Interesting.
Her eyes drifted over me, pausing at the coven key hanging around my neck. She perked up and smiled brightly, almost likeshe recognized me as a witch, and for some reason, she seemed pleased about it.
“You’re not from Falgon, are you?” she asked.
“What gave me away?” I replied with a small smile.
“You don’t recognize me, or you do and didn’t say anything.”
I studied her face carefully, looking for familiarity, but nothing came to mind.
“I don’t know who you are. Are you royalty or something? Shall I bow?”
“No, gods, I’m not royalty. My husband is well known though, and everyone is always watching me, getting into my business because of it.” Her eyes moved over my tattooed arms. “Actually, it's refreshing that you have no idea who I am.”
I nodded, stepping closer, and held out my hand. “I’m Elowyn.”
Her hand slipped into mine, and I caught sight of the scars on her wrists, bare and unhidden. Her forearms were decorated with intricate tattoos. A small sword adorned with flowers ran along her left arm, three skulls with flowers beneath them marked her right. It was beautiful and fierce, and I couldn’t stop staring because it matched mine.
Mine had appeared one day, as if I’d been marked by something I didn’t yet understand. I couldn’t remember a time before it.
“I’m Farris.”
Something about her name tugged at me—familiar, distant, like a memory I couldn’t reach. Her smile was contagious, bright and warm, the kind of smile Ezra used to give me.
“Well, Farris, are you going to tell me why you hate your husband so much?”
She sighed heavily. “It’s a long story.”
“Farris!” someone shouted from the woods.
“Great, speak of the devil.” She groaned, rolling her eyes. “Do you live around here?”
I nodded. “I live just through the trees over there, right by the river.” I pointed to the right. “Stop by whenever.”
"The small cabin near the river? It has a small mural of flowers on the wall?"
"Yes…" I looked at her. "How did—"
"Farris!" Her husband sounded pissed.
She huffed, scooped up a clump of mud, and launched it at the dress with startling precision. I couldn’t help but laugh as she stomped off toward the sound of the man calling her name.
“I look forward to becoming friends.” She grinned over her shoulder before running off.
Farris. Where had I heard that name before?
I lingered for a moment, staring at the destroyed dress still dangling from the tree, then shrugged it off and made my way toward my small cabin. When I stepped inside, a strange ache twisted in my chest—my mind still half-expecting Abram to be there, leaning against the wall, smirking at me like he always did. My body hadn’t caught up to reality yet.
I set down the food I’d bought earlier and forced myself to stay busy. If I didn’t, the silence would swallow me whole and drag me back to thoughts of Abram and his mate, of everything he was doing with her now, everything he used to do with me.
Stop it.Nyxthra hissed.
I rearranged the old flowers I had, but when I finished, the cottage felt too still. Too quiet. Too empty.
I’d spent my entire life surrounded by coven noise and then Abram. I had never known this level of silence. My focus moved to the small flower mural that had been on the wall when I moved in. A field of pink lilies. How had Farris known that was here?
With a defeated sigh, I made tea and stepped out onto the porch. I settled into my rocking chair and watched the sun sink behind the mountains, painting the sky gold and violet. The steam from the cup curled up past my face, but it did nothing to warm the hollow ache in my chest.
