Not Jessica, northe witches, and most definitely not Binky, who would probably organise a tactical intervention involving emotional support knives.
No, this conversation needed to happen quietly. Before the others decided Spencer was the enemy and accidentally started a magical war in the town square.
Which meant she was going solo…
Dawn arrived, cool and pale, over Krakens Hole. The town still slept as Edith slipped quietly from the Hollow, pulling her coat tighter against the morning chill.
No one stopped her or noticed her, which as good and meant she was still a little stealthy. Ha, take that, Binky.
The streets were empty save for the occasional gull and the distant sound of waves against the harbour. The early air smelled of salt and rain. Edith’s stomach twisted tighter with every step toward the park. Because now that she was actually doing this, it felt a littleabsurd.
Meeting a bounty hunter alone at dawn? Her survival instincts seemed to be questionable and Jessica would definitely kill her… that’s if her family didn’t do it first.
The sky above the bay glowed soft gold and lavender as she climbed the hill toward the park. Wind curled through the trees, stirring fallen leaves across the path. Everything felt too quiet and too still.
Edith slowed slightly as the swings came into view. They were empty. The old climbing frame stood near the edge of the park, rusted slightly from years of sea air. Only a figure stood beside it, tall, in a dark coat with their back turned towards her. Relief hit instantly, sharp enough to almost hurt.
Spencer.
Of course he wouldn’t turn immediately. He had that whole dramatic quiet-person energy constantly happening. Edith rolled her eyes softly despite herself as she approached.
“You know,” she called quietly, “for someone trying to build trust, mysterious dawn meetings aren’t helping your case.”
No response… Edith stepped closer and still nothing.
A flicker of unease moved through her chest. “Spencer?” she called out.
The figure finally turned,and Edith’s blood ran cold.
Spencer. But not Spencer. He had the same face and the same build and the same dark hair, yet she recognised him now as the other brother, his twin. She could see every difference.These eyes were colder, harder, with no hesitation in them, and they lacked warmth.
This one was not Spencer, it was Mark. Fear prickled down Edith’s spine as he smiled, there was something about it that made her instincts recoil instantly, not because it was cruel. But because it was empty.
“Well,” Mark said softly. “You came alone. That was easier than expected.”
Edith stepped backward immediately, and every nerve in her body screamed to run away. Instead she stood her ground.
“Where’s Spencer?”
Mark tilted his head slightly. “He’s a little busy.”
Lie, of course it was a lie. Edith knew it instantly.
Her pulse thundered painfully now. “You forged the note?”
“Not personally. My handwriting’s terrible.”
Edith took another step back, ready to turn and leg it back to the hollow, back to her found family. Her heartbeat roared in her ears.
Then avoice called frombehind her, smooth and amused, “Oh, I wouldn’t do that.”
Edith spun instantly andfelt her stomach drop straight through the floor. The gold-eyed stranger stood behind her, near the swings, hands tucked casually into the pockets of his dark coat. Watching her like she was something fascinating. Those unnatural golden eyes gleamed in the pale dawn light.
Edith’s mouth went dry because she recognised him now. Not from Krakens Hole, but from home.
No. No no no…
The male smiled slowly. “Ah,” he said softly. His gaze swept over her like he already knew exactly where she would break. “There is my fiancée.”
