Chapter 4. Close Call
1012 Words
Selene
The money I stepped outside the apothecary, the weight of unseen eyes settled on me like a shroud. The usual clamor of Moonspire’s outskirts was hushed, the cobblestone seeming to absorb the noise instead of echoing it. I pulled my gloves tighter, wishing the leather could armor me not from the cold but from the knawimg unease twisting in my gut.
Something wasn’t right.
A ripple of emotions brushed my skin— faint, but unmistakable. Not the usual marketable chatter or petty worry. This was deliberate. Focused. Almost predatory.
I froze, my heart racing. There. Behind the row of merchant cart, a shadow detached itself, watching me with eyes too sharp to be casual.
I swallowed, reminding myself: control. Control. The Gift was my burden, but it was also also my weapon — if I could keep it hidden.
Then the shout shattered the silence.
“Stop, thief!”
The cry rippled through the street like a blade. A small crowd burst into motion — merchants dropping wares, children scattering, gaurds bolting towards the commotion.
Without thinking I turned and ran, the pounding of my heart may matching the thundering footsteps behind me.
I dodged through narrowed alleys, branches scrapping my face, my breath ragged, the pulse in my face gloves hammering like a warning bell.
But then, a rough hand clamped onto my wrist.
Shock surged through me, and for a frozen moment, I saw it all— the desperate fear of the thief, tne cold fury of the gaurds, the unspoken tension of the crowd watching.
I yanked free, gloves snapping back on, and didn’t stop runny until the noise faded.
My legs trembled as I leaned against a cold stone wall, trying to will my pulse to slow. The Gift has flared in a way it never has before, like a spotlight on the tightrope I walked every day.
One mistake, one slip— and I would be haunted.
I slid down the walls and buried my face in my hands, tasting bitter tears.
Eric warnings echoed in my ears “some wolves carry storm inside them…”
This storm was getting harder to hide.
I pressed my gloves back onto my palms, feeling familiar comfort of the leather. But the glowing Crescent on my skin beneath it burned hotter.
I needed to be more careful.
By the time I returned to the apothecary, the sky had dulled to the pale grey that came before dusk, when the cold begun to slip into your bones and refused to leave.
Eric glanced up for what he was doing. “You’re late.”
I peeled off my coat and hung it behind the door. “Got caught up in chaos.”
“What chaos?”
“Someone tried to steal from the merchant carts near Hollow Lane. They chased them halway to the river .”
He grunted “Moonspire’s loosing it’s grip. They only parade discipline when nobles are watching.”
I didn’t answer. I could still feel the residue of the forced contact humming in my finger tips.
“How’s your head?” He asked more gently now.
I blinked “What?”
“You look like someone poured wolfsbane in your tea.”
I shrugged “just tired.”
“You’re always tired,” he muttered, but didn’t press.
For that I was grateful
I headed into the back room to sort the remaining herbs, but I’d barely touched a single spring of veteran before the front door jingled.
A voice followed. Male.
I picked through the curtain just as a tall figure swept into view.
He was dressed like a merchant noble—- deep green tunic, trimmed in silver, with polished boots that had never touched dirt. His fave was handsome in a forgettable way.
“I need something for sleep,” he said, voice smooth. “And something to take the edge off pain. Not mine, of course my sister’s.”
Eric nodded “ something mild or strong?”
He smiles faintly. “Strong. But not obvious.”
Most wolves wanted their pain gone — not hidden. Only someone with secret asked for that.
I stepped out just as Eric turned to fetch the jar of dusk root.
The man saw me and smiled.
“Ahh. You must be the assistant Selene, is it?
“Have we met?” I asked.
“No,” he studied me with unsettling ease. “But I’ve heard of you.
“Eric glanced over his shoulder frowning. “She doesn’t deal with customers.”
“I don’t mind,” the man said. “I like to see who touched the herb.”
Something in the way he said touched made the hair in my neck rise.
I forced a polite nod and I turned to retrieve the the wrapped bundle of Lavender root.
“You know,” he said conversationally, “there was a girl who lived there once. Said to be able to sense people’s truths. Some kind of myth.”
I froze.
“Shame she disappeared,” he added “they said they thing made her … unstable.”
He met my gaze directly.
I forced my fingers not to tremble. “Sounds like superstition.”
“Yes,” he said slowly. “But superstition has a funny way of turning out to be truth when you least expect it.”
Eric slam the jar louder than necessary. “Here is your dose take it and go.”
As he turned to leave, he glanced back at me one last time.
“You should be carful, Selene. Moonspire isn’t as safe as it pretends to be.”
The door shut behind him.
Eric looked at the door for a long moment before turning to me.
“Friends in hight places, are we?”
I shook my head “I’ve never seen him before.”
“Then he’d seen you.”
“No idea.”
That night I kept hearing his voice.
“You should be careful Selene.”
Carful.
I had been carful my enter life.
- Writer
