Sera's POV
The silence in the square hung thick, but with Gideon’s palm anchoring me from behind, I kept my feet moving. We crossed the cobblestones, heading toward a small, two-story timber shop with a hand-painted wooden sign depicting a silver needle and spool. Soft glass lanterns illuminated the storefront window, displaying bolts of woven wool and tailored tunics.
Gideon reached out, pushing open the heavy glass-paned door. A small brass bell chimed overhead, cutting through the tense quiet outside.
Stepping across the threshold, the rich scents of cedar, pressed cotton, and sweet lavender immediately washed over me. Standing behind the main counter was a woman in her late nineties—an older wolf with soft silver hair swept into a neat braid and warm, almond-colored eyes.
The mome
