Which meant if he did his job right, he'd be standing between Maren Pitch and every person who thought they knew better.
His tiger stirred restlessly, uneasy with the weight of what was coming.
"Yeah," Tristan muttered into the cold. "I know."
But liking it didn't matter. The job mattered. Keeping people safe mattered.
Even when they didn't want to be saved.
He emerged from the woods near the town square. The Griddle & Grind glowed warm in the distance, and for half a second he considered stopping for coffee. But duty pulled harder than comfort.
Tomorrow he'd start surveillance.
Tonight, he'd prepare for everything that could go wrong.
4
MAREN
Maren needed bread, candles, and salt. Basic supplies that required venturing into Hollow Oak's square during the busiest part of the day.
She'd rather face her shadows gone feral.
The morning sun hung pale and cold over the town, turning snow to diamonds and ice to mirrors. Maren pulled her cloak tight and kept her basket tucked against her hip as she walked the main street. Her shadows stayed pressed close, barely visible in daylight but present enough that people noticed.
They always noticed.
The Hollow Mercantile stood first on her route. Maren pushed through the door, bells chiming overhead. Warmth hit her face along with the smell of dried herbs, wood polish, and something baking in the back room.
Rufus Tansley looked up from behind the counter, his rugged features neutral. "Morning."
"Morning," Maren said quietly. "I need salt. The coarse kind."
"Back shelf, left side."
She navigated the narrow aisles, aware of two other customers who'd stopped browsing the moment she entered. Their whispers carried despite their attempts at discretion.
"—asking questions about her?—"
"—Council met last night?—"
"—can't be coincidence?—"
Maren found the salt and carried it back to the counter. Rufus rang it up without comment, which she appreciated more than he probably knew.
"Anything else?" he asked.
"Candles. White, if you have them."
He pulled a bundle from beneath the counter. "These work?"
"Perfect."
"Three silver."
She counted out coins, fingers steady despite the continued whispers behind her. Rufus bagged her purchases and handed them over with a slight nod.
"Stay warm," he said.
