Chapter 20
Spencer knew this was a bad idea, that alone should have stopped him and yet it didn’t.
From where he stood beneath the trees, he watched Edith sitting on the swing, her trainers brushing lightly through the grass as she moved slowly back and forth.
The wind toyed with her hair constantly, purple strands catching sunlight in flashes of silver and lilac that made it look almost unreal.
Everything about her felt unreal, honestly, and not because she was magical. He had met countless magical beings.
No, it wasn’t that, it was the way she occupied space. Almost like she was trying very hard to seem smaller than she truly was, and Spencer understood that instinct far more than he wanted to. Below him, she let out a soft sigh, staring out over the bay.
“I can’t go back.” The words carried clearly on the wind. Spencer’s jaw tightened slightly.
Because there it was again. Not defiance but fear, real fear. The kind people carried in their bones.
That was when he should have walked away. Gone back to the Ferret’s Mott and told Mark, made a plan to finish the job cleanly before things got any more complicated.
Instead, Spencer stepped forward, the gravel shifting faintly beneath his boots.
Edith went still instantly. The swing slowed, then it stopped. Her shoulders stiffened before she turned sharply toward him. Spencer stopped a few feet away, careful not to crowd her. Because she looked one wrong word away from either bolting or setting something on fire.
Possibly both.
“Before you threaten me again,” he said evenly, “I thought honesty might work better.”
Edith stared at him. Then her eyes narrowed slightly.
“Spencer? Isn’t it?” she stated.
The sound of his name on her lips hit him far harder than it should have and something deep in his chest reacted instantly. Which was deeply inconvenient, but he ignored it with years of practiced professionalism… Mostly.
“You know my name,” he observed.
Edith snorted softly. “You’re bounty hunters, not mythical cryptids. People talk.”
Spencer slipped his hands into his coat pockets, keeping his posture deliberately relaxed. “My brother and I were hired by the Smokeclaw clan,” he said plainly. “We were told to locate the missing heir and return her home.”
There, straight to the point, no games, no pretending. Edith stared at him for a long moment.
The wind tugged at her hair again, pushing strands across her face, she didn’t move them and also didn’t look away. The silence, for the first time ever, made him a little uncomfortable.
Spencer expected denial, what he didn’t expect was for her to look him dead in the eye and say,
“I know.” She sighed “I’m the heir.”
Spencer blinked and tilted his head. Well, that was unexpectedly efficient.
Edith folded her arms tightly across her chest. “And before you start,” she continued fiercely, “I’m not going back, so you can piss off.”
Spencer stared at her for half a second longer than was socially acceptable. Because honestly? He had prepared for lies and excuses and a possible chase, definitely not this tiny furious woman sitting on a swing, openly admitting she was the target of the largest bounty he’d ever accepted.
“You’re very direct,” he said eventually.
Edith gave him a flat look. “You’re very annoying.”
“That seems premature.”
“You followed me.”
He shrugged as the silence once again stretched briefly between them.
The wind rolled across the cliffs again, carrying the scent of salt and spring flowers from somewhere nearby. Spencer studied her carefully, she looked angry, scared, and tired all at once. But there was something else too… relief. Like finally saying it aloud had loosened something inside her.
Edith kicked lightly at the ground, setting the swing moving again in small, restless motions.
“So,” she muttered. “Now what? You try and throw me over your shoulder dramatically? Drug me? Tie me up?”
Spencer’s expression sharpened slightly. “How do you know about that?”
Edith barked out a humourless laugh. “Because I know my family.”
That landed harder than he expected, making Spencer frown. “They actually told you that?”
“They told you that,” Edith corrected. “Violent. Unstable. Dangerous if cornered?”
Spencer didn’t answer immediately, because yes, that was exactly what the brief had said.
Edith shook her head once, bitterness flashing across her face. “Funny how women become ‘unstable’ the second they stop obeying.”
The words settled heavily between them and Spencer’s instincts twisted sharply again. The whole thing felt increasingly wrong.
Edith looked away from him then, gaze drifting back toward the sea below. “I won’t go back there,” she said quietly.
Spencer watched her profile carefully. “Why?” he asked.
Edith laughed softly under her breath. Not amused, just done. “Because they sold me.”
The wind seemed to still for a moment. Spencer’s jaw tightened.
Edith kept talking before he could respond.
“They called it an alliance, obviously. Sounds prettier.” Her fingers tightened around the swing chains. “But it was still selling me to a male with an aggressive reputation towards women because his clan had strong bloodlines.”
Something cold settled low in Spencer’s chest.
“He hurt women,” Edith continued flatly. “Everyone knew it. No one cared.”
Spencer went very still.
“And when I said no?” Edith smiled faintly, though there was no warmth in it. “Suddenly I was selfish. Emotional. Difficult.” Her eyes flicked toward him then. “I ran because staying would’ve killed me eventually,” she said simply.
Spencer held her gaze and quickly realised that she believed her words wholeheartedly. No dramatics, no emotion, just cold, hard facts, like she had accepted it a long time ago.
The swing creaked softly as she shifted. “So,” Edith said, voice sharpening again as if she’d revealed too much, “there’s your answer. You found me. Congratulations. Gold star for Spencer.”
Again… His name from her mouth did something deeply unhelpful to him, he ignored that too, but it took some effort.
“You’re assuming I’ve decided to take you back,” he said carefully.
Edith blinked and frowned, an action he found himself liking. She clearly hadn’t expected that, then suspicion flooded her expression immediately.
“That sounds like a trap.”
“It isn’t.”
“You’re literally a bounty hunter.”
“You have a point.”
Edith narrowed her eyes at him and Spencer exhaled slowly, looking out over the bay briefly before speaking again.
“I took the job because the money was enough for my brother and me to retire,” he admitted. “At the time, it seemed straightforward.”
“And now?”
Spencer looked at her, really looked at her. At the tension she carried constantly and at the exhaustion hidden beneath the sarcasm, and he answered honestly.
“Now I think your family lied to me.”
Edith went quiet and the wind shifted again, softer this time. Above them, hidden within the trees, Fate smiled faintly while Baba Yaga muttered,
“Oh, this is going to get messy.”