Lila
The morning began like any other over the past two years.
A pale sun crawled through the clouds, spilling faint light across the counter as I ground feverfew into a fine powder. The scent filled the apothecary, warm and sharp against the cold seeping through the shutters.
Kael was sorting jars on the back shelf, humming tunelessly, and the kids were building towers of wooden blocks by the fire.
It should have felt ordinary. Safe. Instead, the air hummed with anticipation.
At first, I thought it was the storm outside. The wind dragging its teeth across the roof, but then the sound sank inward, vibrating through my chest instead of my ears. The pestle slipped in my grip.
Do you feel that? Ruby’s voice slid through my mind, clear and startled.
I froze.
The hum grew stronger. It
