Nash’s pov
My boots hit the wet cobblestones outside the general store, Beta Wylie right beside me.
"What is it, Wylie?" I demanded, my voice tight with an edge of raw, frantic energy. "Did you spot a Red Moon scout?"
"No," Wylie said, his dark eyes wide, his hand pointing toward the timber building adjacent to the apothecary—a large, thriving establishment with a carved oak sign reading Moonlight General Store. "The tavern barkeep down the street... he told me who owns the supply shop next door."
My heart gave a sharp, violent thud against my ribs. "Who?"
"Chloe," Wylie whispered, his voice trembling. "She runs the general store, Nash. She's been here six years."
The world seemed to stop spinning. The quiet chatter of the town square, the rumble of wagon wheels, the cool mountain br
