#70 Scene in the Village
Scene in the Village
Darian POV
The library stall was a fucking goldmine. Tucked under a canopy of glowing vines, with shelves crammed with dusty tomes smelled like old magic and secrets. My blue eyes scanned the spines, fingers itching until I pulled out a leather-bound volume on ancient wards. Its pages hummed faintly with arcane energy.
Argyle rumbled in my head, his wolf voice sharp but curious. “Knowledge is power, but don’t drown in it.”
I smirked, shoving silver hair out of my face and flipping through another grimoire, this one on earth magic, perfect for decoding Mistmoor’s wards. The vendor, an old witch with owl bright eyes named Cressida, watched me closely. “You’ve got a sharp mind, wolf,” she rasped. “Those are rare. Fifteen silver for both.”
“Deal.” I handed over the coins and tucked the books into my bag. She chatted briefly about the Lefren archives, how they’d guarded Mistmoor’s secrets for centuries. “Came in handy against vampires,” she said with a wink. I filed that away, Ryanna would need every edge against Galrith’s bloodsuckers.
I moved on, my boots crunching over cobblestone as the village buzzed around me. Witches argued, kids darted past screeching. The air was thick with community and power. A weapons stall caught my eye, ammo and enchanted blades lined the table.
The grizzled warlock running it, Torric, nodded as I inspected a box of silver-tipped bullets. “These’ll punch through undead hide,” he said, scratching his beard. “Ten silver for fifty rounds.” I bought two boxes, restocking my pistol clips, and we talked shop, him about binding spells, me about tweaking arcane tech.
“You’re with the Moon Bound Queen, yeah?” he asked. I nodded. “Keep her safe,” he said simply. I grunted, slinging the ammo into my bag.
A jewelry stall glittered nearby, gems pulsing faintly with magic. A ruby pendant caught my eye, deep red set in silver, glowing like it had a heartbeat. I pictured it against Ryanna’s skin, and my chest tightened. Argyle hummed. “For our queen. Get it.” “How much?” I asked the young witch vendor, Lila.
“Twelve silver. Infused with passion magic, brings courage.”
I paid, pocketing it quickly. Beside her was a bouquet of moonflowers, white petals shimmering like Selunara’s kiss. “Those too,” I said, adding five silver. Lila wrapped them carefully, chattering about their ritual power.
By the time I headed back, my bag was heavier with books and bullets, the pendant and moonflowers tucked safe. My step was lighter than it had been in weeks.
That’s when Argyle went rigid in my head. “Something’s off.”
A piercing screech shattered the calm.
“RHYDOR AARON VELN, YOU FUCKING TWAT!”
My head snapped up. At the edge of the village, a tall, furious she wolf wagged her finger like she meant to stab someone with it. Rhydor stood rigid, Lucien’s shadows curling around him like knives.
Argyle snarled. “Our brothers need us.” My pulse spiked. I tightened my grip on the moonflowers, my free hand going to my pistol as I rushed over. The crowd had already frozen, watching. Rhydor’s growl was low and lethal. “Fuck all the way off, Belinda!”
Lucien stood solid at his side, silver eyes sharp, shadows twitching like serpents ready to strike. I skidded in next to them, blue eyes narrowing. “What the fuck is going on?” I asked, my voice low and dangerous.
Belinda Voss POV
I strutted through Mistmoor’s pathetic excuse for a market, dark hair flawless, nails sharp enough to gut someone. Every vendor knew my name. Belinda Voss, daughter of the Ironclaw Pack’s head beta. Spoiled? Fuck yes. Deserved it? Absolutely.
I barked at some witch for lavender, paid, and stormed off....only to freeze. A scent hit me. Familiar. Too familiar. CeeCee, my wolf, growled in my head. “Rhydor.”
My heart lurched, rage clawing up my throat. That bastard. We had been betrothed. Arranged when he turned twenty-five, his alpha power too much for anyone lesser. I was perfect for him. Gorgeous, fierce, and born to rule.
And then he vanished. No goodbye. No word. Just humiliation. I’d hunted his sorry ass ever since. And there he was. By the trees, broad and brutal, with some shadow-wielding prick at his side, and another pretty boy holding flowers like a lovesick fool.
Red flooded my vision. I stormed forward, heels digging into the dirt, finger stabbing the air. My voice cut like a whip across the village.
“RHYDOR AARON VELN, YOU FUCKING TWAT!”
The village froze. Witches, elders, even kids, all staring. Perfect. Let them watch.
“You’re my betrothed!” I shrieked. “You disappeared without a word! When are we mating?”
I reached them, my chest heaving, rage boiling. And then I saw it, the mark on his neck. . A mate bond star burned into his skin. My stomach dropped. “No fucking way,” I hissed. My voice cracked into a scream. “Who the fuck did you mate, Rhydor? Some slut mutt?”
I stomped, my fists clenched, nails cutting into my palms. “When my father and our alpha hear about this, you’re done!”
The shadow bastard snorted, silver eyes mocking. “Keep dreaming, lady.” The flower boy stepped closer, blue eyes cold, hand twitching toward his pistol.
I didn’t care. I was Belinda Voss. I always got what I wanted.
And then the crowd parted. She stepped out of a spa tent like some goddess out of a fairy tale. Blonde curls cascading, gown clinging to her curves, makeup flawless, magic sparking at her fingertips.
The whispers started immediately. All eyes turned to her. I sneered, bile rising in my throat. This was her? This bitch? The slut who thought she owned him? Rhydor bowed his head slightly, voice low and rough. “I’m sorry, my queen.”
She nodded like it was nothing, kissed his cheek, her green eyes flashing.
My blood boiled over. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I screeched, stamping so hard dust flew. “You ditch me for this bitch? I’m a Voss! We had a deal! You can’t just mate some random whore and think you’re free!”
The shadow’s power flared, the flower boy’s pistol hand twitched, and the blonde goddess only grinned at me, calm and smug. Like she was fucking untouchable.
And I just screamed louder. I wasn’t letting him go. Not for her. Not for anyone.