CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The brooch’s artistic merit was undeniable and Freya was certain it would have stood out among Mr. Shepherd’s other wares: the crosses, shield-emblems and burnished crow-shaped pendants displayed each week at market. He was a true craftsman, renowned throughout the village for his Celtic-themed work. She had once commissioned him to make their wedding rings: modest gold bands each sporting a single diamond.
But she had glimpsed the hungry horror inside them all and instead felt only revulsion for the beautiful object in her pocket, which seemed intent on nurturing that nascent wildness. So she sought to return the borrowed brooch to its rightful owner, because it was both the right thing to do and because she wouldn’t have it in her house a moment longer.
Stepping out
