Loving Me Will Kill Him

The village bells rang three times. Someone had died. Again. By nightfall, they would whisper Selene Ashcroft's name. The first whisper reached her before sunrise. "...another one." She paused outside the small cottage, the basket of freshly picked moonflowers hanging from her arm. The morning air smelled of damp earth and pine, but beneath it lingered something heavier. Grief. Voices drifted through the trees. "It happened while he slept." "My wife said his heart simply... stopped." "Poor Martha." "And that girl was seen near his house yesterday." Silence followed. It always did. Then came the sentence Selene had heard so many times she could almost mouth the words with them. "Perhaps the curse chose another." She closed her eyes. Not again. She hadn't even spoken to Old Bram. She had only left herbs outside his door because his knees had been troubling him. He had thanked her through the window. Now he was dead. The basket felt heavier in her hands. She forced her feet forward. Because grief did not stop for accusations. And funerals still needed flowers. The village square overflowed with mourners dressed in shades of gray. No one greeted Selene. No one met her eyes. She walked quietly toward the wooden platform where wreaths had been placed around Bram's coffin. An elderly woman struggled to lift a large arrangement of white lilies. Selene stepped forward. "Let me help." "I've got it." The reply came too quickly. Too sharply. The woman hugged the flowers against her chest as though protecting them. Selene lowered her hands. "I'm sorry." She stepped back. One step. Always one step. The habit had become so natural she no longer noticed herself doing it. Another villager brushed past without a word. A child pointed. "Mother..." Small fingers tugged at a sleeve. "Is that the cursed girl?" The child's mother looked horrified. She hurriedly lowered the tiny hand. "Don't stare." "But—" "I said don't." The child obeyed. Curiosity disappeared. Fear took its place. Selene pretended not to notice. Pretending had become another habit. She knelt beside the platform instead. One by one, she placed the moonflowers around the coffin. Old Bram had loved moonflowers. He used to tell her they bloomed brightest because darkness never frightened them. No one else remembered. She did. A tear landed silently on one white petal. She brushed it away before anyone could see. "Thank you." The voice was so soft she almost thought she'd imagined it. Bram's widow stood beside her. Thin. Fragile. Her eyes red from crying. "For remembering his favorite flowers." Selene offered a faint smile. "I remembered." The older woman reached out. For one impossible heartbeat... It looked as though she intended to squeeze Selene's hand. Instead... She hesitated. Fear flickered across her face. Her hand slowly fell back to her side. "I'm... sorry." Selene's smile never broke. "It's all right." It wasn't. But if she admitted that aloud... It might finally break her. The funeral ended beneath a sky heavy with silver clouds. People left in quiet groups. None walked beside Selene. She had grown used to watching conversations end when she approached. She had grown used to eating alone during festivals. She had grown used to hearing laughter stop behind her back. Some wounds stopped bleeding. They simply learned how to ache quietly. As she crossed the square, a sudden scream shattered the silence. "Run!" A horse burst from between two market stalls. Its eyes rolled wildly. Its reins whipped uselessly behind it. The wagon it pulled bounced violently over the uneven stones. People scattered. Someone fell. Crates exploded across the road. Then Selene saw her. A little girl. Frozen. A flower crown clutched tightly against her chest. The horse was almost upon her. No one could reach her in time. Selene ran. Not because anyone expected her to. Not because anyone would thank her. She ran because the little girl was afraid. That was reason enough. She threw herself forward. Wrapped both arms around the child. And pushed with everything she had. They crashed onto the hard stones just as the wagon thundered past. The wheel scraped against Selene's shoulder. Pain burst through her body. The flower crown spun high into the air before landing several feet away. For one heartbeat... Everything became still. Then crying. The little girl sobbed into Selene's dress. "I'm sorry," the child hiccupped. "I couldn't move..." "It's okay." Selene gently brushed dust from the girl's hair. "You're safe." Footsteps pounded toward them. The girl's mother dropped to her knees. "Oh, thank the Moon Goddess!" She pulled her daughter into a desperate embrace. Relief flooded her face. Until she looked at Selene. Recognition replaced gratitude. Her expression changed so quickly it felt like watching a door slam shut. She gathered the child closer. Farther from Selene. "The curse..." someone whispered. "She touched the girl." Another voice answered. "What if it spreads?" The mother stood abruptly. Without another word... She carried her daughter away. The little girl twisted around in her mother's arms. "Thank you!" The words echoed across the square. Her mother walked faster. Selene remained kneeling where she'd fallen. Blood soaked through the sleeve of her dress. No one noticed. Or perhaps... They chose not to. She slowly stood. Her shoulder burned. Her knees trembled. She bent to retrieve the crushed flower crown. One white petal drifted away on the wind. She stared at it until it disappeared. "Even flowers don't stay," she whispered. "They do." The voice was deep. Calm. Certain. Not afraid. Selene looked up. A tall man stood at the entrance to the square. He wore a black traveling cloak fastened with a silver wolf crest she had never seen before. Behind him stood six warriors. Each one broad-shouldered. Disciplined. Deadly. The villagers bowed immediately. Selene didn't. Not because she was disrespectful. Because she didn't know who he was. The stranger's silver eyes settled on the blood staining her sleeve. Then they lifted to meet hers. There was no disgust. No pity. No fear. Only quiet attention. As though, in a square full of people... She was the only person he could see. A ceremonial horn echoed across the valley. Once. Twice. Three times. The Moon Ceremony had begun. One of the warriors stepped closer to the stranger. "Alpha Lucian," he said quietly, "the council is waiting." The title struck the square like thunder. Alpha. Selene's breath caught. The most feared Alpha in the northern territories... was looking directly at her. And for reasons neither of them could possibly understand... He couldn't look away.