A Werewolf's Unexpected Mate-Chapter 98: Fragile Moments and Lingering Shadows
•Heron’s Shop•
[Ace’s POV]
The shop smelled overwhelmingly of dried spices and sweet fruits, a comforting aroma that clung to the wooden shelves. While Heron and his apprentice gathered our order, I examined the wares—rows of dried fruit chips (banana, sweet potato, jackfruit and cassava) arranged neatly in woven baskets. Handcrafted items hung from the ceiling: hats, slippers, and bags all made from sturdy abaca fibers. Jars of herbal teas and ground spices lined the back wall.
A rustling drew my attention. Ovelia had picked up a wide-brimmed hat, her fingers tracing its intricate weave before placing it on her head. When she turned to me, the afternoon light filtering through the window caught in her hair.
"It suits you," I said, unable to suppress a smile. Her cheeks bloomed pink. She ducked her head, the hat’s brim obscuring her face—but not before I saw the smile tugging at her lips.
Nearby, Mrs. Melinda pressed both hands to her mouth, her shoulders shaking with suppressed delight. On Ovelia’s shoulder, the fairy clearly struggling not to raid the food displays, his tiny fists clenched as he eyed the jars of candied tamarind.
"Sorry for the wait!" Heron called as he emerged from the back room, arms laden with packages. His apprentice followed with more. "Twenty of each food item, and ten household goods as requested." The older man’s hands trembled slightly under the weight.
The apprentice, a freckled boy no older than fourteen, nodded eagerly. "We’ll load your wagon, sir."
"Thank you," I said, reaching for my coin purse.
Mrs. Melinda approached Heron, patting his shoulder affectionately. "You never disappoint, Heron." 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚
Heron’s chuckle crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Customer satisfaction is my duty." He hesitated, then turned to me. "Do you know a man named Philip? Chief Gareth sent me a list earlier—said it was Philip’s order."
So that merchant had been stocking up. "Yes, he’s traveling with us."
Heron nodded. "With your permission, I’ll add his goods to your wagon as well." At my nod, he and his apprentice began loading the supplies.
Ovelia carefully returned the hat to its hook, her movements reluctant. As we stepped outside, the golden afternoon light washed over us.
[Ovelia’s POV]
The wagon creaked as it began moving, the fairy quickly darting back into my dress pocket. Ace sat at the front, his strong hands holding the reins with practiced ease.
"Mrs. Melinda," I said, tracing the intricate weave of my new basket, "thank you for showing me Heron’s shop." The memory of vibrant textiles and spice-filled jars warmed my voice. "Seeing all those handmade things... it felt like discovering a treasure chest."
The fairy peeked out from my pocket, nodding enthusiastically even though Mrs. Melinda couldn’t see him.
"It was my pleasure, dear," Mrs. Melinda replied, her smile reaching her warm brown eyes. "Nothing brings me more joy than seeing you smile like that."
I leaned against the wagon’s wooden side, watching the familiar village scenery pass by. As we drew closer to the inn, a heavy weight settled in my chest. We were truly leaving this place that had become so special.
Suddenly, I felt Ace’s hand ruffle my hair playfully. "Cheer up," he said, his voice softer than usual. "We’re still here in the village. Enjoy every moment we have left." His thumb brushed my temple as he withdrew his hand.
His constant efforts to lift my spirits today made warmth spread through me, easing some of the sadness.
The wagon came to a stop, revealing the inn’s familiar facade. Several other wagons already stood in front—one filled with unconscious bandits, others loaded with sacks of recovered items and metal scraps.
Mrs. Melinda shielded her eyes against the sun. "Hmm, looks like everyone’s preparing to leave,"
Ace scanned the area, his silver eyes sharp. "They’re visiting the graves first," he said, pointing toward the small cemetery not far away.
My fingers found his as we dismounted, the fairy burrowing deeper into my pocket. Mrs. Melinda fell into step beside us.
•Graveyard (Thunoa Village)•
The cemetery air smelled of freshly turned earth and wild rosemary someone had planted between the graves. Fifteen wooden crosses stood in neat rows, their surfaces still pale where knives had carved names. The sight made my throat tighten.
"This is cruel..." I whispered, my voice barely audible. The pain of those left behind—the friends and families of these victims—was almost tangible. I knew that loss all too well.
"These are all travelers killed by the bandits," Mrs. Melinda explained quietly, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.
"Chief Gareth is so kind to give them a proper resting place," I murmured, touched by his compassion.
Beside me, Ace clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. "If only I’d noticed something was wrong with those supply shipments sooner—"
"This wasn’t your fault," Philip interrupted, his usual cheerful voice now solemn. "Thunoa Village falls under Amethyst Kingdom’s protection. The responsibility lies with us." His blue eyes held deep regret.
After a moment of silent prayer, everyone bowed their heads respectfully.
Ann suddenly appeared before me, her black eyes unusually bright. "Lady Ovelia!" she exclaimed, pulling me into an unexpected embrace. I returned the hug, surprised by her uncharacteristic display of emotion.
"Ann, I’ve never seen you so affected," Ace observed, his tone more curious than mocking.
I was confused—Ann had always been gentle with me. But when I looked into her eyes, I saw tears threatening to fall. I’d never seen her like this before.
"It’s just—" she began, then stopped herself, shaking her head as if to dislodge unwanted thoughts.
"Whats all this about?" Shin’s dry voice cut through the moment. "The merchants have all ready left."
Chief Gareth rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "And there’s no sense dwelling in sadness. The departed wouldn’t want us mourning forever," he said, trying to lighten the mood.
Then I noticed the fresh wound on Ray’s cheek. "Ray, what happened?" I asked, concerned.
Ray touched the injury casually. "Just a scratch. Nothing to worry about," he said with his usual easy smile.
"The werewolf hunters did that," Colt spat, his usual good humor absent.
The words struck like a physical blow. Lady Firera’s rage flared hot in my chest, curling into fists as I remembered—werewolf hunters had killed my parents.
"Werewolf hunters," Mrs. Melinda said darkly. "Though human themselves, they specialize in killing, enslaving, and auctioning werewolves."
If they were only targeting werewolves, why did they kill my parents? Could such cruel people truly be human?
