Chapter 22 Maren
MAREN
Maren woke alone.
She'd heard Tristan moving around downstairs before dawn, deliberately quiet, like he was trying not to wake her. Or trying to avoid her.
The memory of last night with of his mouth on hers, his hands mapping skin, the heat between them that had felt inevitable until it wasn't came pouring over her as her body grew hot.
They'd stopped before crossing the final line, but barely.
And now morning had arrived with all its uncomfortable questions.
Had it been loneliness? Proximity and stress creating the illusion of connection? Or something real that neither of them knew how to handle?
She climbed down from the loft to find him at the window, already dressed, staring out at snow that had finally gentled to scattered flurries. His posture was rigid, controlled, and he didn't turn when she descended.
"Storm's breaking," he said. "We should be able to move soon."
"Do you think we should talk…"
"I made tea. It's on the stove."
The dismissal was polite but clear. Maren poured herself a cup and retreated to the other side of the cabin, giving him space he clearly needed.
They maintained distance and avoided eye contact. The easy rhythm they'd developed had vanished, replaced by awkwardness that made the small space feel even smaller.
Maren dressed quickly, braiding her hair with fingers that wanted to shake. Her shadows moved restlessly across the floor, reaching toward Tristan before retreating like they sensed the wall he'd built overnight.
"About last night," she tried again.
"We should focus on finding the locket." His voice stayed level, professional. "That's what matters right now."
"Right. Of course."
Tristan's comm unit crackled. He pulled it from his pocket, jaw tightening when he saw the caller. "Emmett."
He stepped outside to take it, closing the door firmly behind him.
Maren cleaned up breakfast with mechanical precision, trying not to think about how his hands had felt on her skin, how perfectly they'd fit together, how her shadows had wrapped around them both like they were claiming something that belonged to them.
The door opened. Tristan's expression had gone carefully blank.
"Bram's calling for a meeting. Says time's up." He moved to gather his equipment, movements sharp with tension. "We need to check in."
"Now? The storm just broke. We can finally get to the lake."
"Council orders. Emmett tried to push back but Bram's got the votes." Tristan shoved supplies into his pack with more force than necessary. "We explain about the weather keeping us locked down, tell them about the locket lead, and hope they give us an extension."
Maren's shadows pressed close, agitated. "They're going to want me bound. Or exiled. Bram's been pushing for it since the beginning."
"Emmett's not letting that happen."
"Emmett's one vote against however many Bram's convinced."
Tristan turned to face her fully. "I won't let them bind you. No matter what the Council decides."
"You can't fight the entire Council."
"Watch me."
The fierce certainty in his voice settled something in her chest even as it terrified her. He meant it. Would actually stand against his own employers, his own community, to keep her safe.
Because of last night? Or despite it?
"We should go," she said quietly. "Before the weather turns again."
They packed in silence, Maren gathering her few belongings while Tristan secured the safe house. Within twenty minutes they were outside, boots crunching through snow that reached mid-calf in places.
The drive back to Hollow Oak took longer than usual. Drifts had buried the path, forcing them to break trail through powder that grabbed at the tires.
Her shadows spread wide, testing the air for any sign of the doppelg?nger. The construct hadn't appeared last night, hadn't tested their wards after that first supernatural assault. Either it was conserving energy or planning something worse.
Hollow Oak looking looked like a snow globe with its pristine white coating everything, icicles glittering from eaves, smoke rising from chimneys into pale blue sky. Beautiful and deceptively peaceful.
"Stay close," Tristan said as they got out. "Don't engage with anyone who tries to provoke you."
"I know how to handle hostile crowds."
"I know. But humor me anyway."
People were out clearing snow, shoveling paths between buildings. Conversations died when they appeared, faces turning to track their progress. Not openly hostile like before, but wary. Watchful. Waiting to see what the Council would decide.
Rufus nodded from the Mercantile doorway. Twyla stood outside the Griddle & Grind, her features creased with concern. Most others just stared, weighing judgment they'd already made.
The Council Hall loomed ahead, its doors standing open despite the cold. Maren's steps slowed as they approached, dread pooling in her stomach.
"Whatever happens in there," Tristan said quietly, "you're walking out. Understand?"
She nodded because arguing would be pointless.
They climbed the steps together. Inside, the hall was warmer but no less imposing. Emmett stood near the front with Miriam, both wearing expressions that mixed concern with resignation. Bram occupied his usual position, satisfaction barely concealed behind professional neutrality.
"Officer Ash. Miss Pitch. Thank you for coming on short notice."
"We were snowed in," Tristan said. "Safe house is two miles out. Storm made travel impossible until this morning."
"So we heard." Bram stepped forward. "Yet here you are, together, after three days with nothing to show for your investigation."
"We have leads—"
"Leads aren't evidence. Leads aren't proof." Bram's pale eyes fixed on Maren. "The deadline was today. You failed to meet it."
"The weather—" Tristan started.
"Is irrelevant. The Council gave you three days. Three days to prove Miss Pitch's innocence. Instead you've spent that time isolated with her, compromising your objectivity, while incidents continue plaguing this town."
"What incidents?" Maren asked. "Nothing's happened since the fountain."
"Because you've been locked away. The moment you return, I suspect we'll see more accidents, more shadow signatures, more fear." Bram turned to address the room. "I move that we bind Miss Pitch's magic pending further investigation. For the safety of Hollow Oak and its residents."
"Denied," Emmett said flatly. "We're not binding anyone without proof of guilt."
"Then I move for immediate exile. She's had two years here. That's generous considering what she is."
"Also denied."
"Then what do you propose?" Bram's voice rose slightly. "We wait for someone to die before taking action?"
"I propose we give Officer Ash the extension he's requesting." Miriam's voice cut through the argumentative male’s. "The weather was extraordinary. No one could've predicted we'd be hit with supernatural storms strong enough to trap people for days."
"Convenient excuse," Bram muttered.
"It's not an excuse, it's fact." Emmett crossed his arms. "Tristan, what's your lead?"
"The Nightwell Locket. A blood-bound artifact from Maren's family line capable of creating shadow doppelg?ngers.
" Tristan pulled out his notebook. "It explains the signature mimicry, the incidents when Maren has alibi, everything.
We believe it's hidden at Moonmirror Lake.
Give us one more day to search and we'll end this. "
Bram's expression flickered. "A cursed relic? That's your theory?"
"It's more than theory. We've documented evidence of artificial shadow signatures, secondary magical resonance that doesn't match natural witch work.
" Tristan held up his evidence samples. "Someone found the locket, activated it using Maren's blood, and has been using it to frame her while the construct grows stronger. "
"And who would have done this?" Bram asked.
"That's what we're still investigating."
"How convenient. Another extension, more time alone with the accused, chasing myths and legends." Bram turned to the other Council members. "I call for a vote. Binding or extension. Let the Council decide."
Emmett's jaw tightened. "All in favor of extension?"
Miriam's hand rose immediately. Emmett's followed. The other three Council members hesitated, exchanging glances.
One hand rose. Then another.
Four to one.
Bram's face darkened. "You're making a mistake."
"Maybe. But it's ours to make." Emmett met Tristan's gaze. "One day. Find that locket or bring me something concrete. Otherwise I can't protect her anymore."
"Understood."
They left the hall quickly, before Bram could mount another objection. Outside, fresh snow had started falling again, gentle this time, almost mocking.
"One day," Maren said quietly. "That's all we have left."
"Then we'd better make it count." Tristan started toward the path that led to Moonmirror Lake. "Come on. We're losing daylight."