#p: ulfric haakonsson

[divineluce]

Grounded || Ulfric & Luce

Location: Al’s diner

Timing: May 26th, 2020

Tagging: @big-bad-ulf and @divineluce

Description: Luce and Ulfric have a less than successful heart-to-heart. More of a guard-to-guard.

With a tired smile at the waitress who led them to their booth, Luce took a seat on one side, the material of her jeans sliding against the vinyl. “Thanks for lunch,” She said with an attempt at her typical grin and a flick of her hair over her shoulder. “Consider us working towards getting even.” As they sat there for a moment, Luce stared at her hands, at the small triangles tattooed onto her middle fingers. The alchemical symbol for fire. Her fire. She hadn’t really sat down to think about what had happened in the woods with the blue flames that had erupted from her hands. But, ever since that morning, she’d been unable to conjure up any other kind of flame. Her power hadn’t been diminished-- if anything, it was a stronger, hotter flame. But, the blue remained, no matter how she tried to channel the energy. Realizing that she’d just been staring at her hands for a while, Luce cleared her throat and looked across the table at her boss. “I hope those wards haven’t had to be put to use yet.”

It had been awhile since Ulfric had been to Al’s, not since before he’d found out Celeste worked there. But he missed his old haunt, and he’d grown accustomed enough to the former hunter’s presence that it wouldn’t be enough to stop him from enjoying his favourite lunch spot anymore. “You’re welcome, I know we’ve got a long way to go.” He replied, sinking into the familiar worn leather booth across from Luce. “Not yet fortunately, purposely or accidentally.” He assured her, the map she’d drawn out had made sure of the latter. He wanted to say something about her drawn out pause, and even more about her disappearance. It wasn’t like her, she’d always had a wildness to her that he appreciated, but she’d never just blown things off like that. He fiddled with the napkin dispenser absentmindedly, unsure how to bring it up, they usually stuck to banter not earnest heart-to-hearts. “The jewellery your sisters set us up with has come in handy, though.” He continued after a moment, thinking that was a logical, neutral topic to follow the one she’d brought up, and one that might provide some insight into if there was something going on with her at home. “I still need to think of a way to properly thank them.” 

“Damn right we do.” Luce responded, though the words lacked her usual warmth or joking tone. She was just… going through the motions. It was all she could do to try and maintain the cocky bravado that usually came so easily to her. Now, in the wake of… Bea’s death? Her emotions were raw. She was exhausted, physically, mentally, emotionally. Weariness had settled into her bones, into the very core of who she was. But, she had to stay strong. Strong for Nell, for her only sister. “I’m glad to hear that.” She said with a nod. Running her hands over the laminated tabletop, she traced shapes onto the surface with her fingertip. Geometric patterns, wards, meant to call forth an inferno of flame and heat and death. But, without her pouring power into it, she was just drawing invisible designs onto the table. At the word “sisters,” her finger came to an abrupt halt, her blood running cold. Doing her best to recover, she wiped a nonexistent crumb off the table before nodding. “Yeah. I’m glad they could help. Don’t-- don’t worry about it. You don’t need to thank them.” She said, hoping her voice didn’t catch on the word “them.” There was no them. There was only her and Nell.

“Sure, I don’t have to, but I’d like to,” Ulfric countered, noticing her stammer. He probably could have picked up on an increased heart rate too if he’d been listening, but it would be rude to invade her privacy that way, when he considered her a friend. “Occasionally I do feel like being nice to someone just because I want to, it isn’t alway about being professional or… whatever else.” He vaguely alluded to the deep sense of pack loyalty he figured she was now at least a little aware of. “I just thought you might be able to give me intel on what kind of things they like, so I don’t send them something embarrassingly cliche like a crystal ball, or something.” Perhaps he was pushing the topic a little, but he did genuinely plan on sending them a proper thank you gift soon. A waitress carrying a pot of coffee strode past and he waved her down, to refill both of their cups. “You look like you could use some,” He suggested, hiding concern behind the light ribbing. “You never told me what you were drinking that night, anyway? Seemed like strong stuff.”

