Once outside the store, I shut the door behind me and feathered the red cloak around my shoulders. I glanced left and right, the hair on my nape shifting. No signs of the guardians. Time to collect wolfsbane. I’d do this fast, as it was still midday, so I’d be back before the sun went down. But why couldn’t I move? Mr. No Pants’ words still whirled through my mind. I hadn’t closed up shop when Grandma had died. And I hadn’t been scared or run away when the townsfolk had protested that I performed the devil’s work. All because I had insisted herbal teas could cure certain illnesses. Thankfully, the priestess hadn’t demanded an investigation or trial. Regardless, a guy who’d lost his trousers to wolves wasn’t scaring me.

Grandma used to say having a soft heart in a cruel world meant you had courage, not weakness. And that motto had gotten me through the months after losing her and inheriting her shop.

Ahead of me, sunlight kissed the tops of the enormous beech trees with moss growing on their trunks, yet I rubbed my arms, fighting the chill that had settled in my bones. Brown and green hues covered the field, and a dirt track snaked toward the forest thirty feet away.

With a glance back, I waved to Santos through the window as he continued packing the tobacco pouches. The bag over my shoulder bounced against my side in rhythm with my stride.

Trees surrounded me as I stepped into the forest. The sky vanished, and a red-crested woodpecker hunted insects across branches. The squirrel dashing up a trunk stopped and stared at me. Cute. A few leaves tumbled from overhead, and everything about the landscape reminded me of home. Safe. Familiar. Even a gurgling brook hummed in the distance, whispering in my ears. Grandma used to take me out hiking and hunting as a child, teaching me how to live off the land, and all about the freedom such a life offered.

Still, the earlier niggling concern about the wolves in our woods coiled in my stomach. I drew my cloak tighter around me and quickened my pace. The air grew still, broken only by the occasional birdsong. Woodsy smells calmed me, but regardless, the pestering uncertainty remained, demanding I return home.

But what about Bee? If giving her wolfsbane meant she got paid and could help put food on the table for her and her father, then nothing was stopping me.

My steps sped down the sloping land. The dried foliage beneath my boots gave way, and I lurched backward, yelping. I snatched a low-hanging branch and pulled myself to my feet. “Crap!” I’d slipped down this hill before and worn bruises for weeks.

In the valley, a small creek gurgled, and the sun’s heat beat onto my shoulders. Using the stepping stones, I hopped across, captivated by the pine smells.

Up ahead, the abundant trail of herbs came into view in a path dividing the woods and drenched in sunlight. The line of wolfsbane spanned the entire border between Terra and the Den, where wolves lived. People had sowed the vegetation to deter the canines from coming into our land decades ago. The line of plants reached my armpits and was crowded with long, dark violet flowers, each shaped like a helmet. Others were yellow and more potent.

A crunch of twigs caught my attention to my left.

I flinched and twisted around, expecting a deer, but nothing was there. “Stop being a chicken.” Everything moved in the forest, from animals to vegetation. But when Mr. No Pants had run from the wolves, had they leaped over the wolfsbane and follow him? Unlikely because they hadn’t done so for years, so why risk getting sick now? It made no sense, and wolves were nocturnal, so they’d be hunting at night, not during the day. Geez, relax.

With a deep exhale, I turned back to the shrubs and glanced past them to the trees in the region called the Den. The wolves’ homeland. The forest stood thick like soldiers ready for war with the sun barely penetrating the canopy. Each time I visited this location, I swore someone watched me. After all, I lingered near the border between our two territories. The wolfsbane kept them at bay… Yet my pulse banged in my veins as if I had made a mistake.

Refusing to think about anything else, I dug into my bag and plucked out the fabric gloves before sliding them on to avoid getting wolfsbane on my skin. Broken skin or wounds absorbed wolfsbane poison for both humans and wolves, but it killed wolves, while it made people very ill. I also took out the pouch where I stored the wolfsbane to keep them separate from my other herbs.

