me at the loch, where the waves tumbled across the surface, tipping over into white caps.
It had been a week since Dr. MacAllister’s departure, and I’d hit the ground running. The office itself was no more in order than the day I’d stepped through the door, thinking I’d have time for an easy transition as I was introduced to the people of Loren Brae. Instead, I’d been left with a stack of files, no receptionist or assistant, and a flood of patients coming through my door.
Today I’d come downstairs early, hoping to get a handle on the medicine inventory so I could place an order if needed. It seemed the only way to get this office into shape was if I did it myself while the clinic was closed. The practice had come with a small flat above, with a separate entrance, and I’d been grateful for the package deal. This was my first time officially owning my own practice, and for the thousandth time, I hoped I hadn’t made a mistake in moving to Loren Brae.
“All right, then,” I muttered, fishing thekeys from my pocket and pushing the door open. “Let’s get your life sorted.”
The scent of old wood, herbs, and just a whisper of something sharp and metallic greeted me. The place was cozy—a reception desk covered in stray dog hairs, a small exam room with an oak table, a surgery and recovery room, and a large storage closet filled with supplies.
And curled up on the counter, watching me with unsettling intelligence, was a fox.
I frowned. “Now how did you get in here?”
The fox’s ears twitched, its golden eyes locking on mine. Then, with an almost lazy motion, it lifted its head and let out a soft chuff—less a warning, more a cry for help.
A chill ran up my spine. It wasn’t the first time a creature had looked at me like that.
I set my bag down and stepped closer. “You’re hurt, aren’t you?”
The fox shifted slightly, and that’s when I saw its front leg, tucked awkwardly beneath its body. I didn’t need an exam to tell it was broken.
But I could mend it.
I glanced at the front window, making sure no one was watching from the street. Being a newcomer in a small town meant all eyes were on you, and I’d learned long ago to try to fly under the radar as much as possible.
I leaned forward, reaching out a hand, slow and steady. “I won’t hurt you.”
The fox didn’t move at first. Then, as if sensing the truth in my words, it exhaled—a small, weary sigh—and let me touch its injured leg.
I brushed my fingers over the break, a breath catching inmy throat as the fox’s pain flickered through me. Magick unfurled beneath my fingertips, warm and soft, a golden thread through the air.
Bones whispered their alignment, sinew stitched itself back together, and beneath it all, the fox’s heartbeat slowed, its pain easing. I exhaled, and the world settled.
The fox stretched its leg, testing the weight. Then, just to be dramatic, it hopped onto the reception desk and flopped down, tail flicking over the paperwork like it owned the place.
I winced. “Sure, go ahead, make yourself at home.”
The fox yawned, utterly unbothered, and I just shook my head as I found a bowl to fill with water and slid it in front of him on the desk. After he drank, he lifted his head and met my eyes.
Understanding passed between us.
“I see you, Faelan.”
My eyebrows winged up as I studied the fox, tilting my head. Eriska, my mother, who’d insisted I call her by her first name as witchy women should, had always told me my familiar would find me. But none had yet joined me, even though Eriska had foreshadowed it would happen one day in a town most powerful.