Luce’s lips pressed together in a tight lipped line as she glanced from her boss out the window of the diner. Outside, she could see people walking down the street. The sun was shining, there were birds flying from roof to roof of the various buildings, the flowers were in bloom. Further down the road, she could see a mother and her daughter walking down the road, hand in hand. A lump formed in her throat. She and Nell had decided not to tell their mother what had happened-- how could they? How could they tell her that kind of news, over the phone, when she was half a world away? Ulfric’s words filtered in through her thoughts and she let out a surprised chuckle. “Yeah… Maybe no crystal balls.” Swallowing, Luce nodded as she looked at the tabletop again. “Nell likes plants, she keeps a greenhouse. Something for that would be nice. Bea… candles. Candles are always good.” She said, forcing the words out as quickly as she could manage, as though the less time she spent thinking about them, the easier it would be to say. “Coffee sounds good.” She said with a polite nod and quiet thank you at the waitress who poured her a mug. “Uh… whiskey. Just whiskey.” Just lots of whiskey.

Ulfric smiled at Luce’s chuckle, glad that whatever was going on that she didn’t want to show, he’d still brought her a little amusement. “That’s much better than anything I would’ve come up with on my own,” he thanked her sincerely for her suggestions, making a note to pick out stop by the market on the  weekend to pick something out for them both. Ulfric muttered thanks to the Waitress as well, and reclined further back into his seat, staring into his coffee and making every effort to sound casual as he asked, “And what was the occasion? Did your mime self ask you for a second date?” He joked, thinking maybe she’d let slip a bit more if he leant into keeping things light and humorous. “You know, the last woman I went out with actually ran away from me. Not that our outing counted as a date,” He clarified, taking a long sip of black coffee. “But, clearly I could benefit from some pointers from an expert.”

“Yeah. Yeah, no problem.” Luce managed with a nod as she poured creamer into her coffee and watched as blooms of light brown appeared in the mug of dark coffee. Stirring it with her finger, she didn’t even feel the way the heat burned against her skin. Instead, she just lifted the mug to her lips and took a drink. This was… normal. This was fine. She could hold it together for lunch with Ulf. She could do this. The coffee was scalding, but the bite of pain was a welcome relief to the numbness that had consumed her over the past four days. “No, nothing that fun and exciting. Just the… usual.” She said with a weak grin. Ulf had thought she’d just… cut loose for the weekend. She couldn’t blame him. She didn’t usually text him that she wouldn’t be in for work, not unless she was absolutely trashed after a night of debauchery and excess. The mention of Ulf’s own “not a date” situation felt like a buoy in the midst of a sea and she latched onto it as enthusiastically as she could. “Oh really? How’d you manage that one, huh? You didn’t try and convince her to try some pickled herring or something, did you?” She asked, doing her best to play up the teasing nature of her words. She could do this, she could make it through lunch. 

“Hmm,” Ulfric hummed skeptically at her non-explanation, eyes narrowing slightly over the coffee cup at the contradictory state of her. Luce was clean, and dressed in her usual style, but the clothes were decidedly more rumpled than usual. The dark hollows under her eyes spoke of little sleep, and if he looked carefully he could make out various small bruises and scrapes that were reminiscent of someone who’d run through a dense thicket of woodland without wearing protective clothing or having the benefit of supernatural healing. He felt a little skeevy, assessing her in a way he normally reserved for hunters when he was trying to learn their weaknesses. But if he was doing it out of concern, and planned to use the information gathered to make things easier for her than surely a little clue collecting was okay? “It tastes better than you think. There are even sweet versions some people consider a treat,” he defended his national delicacy. “But no, she gave the classic, ‘It’s not you, it’s the smoke monster’. It’s… a long story,” he told her, enjoying the warm response he was getting, even if it was only because he’d given her ammunition to make fun of him with. It seemed like she needed it, since she wasn’t exactly firing on all cylinders. “You had to be there.” 

“I highly doubt that making it sweeter would make it any better.” Luce said, wrinkling her nose, “And this is coming from a girl who grew up eating korkorec, I feel like I really gave it the old college try. There’s just something off about the after taste that I can’t handle.” She said, thinking back to some of the traditional dishes that her mother had fed their family growing up. Which only brought a fresh wave of pain-- Bea had cooked like their mother. She’d cooked with more variety to her dishes, but there had been nights when Luce would come back from a shift and smell her sister’s iskembe corbasi wafting through the house, a bowl of hearty soup waiting for her in the microwave. “Uh huh? The smoke monster? You sure now how to show a girl a good time, don’t you.” She said with a shake of her head and another long sip from her coffee mug. “Maybe, but if you’re out there pulling moves on a lady, I’d really rather not.”