Okay, time to get started. I yanked the first plant out of the ground and dusted soil off the roots. A snap at the base and I tossed the top part of the flower down, as I only needed the roots. With a single thought, I called my energy and the faintest crackling of power sizzled down my arms. White sparks leaped from the tips of my fingers, through my gloves, and curled around the tuber. I placed the root into the bag and gathered three more from various spots to avoid thinning out the barrier in one area. Two to go. Bee always insisted on six for her spells, but since I was here, I might as well stock up my supplies. I trailed along the shrubs, searching out the yellow ones amid the hundreds of purple flowers, when a loud creak sounded somewhere near.

I froze.

Then someone shrieked.

I rocked on the spot and squeezed the bag in my hands. What was that?

Branches and leaves thrashed in the breeze, grating and rustling.

Another screech. Louder. An animal in distress? With my belongings packed up, I threaded my arms through both bag straps and trailed to the sound. Yeah, the opposite of what I ought to do, but the noise would haunt me for weeks if I didn’t do anything about it. I pictured a hurt deer with a broken leg caught in a hunter’s trap. I couldn’t bear to see any animal hurt and would heal them if possible.

Or was a wolf attacking them?

I halted, chewing on my cheek, and removed my gloves, stuffing them into my bag. What should I do? I rushed forward and stopped again, swinging my gaze from side to side. Which direction was it coming from? Home was on the left.

Another scream, definitely a human wail. I darted right, targeting whoever was in trouble. Had wolves cornered someone?

Rushing closer, I spotted movement between trees in the distance. A man was on his knees, and another person whipped him. The victim cried, and I couldn’t take another breath.

What’s going on? I slid the knife out of my boot and crept nearer, using the enormous trunks to conceal my approach.

The weeping echoed, leaving me covered in goose bumps. I pressed my back against a tree twice my width, my heart racing as I listened to each dull whack. Every whimper and screech.

I peered out from behind my hiding spot. At least fifteen feet away stood a thin and lanky person dressed in black from neck to toes, complete with gloves. In her hand, she gripped a branch stripped of leaves and spiked with offshoots. I squinted for a better look, only to get a glimpse of her face: a long pointy nose and jagged cheekbones, along with thinned lips twisted into a grin.

The priestess?

Hair black as the night was pulled into a tight ponytail. When she smiled and brought down the weapon across the poor guy’s back, I cringed. In front of townsfolk, she presented herself as a lady, who at sixty years old, needed a hand climbing the steps to her podium. Yet I’d heard rumors of her torturing people. Then again, all kinds of lies circled about her from mating with aliens to bathing in milk most nights. Okay, maybe the last one wasn’t that far-fetched, but at every monthly town gathering, others spread more gossip. So I didn’t pay attention to them. But…what if they were right about the priestess? Grandma would always say there was no smoke without a fire when unpleasant things were said about someone.

Farther behind her stood at least ten people crouched over shrubs. What was going on?

“Will you disobey me ever again?” The priestess’ high-pitched words pierced my ears.

I stood cemented. I had to leave without making a sound. For all I knew, this was some kinky sex act. Gross.

“Get back to work. Anyone else have an issue with touching wolfsbane?” she called out.

I stiffened at her last word. Why were they handling the plant? I mean, sure, I had for a legit reason, but the priestess didn’t endorse magic or herbal healing. Was she collecting the stuff to create poison? Did I misunderstand something? Right, like her whipping a worker with a branch.

Unable to stop myself, I peeked out once again at the priestess. I had to see what the others were doing, as it could explain why Mr. No Pants had gotten attacked by wolves. I mean, I lived away from town, and if danger was near, I had to defend myself.

Darting from one trunk to another, I happened upon her again, watching over the ten people dressed in black. Each wore gloves and mouth masks. They carried full-grown wolfsbane plants across the current shrub border and headed into the wolves’ domain. They entered the dark woods everyone was forbidden to visit. I gasped, at once pressing a hand over my mouth for making such a loud sound, and snapped back behind the tree.

What were they doing?

The crunch of a twigs came from behind.

I spun back around. A guardian had approached from farther away, and he’d spotted me.

Sweet mother of pearl.

The beefy man with no hair wore the gray uniform jacket with double lines of golden buttons. He shook a finger at me, as if I were two years old and being scolded by my grandma, and hurried closer.

