Shadows of the Heart

Chapter Four

The night was clear and glittering with stars, the full moon hanging low and luminous above the camp as if watching over the celebration. Stella and the other girls skipped and danced their way toward the fires, laughter ringing out as misty smoke curled upward into the sky, twisting and fading among the constellations.

Two hogs roasted slowly on iron spits, their skins crackling in the heat. The crisp night air carried the rich scents of smoke, herbs, and roasting meat, sharp and comforting all at once.

“Mmm, that smells lovely,” Poppy said, inhaling deeply before glancing sideways at Stella. “Hey—why was your mum looking so upset earlier? She isn’t ill, is she?”

“No,” Stella said lightly, waving the thought away. “She’s just worrying about the ceremony. About me picking a mate, that’s all.”

She laughed, a carefree sound. “Not that she has anything to worry about. There are slim pickings in our camp, and the boys from the other camps coming tonight aren’t exactly tempting either. I don’t fancy any of them.”

Poppy grinned. “So you’ll be keeping her to yourself for a while, then?”

“Exactly,” Stella said with a giggle. “And anyway, it’s up to my dad to make the final decision—and I know he doesn’t want me married just yet either.”

The camp opened up before them in a blaze of light and color.

Garlands of wildflowers were draped between wagons and trees, lanterns glowing softly as music swelled from the center of the clearing. Fiddles and drums set the rhythm while the girls of the camp danced barefoot around the fire, skirts swirling, laughter and movement blending into something ancient and alive.

The breeze carried the scent of crushed petals and smoke, weaving perfume through the night.

Around the fire, young men sat and stood in loose circles, their conversations quieting as their attention fixed on the dancers. Eyes followed every turn and laugh, anticipation simmering beneath smiles. Tonight, all of them were waiting—watching the flame-haired figure at the heart of the celebration.

Stella danced unaware of the weight of their gazes, her laughter bright, her movements free. Firelight kissed her pale skin and caught her long blonde hair, turning it to gold. In her flame-red dress, she seemed less a girl than a vision—beautiful, radiant, and utterly unaware of the choice she believed was hers to make.

Above them, the moon shone on, silent and unblinking.

And destiny drew closer with every beat of the drum.