Ulfric shrugged, he would just have to bring another flavor to the Ink Inc. Yule Party this year, then she would change her mind. “There weren’t any moves,” he protested, beginning to regret creating this conversational trap for himself. “But fair enough. Look, I think we’re getting a little off track…” he started hesitantly, downing most of the remaining coffee in one gulp. “I asked you here because I got the sense that you might not be entirely… alright. And that’s alright, if they’re not, I just wanted to know if there was anything I could do?” He sighed, he’d never been any good at these kinds of speeches, it was much easier for him to leap into action than any discussion of feelings. “I know you’ll handle… whatever it is, but if I can do something to make it easier along the way, let me know? I need to work off my debt of favors somehow.”  He thought it might make it simpler for Luce to accept or refuse his help if he said it was for that reason, though as he’d mentioned earlier it wasn’t always about obligation, there was care behind it too. 

“Well, there’s your problem. No moves means no game.” Luce joked but the attempt at easy bravado faded when Ulfric changed the subject. Hands clasping the coffee mug tightly, her shoulders tensed as she waited for the shoe to drop. What was he going to ask? What was she going to say? What could she say? That… that Bea was dead? No. No, she couldn’t… Not here. Not now. But, as he began to talk, his voice soft and compassionate as he tried to offer her as much support as he could, Luce couldn’t help but wonder. If not here, where? If not now… when? And if not with Ulf, one of the people she trusted the most, one of the people she held in such high regard… who? The coffee in her cup began to boil and froth, the sound jolting her from her thoughts. Releasing the burning ceramic cup from her hands, Luce stared at the table for a moment before speaking, “No, things aren’t alright. And I don’t know if they’re ever going to be alright again. But,” Luce took a deep breath before looking at her boss from behind sad, tired eyes, “Thank you. For asking. There’s nothing you can do, but, thank you.” 

Ulfric flinched back quickly, dodging boiling coffee as it spilled over onto the table, but otherwise didn’t call Luce out on it. “Okay, I understand,” he said simply instead, swallowing any disappointment that he wasn’t able to be of more service after she’d been so helpful dealing with the Bennett situation. Whatever was affecting her it wasn’t about him. The waitress passed again eyeing the mess. “Sorry, I get clumsy,” he took the blame, slipping an extra tip in with the bill before starting to wipe it up with a fistful of napkins. “No harm in asking, right? See you back in the shop as usual tomorrow?” 

Watchng the way he flinched back, Luce mentally kicked herself for losing control like that. She shouldn’t have lost her cool like that. Grabbing some napkins, she also began to sop up the boiling liquid, not at all bothered by the heat. “Thank you. Really,” Luce said quietly as she cleaned. “It means a lot to me, that you’d offer to help. Means a lot to… my family. But, this is something I have to handle myself.” She said before shutting her mouth as the waitress came by. Typical Ulf, taking the fall for her. What a guy… He deserved to have someone better working for him. As Luce gathered up the coffee soaked napkins into a pile, she glanced over at him. “Yeah. I’ll be there.” She’d be there for Ulfric. She couldn’t let him down. She’d already let down so many others, she couldn’t drop the ball here too. “Bright and early.”

[theskyeandsea]

Shifty Strangers || Ulfric & Skylar

Tagging: @big-bad-ulf

Location: Coffee Plus

Notes: While fueling up on coffee, Ulfric sniffs out another shifter in White Crest.

Ulfric wasn’t usually the type to frequent coffee shops, but after a long restless night of impromptu guard duty he needed some kind of pick-me-up to get through the day’s appointments at the parlor. It wouldn’t end well if he fell asleep with a needle in his hand. The line that waited for him inside Coffee Plus was both a curse and blessing. The former because the longer he had to wait the higher his chances of dozing off on the spot, the latter because it meant a higher chance of avoiding Celeste until she left for work. Though even if she did chances were her scent would still be waiting for him. After just one night, and even with his senses dulled so close to the new moon, it seemed everything in his trailer was contaminated with hunter stench. Hints of it even clung to him somehow, despite the copious amounts febreze he’d sprayed all over himself as soon as he left. 