Dread locked my stomach tight, and I wasn’t sure I could move if I wanted to. I’d heard tales of the priestess locking up people she suspected spied on her. She was a private person and suspected everyone of doing something wrong.

The warrior’s lip curled upward with a snarl, revealing yellowing teeth, and his brow creased as if I’d just ruined his day by forcing him to do his job.

He reached for a long knife on his belt because that was how guardians dealt with anyone. Slash first, then ask questions. They obeyed the priestess’ law and enforced anything according to her orders.

Heavens help me.

I rocked on my heels and swirled around the tree, running to where the priestess and her slaves worked. Sure, Scarlet, go straight toward the person in charge. Adrenaline fuelled my actions, so logic wasn’t part of the plan.

I leaped over a log and skidded across the dried leaves, arms flailing outward for balance. Landing on my backside had me wincing, not because I was helpless, but due to the pure shock of the experience. Fear shackled my heart into a boulder, and I staggered up. I’d end up in a cell with no windows and rats gnawing on my toes. I lunged into a sprint, but in front of me another guardian approached and the same problem faced me from my left. Escape lay on my right. Exactly where the priestess stood.

She turned toward the commotion—me.

I whirled on the spot, terror gripping me, and Grandma’s voice sang in my head. Something about facing problems when trouble hit. How running away was not the answer. But admitting defeat was the worst decision.

My thoughts swung back and forth between giving in and explaining it was a mistake to escaping before I got thrown into prison. The priestess would suspect I’d witnessed her entering wolf territory, which was forbidden, even for royalty like her. Hell, she’d once punished a man who’d stumbled across her in the woods during her morning stroll. The victim had mysteriously vanished a few days later. Yep, everyone knew that if you kept your distance from her, you’d be safe. But now, I swore I’d witnessed something I shouldn’t have.

“Get her,” she barked.

Foliage crunched underfoot nearby, and a current of wind swept past, tossing foliage into the air. A large flock of birds chirped overhead, fluttering out of the trees in fright.

Sorry, Grandma. I darted in the priestess’ direction, angling around her.

Her mouth hung open, eyes widening with shock.

Our gazes met, her nose wrinkling, and an involuntary growl rolled through my chest. Where had that come from?

Clearly, just the sight of her mouthing my name, Scarlet, had me acting all primal on her. She had visited my store before, searching for a relaxing tea concoction as she’d called it. Her voice had been like a viper’s strike when she’d stormed inside, and I’d sworn she had been about to order my arrest. But weeks later, I’d learned she loved my tea. Now, I doubted she’d be so understanding. Not when I’d spied on whatever she was doing.

“Stop her!” the priestess roared.

I careened around her, out of her reach. A torrent of air sliced past as she swung her branch to whack me.

None of her workers moved. But a strong scent of perspiration like I’d never smelled before smothered my senses, along with something metallic-scented. A worker bent over a shrub and the gashes crisscrossing his back stood out, blood seeping from the cuts. Crap!

My adrenaline soared as I charged toward the section where the wolfsbane grew, unsure where I was going, and why I’d decided this was a good decision. I thundered through the bushes, stomping them, and sprinted into the forest to where I’d seen others carrying the plants.

Inside the Den’s woods, an eerie silence engulfed me, and chilliness bit into my flesh.

“Get her now!” the priestess yelled. “I want her caught.”

Everything about today rolled through me. Basically, I kept making mistake after mistake.

Guards bulleted straight after me. I darted past more workers, who stared at me with frightened expressions.

I ran. Ducking under branches. Leaping over evergreens. Weaving left and right to shake my pursuers. I never should have gone for wolfsbane. Or stuck my nose in. Or hung around after seeing the priestess whipping a person. Now, I’d be lucky to survive the day.

Around me, trunks blended into the grayish backdrop. Where was I? But I had to escape and work out a solution to my problems later.

Two guards still chased me, their heavy breaths labored, so I hooked a sharp left where the land sloped downward, speeding my pace. No stopping. No slowing down.

On my next step, I hit a dip and the toe of my boot snagged onto a dead branch. My world shuttered as the ground came rushing toward my face. I slammed down, the air thrust out of my lungs. I rolled down the side of the hill, screaming. Leaves and twigs poked my back; rocks stabbed my sides.

