7. Lucy #3
He circled the counter and came to stand before me, chocolate hair perfectly combed to one side, blue suit flawless, the faintest hint of old tattoos along his arms peeking from beneath his cuff.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“You’re the woman everyone’s talking about. Tavian’s rescue.” His green eyes dropped to where my hand still pressed against the collar. “That’s beautiful craftsmanship. May I?”
I should have said no. Should have left. Should have run back to the Keep and locked myself in that stone room until whatever was happening to me went away. But the trinkets all around me? Jewelry. And the Ossira… was a necklace.
I stepped closer. “Please. Have you seen anything like it before? I know others have them, but this one specifically?”
He studied the collar without touching it, tilting his head to see the markings from different angles as he leaned back to rest against the counter. “I’ve never seen runes quite like these.”
My throat went tight. “I seem to have fastened it too tightly. Do you think you could help me and remove it?”
His brows knit together. “I’m not sure.”
But he reached for it anyway, and the sound he made when his fingers met the metal was somewhere between a curse and a shout as he reeled backward, clutching his hand to his chest. The collar answered in kind, cinching against my throat with a heat that stole every bit of air I had, and for three very long seconds I was reasonably certain it was going to take my head clean off my shoulders.
Then it eased. Just enough.
“What in the demon’s hell was that?” he breathed, staring at his hand.
I pressed my fingers to my throat, willing my voice to work. “I’m so sorry. That’s never happened before.”
“For Furies’ sake, don’t let anyone else touch that cursed thing.” He placed his finger in his mouth to cool the burning. “That can’t be a regular Ossira. Bloody fucking thing.”
“Again, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it would do that.”
His eyes narrowed on the marks, or maybe the jewel. “I have texts. Old ones written just after the last Burning. I could look into it if you’d like. Come back in a few days?”
Every warning bell in my mind was firing, and I knew better than to ignore them.
I’d survived long enough to know that strangers who offered help were usually offering something else underneath it.
But I’d also just nearly attacked a woman in broad daylight without a single conscious thought to blame for it, and the damn collar around my throat had just burned a man for touching it, and the warning bells, however loud, were losing ground to the more pressing reality that I was running out of options I understood.
“Sure. Yes, I could do that.”
“I’ll just need your name for the ticket, dear,” he said, pulling out a small notebook from his jacket pocket.
“I’m Lucette. Lucette Varrow.”
He didn’t even flinch. I’d never get used to having no reaction when someone heard my famous surname. But that name didn’t mean anything here.
“Nice to meet you, Lucette. I’m Baylor, resident jeweler and collector of fine things.” His smile was easy and genuine. “I’ll see what I can find out about Ossira lore.”
“The runes seem different from what I’ve seen. Maybe keep your eyes peeled for that, if you don’t mind.”
His head tilted to the side as he examined the necklace one final time. “I’ll see what I can find.”
I left before he could look too closely and realize this was too dangerous for him to get involved with. Walking back through the streets felt colder now. Emptier, like the city knew what I’d almost done to that woman even though I had no idea.
The Keep loomed ahead. Stone and shadow and the room waiting for me at the top of too many stairs.
They looked longer than they had this morning, which wasn’t possible, and yet my legs were already negotiating with me about the climb ahead.
I gripped the railing and told myself I was fine.
Told myself it was nothing. Told myself I’d wake up refreshed and go back in a few days.
Baylor would have answers and everything would make sense.
But as the sun beyond the mist sank toward the mountains, something shifted.
The collar warmed. Not the sharp burn from before. Something deeper. A slow pull that started in my chest and spread through my limbs like poison.
My feet moved.
Not toward my room. Back down.
The streets blurred past. I wasn’t choosing this. Again, wasn’t controlling my own body. My legs carried me toward the edge of the city, toward the fog, toward the place where Luneth Hollow ended.
I tried to stop.
If you touch the wall, you’ll die.
Stop. Furies. Stop yourself, Lucy.
But I couldn’t.
The last sliver of sun touched the mountains.
The light disappeared.
The shift took me before I could blink.
Wings tore from my back and I was rising, passing through the fog like it was never there.
There was only the hunt. There was only the Ossira’s command. There was only scanning the dark skies for prey.
And Lucy, the woman who wanted to go home, who asked a stranger to remove her collar?
She was gone.