Taking a spot at the end of the line, Ulfric caught wind of another scent that pulled him out of his funk about his own acquired funk. It radiated from the young woman in front of him, reminding him of the ocean and… blue gatorade? But there was a familiar animalistic undercurrent that provided an instant jolt to his awareness that no coffee could hope to achieve. Not a wolf, but close enough to be comforting after the strange series of events he’d just been through. “Hey,” He tapped her lightly on the shoulder, using the beat before she turned around to face him to scramble together an excuse to talk to her. “Uh... would you recommend anything off the menu here? I’d usually only just go for a black coffee. I’m a creature of habit, you know how it is. But sometimes a change can be nice, right? I feel like trying something different before my shift.” It wasn’t the best or most subtle icebreaker, but hey, he was tired, and if she caught on maybe he could warn her about the beast hunters that were circling over White Crest like vultures. Or at least, he could put off having to face the hunter in his own home for a while longer. 

Coffee Plus was more crowded than usual, which was honestly really good to see. It was cool that so many people in town liked to support their local businesses. And, even though she had her thermos and coffee machine, Skylar had decided to treat herself to a nice Americano from the shop. Waiting in line, she scrolled through her phone, a small frown crossing her face as she realized that Remmy and Morgan hadn’t responded to her. Had something happened? Mmmmm, no, they were probably fine. Maybe they were busy. Maybe the two of them decided to go and enjoy the sunshine, somewhere safely away from the ghost that was threatening Morgan. They were fine. She slid her phone back into her pocket and continued to wait in line patiently. As she waited, Skylar started slightly when someone gently tapped her shoulder. A tall bearded man with tattoos-- had she done something wrong? She didn’t think she cut in front of him. “Hm? Oh, sorry, I really only get espresso here, so it’s really not that different from a drip coffee.” She said, his deliberate intonation going over her head. “But, they use really high quality roasts here, so it should be good no matter what you choose.” 

“Espresso’s not a bad idea. If a shot of caffeine’s what you’re after why complicate that?” Ulfric shrugged, doing his best to hide his disappointment at what seemed to be a rebuff of their shared status. Did she not know what she was? It seemed unlikely, the recently transformed usually carried a much stronger aura of panic around them. If this young woman had recently undergone an unexpected evolutionary upgrade she was handling it remarkably well. Then again her response didn’t seem terse enough for her to be one of those in the self-loathing, deep-in-denial, human-passing crowd.  “Crazy times we’ve been having, huh? With the fish rain and the squid thing,” He decided to try again, after a moment to scratch his beard in contemplation. He had time to kill, and if he ended up making a fool of himself he could always blame the early hour. “You strike me as someone who likes to get out on the water. You know, got a real affinity for the sea? I’m more of a terrestrial animal myself. It’d be good to hear a more informed take on it.” 

“Mhm. And this place does a really nice Americano. I usually make my own coffee and take it into work, but I figured I could treat myself today.” Skylar said with a polite smile, gesturing to the thermos that was tucked into the water bottle pouch of her work bag. Given the amount of caffeine it took to make her feel anything, her coffee habit had really added up over the years. Alain had been right-- the machine and thermos had been a good investment. As the man continued to speak to her, she blinked a little. Why was he talking to her? Not that she minded conversation, or that it was harming anything. She’d woken up early to ensure she had extra time to get from the coffee shop to work with ample time to spare. But… she hadn’t really anticipated having a chat with someone. “Mhm, pretty weird stuff. Between that and the blood puddles and the darkness… White Crest is anything but boring.” She laughed. When his words turned to talk of the ocean, of water, Skylar’s blood froze. “Huh? No, not really. I don’t even know how to swim very well.” She said, confusion bringing out an ounce of truth.

“Huh. My mistake, I guess,” Ulfric sighed, still not entirely convinced that he was wrong. He’d grown very confident in his shifter radar but maybe the lingering eau de hunter was throwing it off? “You smell like someone that would be more at home on the ocean. Not that you smell bad or anything, or that I go around sniffing strangers that often,” He inarticulately apologised, noticing her growing tension every time mentioned the sea. Still, one last shot, then there would be so little time left before Ink Inc. opened that he could justify going straight there and ideally he might even be able to warn her about the escalating hunter threat before she had firmly decided never to talk to him again. “Like I said, I’m more suited to land so I do most of my hunting there but do I like to fish on occasion--” If you could call catching salmon in your maw straight out stream fishing. “And your sc-- something about you seemed familiar, like maybe we had something in common. But if you don’t feel the same I’ll just leave you to go about your business.” The wolf backed off a bit stepping to the side of the line, before rummaging in his pockets for change. “Let me buy you that Americano at least though, for your troubles. ” 