Next thing I knew, I was airborne and for those few seconds, I gawked at the sharp cliff I’d just flown off.

“Oh, shit!” I pin-wheeled my arms, falling fast.

My screams faded in the rush of air crashing against me, ripping at my clothes, my hair.

I hit the water.

Iciness sank its fangs into me, freezing me at the core. Air bubbles rushed over my face. Tightness clamped around my lungs, squeezing them from the lack of oxygen. I thrashed my legs, not ready to die.

When my head broke the surface, I panted for air, waves splashing me in the face as the current carried me downstream.

The river sprayed in my face, and I dog-paddled, swallowing a mouthful. A sudden electric charge buzzed through me. I convulsed, my head bobbing beneath the current.

Time vanished fast, and panic hammered against my ribs. No one would ever find me and everyone would assume I’d gotten eaten by wild animals. But when the pinpricking sensation returned to my legs, I thrust them through the water, rising toward the sun-specked surface and gulping at the air.

Trees crowded the edges of the rapids on both sides, but my thoughts numbed as I battled the waters. A boulder rose out of the waves. I reached out and latched on to it, my fingers digging into stone, my legs wrapped around it.

Each inhale shivered on the way to my lungs, and the coldness lapped against me. I stared back to the cliff I’d fallen from, so high, I could have died. But there was no sign of the guardians. Guess there was one bright outcome. Yeah, right. I was lost in the Den.

Yep, great way to get yourself killed, Scarlet. Even if the priestess didn’t imprison me for life, now the wolves will tear me apart. A paralyzing hurt spread through me, and every part of me twitched with the urgency to run, to do something.

Any other place and I’d love the location, the sun basking on my head, the lush greenness, the snow-peaked mountains in the distance. Except I was in a tailspin of trouble.

The priestess would now visit my store and wait for me or worse yet, arrest Santos. I’d landed somewhere in the forbidden territory—the Den—with wolves that apparently warred. Oh, and I was soaking wet and had to get to dry land.

“Wonderful work, Scarlet. What’s next on the to-do list? Killing someone?” I shuddered at the thought. What was wrong with me?

“Okay, first get out, dry off and get my bearings.”

By some miracle, my bag had remained on my shoulders.

I stilled, listening. The hiss of a waterfall told me what I needed to know. Death awaited if I didn’t get out of the river. Nearby, I saw another boulder and yet another ahead, closer to shore. So I inched to the side of mine and kicked off, letting the rippling currents drag me to the next one. By the time I reached the third rock, exhaustion claimed me.

The stream passed me, and the cold cramped my calves. But salvation wasn’t far. My head pounded; every ounce of my body screamed for a timeout. I swam across the river, water sloshing everywhere. Inches away. Almost there.

Pushing farther, I strained my muscles and fought the steady flow dragging me toward the waterfall threatening to swallow me whole.

With every bit of my remaining strength, I took long strokes, fighting the deluge.

When I clasped the lip of the shore, a new sense of vigor struck, but a torrent of water snaked around me, ripping me away from salvation. I yelped and swam harder than ever before. Always go against the current, I’d once been told, so I pushed myself.

The moment I reached the bank, my feet finally found purchase on the ground. “Freakin’ hell.”

I crawled out, trembling, and slumped onto the grassy field encased by lofty pines.

Every inch of me screamed with pain. Above, the sun eased my chills. And when I closed my eyes, I let myself believe I was safe, that I’d find a way home, that my world didn’t balance on a knife’s edge.

The last time I’d felt this lost and alone was when my grandma had died. When my future had seemed bleak. I pictured her smile, the way she’d always pinch my cheeks, then try to feed me six meals a day because I was too skinny. My throat thickened. There was so much I’d wanted to share with her, like how well the store performed, or how my new technique on drying herbs made the whole process faster. Whenever I’d had a problem, she had been my go-to person. My rock. Now… I wiped the tears running down the side of my face.

A deep guttural snarl carried on the wind. Sweet bunnies. I didn’t want to glance up and find a wolf.

I couldn’t remember how to breathe, speak, or move as terror ricocheted inside my skull. Bile rose in my throat. And just like that, my situation got a million times worse.