Chapter 269

Audrey

“Edwin, I swear to the Goddess, if you tear those stitches again-

“I’m fine,” Edwin grunted as he lifted the heavy wooden sign over his head, his muscles straining with the effort. Sweat beaded at his temple despite the crisp autumn breeze, and through the bond, I could feel the throb of pain that he was clearly trying so hard to hide.

I crossed my arms, watching him warily from the sidewalk as he balanced on the ladder, looking way too confident for someone who had been stabbed less than two weeks ago.

“You were stabbed through the chest,” I reminded him pointedly. “Less than two weeks ago. There is nothing ‘fine‘ about this.”

“Audrey’s right,” Gavin called up from where he stood, holding the ladder steady. “I could’ve done this myself, you know.”

But Edwin, of course, just shook his head, that familiar stubborn set to his jaw as he focused on securing the new sign above Avis’s shop window. The fresh paint gleamed under the morning sun, the words Avis’s Tailoring standing out in elegant golden script.

“Seriously, I’m fine. This is the least I can do,” Edwin muttered, his breath hitching slightly as he tightened the last bracket. “And for what, exactly?” I asked, crossing my arms tighter as I glared up at him. “For nearly dying?”

He ignored me, his jaw clenching as he carefully descended the ladder. “After everything with Nightfall-”

“Which wasn’t your fault,” I interjected quickly, but Edwin kept his focus on the sign, as if finishing this one small task was somehow going to make up for the chaos that we had all endured.

Gavin and I exchanged glances as Edwin worked. He’d been blaming himself with the Nightfall situation–claiming that if he had just done something to stop Black from ruining the market’s natural balance in our territory, that Avis’s shop and so many others never would have suffered.

Of course, none of us believed that it was his fault. And even if we had somehow kept Nightfall from starting business here in Crescent, Black would have just gone elsewhere. The only way to handle that whole mess was to stop it at the root.

Which we had.

Atticus Black was dead. In the days that followed the disaster, his body–along with many of the others who had worked for him–had been uncovered from the rubble. No one mourned him, nor did they mourn that awful business of his, half of which had been swallowed up by a sinkhole.

the explanation we went with: a sinkhole. A freak accident that had just been waiting to happen. It was the only way to explain why the building had crumbled like that, at

between Edwin, Peter,

ancient entity inside of me when I had screamed. It was as if, during the moments that I’d felt my mate’s life slipping away, all

earth.

sinkhole theory, though, was much more palatable for the public. And more palatable

my mate’s stubbornness that it almost hurt. “Fine. Tear your stitches. See

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Chapter 209

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amusement through our mate bond, a quiet chuckle echoing through our Mindlink, as I turned on my heel and headed inside the little bell above the

a mountain of fabric swatches to sort, Tina was helping my mother with cleaning the place, and Avis

fashion, and were making up for it by supporting their local

I spotted Eliza sitting in the plush armchair we had brought down from the apartment, Joseph curled up in her lap as she read to him.

much life had returned to his eyes in just a few weeks. No one told him exactly what

from her paperwork as I approached. “Orders are up thirty percent from

up a bolt of silk that had come undone. “Not

room. “Yeah, nothing says ‘soulless corporate nightmare‘ like

his part, seemed too busy mouthing out the words ‘teddy bear‘ on

wandered.. My eyes kept drifting toward the still–empty storefront across the street, where that ‘For Lease‘ sign was still on

I knew what I wanted to do, I could see it so clearly in my mind–a boutique, large windows filled with my designs. Every purchase would mean something more, where profits would flow back into the community, into charities, into helping people

to start online first, making and selling my designs from home, until I saved up enough to buy a shop of my own. But that place would likely be snatched up before I had the chance,

Tina suddenly nudged me in the ribs. “You’re

blinked, my vision dissolving as I

stare,” she said with a grin. “Like you’re planning

it off, but I could feel my cheeks warming under my friends‘ knowing

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