Smell like someone who would be at home in the ocean? What did that mean..? Skylar blinked in confusion as the man continued to speak with her about it. As he continued to talk, her eyes widened. Wait a second, did he? Was he-- Oh god. Rio had mentioned how Hunters who hunted people who changed shapes could sense others. Hand tightening on her workbag, she stiffened. “I-- I guess?” She stammered, trying to figure out how to best deny this. But if he was a Hunter, why would that be something smelling related? She really wished that Rio had told her more about how Hunters figured out who people are. Hunting on land? Fish on occasion? Oh god. He was a Hunter and he’d figured out what she was and he was going to try and take her skin or just actually try and kill him. “I-- No, no, you’re okay. Really, you don’t need to do that.” Skylar said, waving her hands in a slightly panicked gesture.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you,” Ulfric backed away even further, holding up his hands and nodding in acknowledgement towards the barista who had begun glaring at him for harassing their customer. “Nevermind about the coffee,” He conceded, depositing the change he’d got out into the tip jar instead. Turning back to the young woman he then cautioned her in a hushed but carefully enunciated tone. “I just wanted to warn you; There are owls in our bog. Pigs in our forest. There are… I don’t know the American expression but there are a lot of people around town right now looking to do folks like us harm. Take care of yourself, alright?” The wolf moved around in a wide arc around her, allowing her space as he made his way towards the exit of the Coffee Plus, his original purpose for being there abandoned. Clearly he wasn’t going to be much use to anyone until he got some rest, he thought, running his fingers through his hair and letting out a frustrated sigh. Maybe he could find a discreet place in the shop to nap before his first consultation arrived. 

The confused expression on Skylar’s face only grew as the man backed out of the line, tossing his money in the tip jar and then he gave a strange warning. Bog? Pigs? American expression? “I really don’t understand but, you really don’t need to go-- Oh no.” She said in dismay as she watched the man hurry out of the coffee shop. She really hadn’t meant to chase someone off like that, but… she didn’t know what he was talking about. At first, he’d seemed like a hunter, but then he was saying something ominous about owls in the woods? Did that mean he wasn’t one? Turning back to the barista, she placed her order, pausing when they asked her if she wanted anything else. “Um. And a large drip coffee, please. No room for cream.” She added. 

When her drinks were slid across the counter, Skylar hurried out the door and looked around. He was a tall man with a large bushy beard. He was the kind of person who would stand out in a crowd, and the early morning streets of White Crest certainly weren’t crowded. Spotting him, Skylar hurried after him, moving as quickly as she dared with two hot drinks in her hands. “Sir?” She asked timidly after him. “I felt bad that you didn’t get a coffee because of… all that. So, um, please.” Skylar held out the large travel cup.

Ulfric had just finished firing off a quick text to Ariana, ‘Got to rush to work. Don’t be late for school. I’ll pick up food for you + C on the way home’ when he heard the young woman call out to him and pivoted back to her. “That’s nice of you,” he accepted the offered coffee graciously. “Clearly I need it.” He took a long steadying sip. “I’m Ulfric, by the way, that would’ve been a smarter way to start. Here,” He retrieved a glossy business card for Ink Inc from his scuffed leather wallet. “If you change your mind and ever want to talk to someone about, well, changing you can contact me here. Or if you’re ever in trouble,” He held it out in the hopes of exchanging it for the kindly offered caffeine, but if she didn’t take it there was still a chance she’d remember his name if she ever needed it. He was fairly certain he was the only Ulfric in town. “I might be biased but I think we’re safer and stronger if we stick together.” 

When the man held out the business card, Skylar hesitated for a moment. She wasn’t entirely certain what to expect from him-- first he’d seemed like a Hunter, dropping hints about things that he might know what she was, but then… he’d backed off. Given, they were in a public space, but the streets weren’t busy. He could easily just grab hold of her, attack her, without her being able to do anything. But instead, he was holding out a business card and saying something about changing. Frowning, she took the card from him, looking at it briefly. “Ulfric Haakonsson.” She read outloud, her tongue stumbling over the strange last name. “Sorry. I’m not good with unfamiliar names. But, um… what do you mean by that? Sticking together? Do you--” She balked, looking around carefully. There was no one around, at least, no one she could see nearby. “Are you… different?” She asked, not sure how else to frame her question. 

