Page 88 of Innocent Until Proven Witch

I obey, because for once, she's absolutely right.

I find Reina near the center of town, and the moment I spot her, I know something is wrong—not because of the bond, but because of her face. She looks terrified. People have already begun gathering around her, some listening, others arguing, while several council members stand nearby watching the spectacle. Aldric is nowhere in sight, and that fact bothers me immediately.

Relief flashes across Reina's face when she sees me, then disappears beneath urgency.

"Finn," she says.

I push through the crowd toward her. "What happened?"

Her eyes search mine. "The attack already started."

The words hit like a hammer, and several nearby townspeople overhear instantly. The crowd begins murmuring, questions spreading faster than the fear that follows them.

I grab her arm gently. "Where's Aldric?"

"I don't know," she says, frustration sharpening her voice. "I saw him." She gestures toward the harbor. "He knows exactly what's happening."

The certainty in her tone chills me more than the words themselves.

The crowd keeps growing, conversations dying out one by one as people stop to listen. A council member finally steps forward, his expression more annoyed than concerned.

"What's going on here?" he demands.

Reina turns to face him immediately. "Aldric is responsible."

The crowd falls silent. The councilman blinks, then actually laughs, a sound that nearly makes me growl.

"You've finally lost your mind," he says.

Reina takes a step forward. "I know about the relic."

The crowd reacts at once—confusion, concern, curiosity tangled together. The councilman folds his arms.

"What relic?" he asks.

"The one Aldric has been using," she says.

The murmurs spread faster now, and I glance around, sensing something wrong beyond the argument itself. My wolf has gone restless and uneasy, the feeling crawling beneath my skin until I stop listening to the conversation entirely and focus on my surroundings instead.

The square. The harbor. The sea. The town.

Then I notice the dogs. Several animals barking wildly, not with ordinary noise but pure panic. One nearly breaks free from its owner's grip while another pulls hard against its leash. A horse rears suddenly near a merchant wagon, and the crowd gasps at the sight. When I look upward, birds explode into the sky by the hundreds, fleeing rather than migrating.

My stomach drops. Animals always know first.

The pressure in the air shifts, the sensation crawling across my skin from the sea and the wind alike. Everything feels wrong.

I step forward. "Everybody listen," I call.

Some obey. Others don't, so I raise my voice louder.

"Listen to me," I say again, and that finally gets their attention. The square quiets just enough.

I point toward the harbor. "The animals are a sign, trying to tell you something."

Several people glance around, only now noticing the barking, the panic, the fleeing birds, and fear begins spreading through the crowd in earnest.

The councilman scoffs. "Oh, please."