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.

accident that had just been waiting to happen. It was the only way to explain why the building had

Peter, Betty

knew that it had been my scream–my agony–that had brought the place down. That somehow, I had tapped into some divine, ancient entity inside of me when I had screamed. It was as

earth.

public. And more palatable for my own

eyes so hard at my mate’s stubbornness that it

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Chapter 209

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could feel the flicker of amusement through our mate bond, a quiet chuckle echoing through our

of fabric swatches to sort, Tina was helping my mother with cleaning the place, and Avis was processing a steadily growing stack of orders–which had been coming in nonstop since Nightfall had been

fashion, and were making up for it by supporting their local businesses. Nature really was healing

corner, 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. She was pointing at words on the page, and although he wasn’t speaking

one told him exactly what happened with the factory, of course. We’d just told him

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

is,” Tina declared as she rolled up a bolt of silk

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

fell quiet for a moment, Eliza glaring daggers at Peter Joseph, for his part, seemed too busy mouthing out

mind wandered.. My eyes kept drifting toward the still–empty storefront across the street, where that ‘For Lease‘ sign was still on display. I’d been gawking

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

savings. I’d decided 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

in

blinked, my vision dissolving as I snapped back

far–off stare,” she said with a grin.

my cheeks warming

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