Ulfric grinned as she took the card. Doing one small uncomplicatedly right thing felt like a massive relief amidst the tangled mess of conflicting priorities he’d suddenly found himself in with the Bennetts. “Don’t apologize, that’s my great-great-grandfather Haakon’s fault for sticking us with one,” He waved off her apology, unable to hold in a laugh at her downplayed question. Compensating for still keen but less than peak performance hearing, he glanced along the street to confirm no one was in earshot before answering. “Around the full moon, sure.The rest of the time it depends who’s defining normal. Unfortunately for us those with the least tolerance for things deemed irregular, tend to be the most... well-armed. What about you?” He flipped the query back around on her, encouraged by her apparent curiosity. “Are you saying you consider yourself ordinary?”

When the man-- Ulfric-- let out a laugh, Skylar blinked in confusion. Had she said something funny? She didn’t quite understand why he would be laughing. But, when he mentioned the full moon, her stomach lurched. Werewolf. He was a werewolf, he must be. She didn’t know of any other kind of creature--person, that turned with the full moon. And… that must be how he could tell that she was some kind of creature as well. Because his sense of smell. He could tell what she was just at a glance. Biting the inside of her cheek, Skylar weighed her options. He knew she wasn’t human. She couldn’t lie. She hated that she couldn’t keep it a secret from him. But… if he was telling her what he was, he must be a good person, right? He was honest. And he’d said those kind words, of being stronger and safer together. They were words she’d heard from Ricky, but had been long abandoned. Could she trust this man? Realizing she hadn’t answered, Skylar cleared her throat. “No. Not really,” Her words came out in a slightly halting tone, not sure how to put what she was into meaningful euphemisms. “I don’t always feel comfortable in my own skin. And the sea, it’s where I’m meant to belong. I’m just not always… the best at dealing with it.” She said, hoping he would understand what she meant.

“Well, the world we’re living in certainly doesn’t make it so easy,” Ulfric replied thoughtfully, milling over the young woman’s words for clues that could be matched with what he knew of other shifter species. The mention of skin pointed towards selkie, but the comment about not being comfortable in hers was confusing and a little concerning. The close-knit colony he’d heard about in Iceland frequently returned to sea in their true forms, and he didn’t see putting it off for extended periods could possibly be healthy. Then again the current climate in White Crest wasn’t exactly friendly towards shifter habits. “Maybe it’s best if you lay low for a while,” He added with a hint of sadness. “Hunting season is heating up and they don’t tend to discriminate between one ‘beast’ and the next.” He mimed quotation marks with his free hand to make it clear he didn’t really believe that label hunters had slapped on all shifters and supernatural animals applied to them. “Just keep in mind my offer, alright? If you’re ever finding things too much to handle on your own.”

“No, it really doesn’t.” Skylar agreed, hoping that he understood what she’d meant. Did he realize that she was a selkie? She wasn’t quite sure how else she could make it clear, without just saying “I turn into a seal sometimes.” And this wasn’t quite the time or place to make such a statement. The man’s advice, words about a hunting season, they rang loud and clear. People were out in White Crest, looking to harm them. Looking to hurt people who were… like her. Who could change into things, even if they didn’t really want to. Swallowing, Skylar nodded. “Thanks for the advice.” She said with a nod, though her mind couldn’t help but go to Nic and to Rio and to how they were different. They weren’t just mindless murderers. They were good people, stuck in roles they didn’t quite like either. “I will. I… I might take you up on that.” She offered a small smile. 

“That’s all I can ask for.” Ulfric nodded, understanding why she’d remain hesitant. Unfortunately, there was only so much he could say to reassure her of his trustworthiness in the middle of the street. “Be seeing you around then, maybe.” Returning her smile, he gave a semi-reluctant wave goodbye before continuing in the direction of the parlor. He would just have to hope that the few words of warning he’d been able to give her would be enough to keep her from harm until she did decide to reach out or the problem was permanently, bloodily resolved. The news had undoubtedly added to the weight on the young shifter’s shoulders, and he did feel a small pang of regret for that. But, he concluded, as he arrived at the shuttered Ink Inc. shopfront, a few more blissful moments of ignorance weren’t worth dying over. It wasn’t until he got the heavily bolted shop door open that he realized he’d never got her name or any way to check up on her himself. Faen, he was going to need a lot more coffee.