Wynne's POV:
A soft, misty rain fell over Riverbrook as early summer arrived.
The wet stone paths glistened under the haze, and the air smelled sweet and fresh.
I sat outside my shop, holding a fine carving tool, carefully shaping a pattern of winding flowers onto a silver bangle.
Fortune, a golden retriever who had wandered into town and become mine, lay at my feet, fast asleep.
A gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of oak trees through the air. This quiet, simple life felt like a deep, long breath I had finally been able to take.
Then Fortune lifted his head and gave a low, quiet growl. I looked up and followed his gaze. A black umbrella stood at the edge of my walkway.
It lowered slowly, and I saw his face, thin, pale, and worn. Killian.
He wore a well-tailored dark sui
