Chapter 1

Elowen "Ellie" Theren sighed as her blue Prius crested the final hill, revealing the quaint town of Whispering Pines nestled in the valley below. A familiar pang of nostalgia mixed with anxiety stirred in her chest at the sight of the place she once called home. It had been over fifteen years since she last set foot here, and returning now as a widow felt surreal, like stepping into someone else's life.

She had left all those years ago to marry Alistair Rikart, a human businessman, in an arrangement that saved her family's struggling herbal shop. At the time, it seemed a necessary sacrifice. But the marriage proved utterly miserable, an endless parade of cold silences and colder beds. Some days, the only thing that kept her going was the knowledge that Alistair's money ensured her parents could retire comfortably.

When Alistair passed away from a heart attack two months ago, she felt more relief than grief. With him gone, she was finally free to come back to Whispering Pines and reclaim her life. Start fresh.

She shook her head, dispelling that train of thought as her car rolled down Main Street. Best not to get ahead of herself. Too much had changed.

As if to punctuate that fact, Elowen noticed several new shops lining the thoroughfare - a tea house called The Sipping Siren and a shop peddling crystals and tarot cards. But many of the old stalwarts remained. Molly's Bewitched Bakery still stood on the corner of Elm, the mouthwatering scent of her famous lavender scones perfuming the air. And across the way, the Lone Wolf Cafe's neon sign blinked invitingly, no doubt serving up Elsie's legendary coffee and conversations to the breakfast crowd.

Before long, the road narrowed and began to wind through stands of towering pines. She turned down an unmarked dirt lane, the Prius bouncing over potholes as dense forest pressed in from both sides. Then the trees parted to reveal a familiar whitewashed cottage with a slate blue door.

Grandma Iris's house. Her house now.

Unbuckling her seat belt with hands that shook only slightly, Elowen stepped out of the car and took a long, steadying breath of balsam-scented air. Even after over a decade away, the house still exuded a sense of sanctuary. Of coming home.

"I'm back, Grandma," she said softly. "Hope you left some of your feisty spirit behind to guide me."

The key turned smoothly in the lock, and the door swung open on perfectly oiled hinges. She allowed herself a small smile. Trust Grandma Iris to enchant the hinges against squeaking even from beyond the grave.

Crossing the threshold felt like stepping into a memory. Everything looked exactly the same as when she helped Grandma pack up to move into the retirement community outside of Portland five years ago. The same faded floral couch sagged in the small living room, and the same assortment of crystals and dried herbs cluttered every surface. Even the air smelled the same - like sage smoke and lemon furniture polish.

Wandering from room to room, Elowen brushed her fingertips over the back of Grandma's favorite reading chair, the one with the hand-stitched primrose cushion. In the kitchen, a faint ring stained the countertop where the kettle always rested, ready to brew a fresh pot at a moment's notice. She could almost hear the reedy warble of her grandmother's voice, telling stories over lavender tea and ginger snaps...

A sudden creak from the guest room made her jump. Her heartbeat quickened. Was someone else in the house?

"Hello?" she called out, hating the tremor in her voice. "Is anyone there?"

No response.

Sternly telling herself to stop being paranoid, she marched to the guest room door. Just a loose floorboard, that's all. This cottage was older than dirt; creaks were to be expected.

She pushed the door open.

And froze.

Lying face-down in the middle of the floor, limbs askew like a broken marionette, was a body. A man, judging by the size and clothing. He wasn't moving. And from the way his head was twisted...

She clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. Her stomach lurched and she had to lean against the doorframe as a wave of nausea left her dizzy. This couldn't be happening. There couldn't be a dead body in her house. Maybe it was a prank or some sort of sick welcome-home gesture?

But deep down, she knew that wasn't the case. The wrongness of it thrummed through her like a plucked guitar string. Death had visited her home today. Violent, unnatural death.

Stumbling backward on unsteady legs, Elowen fumbled her cell phone out of her purse. It took three tries with shaking fingers to dial 9-1-1.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" a calm, professional voice answered.

"I need the sheriff," she said, struggling to keep her own voice level. "There's a... a body. In my house. I think he's dead."

"What's the address, ma'am?"

Elowen recited her grandmother's address from memory. "The old house off Whispering Pine Lane. Please hurry."

"A deputy is being dispatched to your location now. Are you safe? Is the perpetrator still on the premises?"

"I don't know. I don't think so." She edged further away from the guest room, not taking her eyes off the motionless figure on the floor. "I just got here and found him like this."

"All right, ma'am, please stay on the line with me until the deputy arrives. Can you tell me your name?"

"Elowen."

"Thank you, Elowen." There was a brief pause, then, "I have Sheriff Mallory on the other line, he's almost to your location. I'm going to disconnect now, but he'll be there any second. Just sit tight, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you." The line went dead and she let the phone drop into her lap. The same Mallory from school? Flashes of chiseled features and piercing amber eyes flitted through her memory.

She didn't have long to ponder. Less than a minute later, she heard the slam of a car door outside and heavy bootfalls coming up the porch steps. Two sharp knocks rattled the door.

"Sheriff's department!"

Knees wobbling like a newborn foal, she pushed to her feet and went to let him in. She pulled the door open.

And found herself staring up into the scowling face of Reed Mallory, a face she knew almost as well as her own once upon a time. Fifteen years had only made him more devastatingly handsome, sharpening the angles of his cheekbones and adding a few faint lines around his eyes. His hair was different too, cropped short on the sides, but still the same rich chestnut that always made her fingers itch to run through it.

"Ellie?" he said, his scowl melting into open shock. He reached up like he might touch her, then caught himself and dropped his hand. "I didn't know you were back in town."

"I just got in," she said weakly. Hearing her old nickname fall from his lips made her heart clench painfully. She had been Elowen for too long. Now she could be Ellie again and hopefully have the happiness in her life that had been associated with the name.

"My grandmother left me the house when she passed last month. I came to settle her affairs, but now..."

"Right. You, uh, said there was a body?" Reed's expression shuttered, professionalism sliding back into place. He stepped around her to enter the house, sharp eyes cataloging every detail.

Ellie nodded and led him to the guest room. The sight of the crumpled form hit her like a punch to the solar plexus all over again. She didn't think she'd ever get used to seeing death.

Reed, however, seemed grimly unfazed. He knelt next to the body, checking for a pulse and examining the twisted neck with clinical detachment. After a few moments, he sighed and stood.

"He's gone, all right. Looks like his neck was snapped." He pulled a small notebook out of his breast pocket and started jotting down notes. "Did you touch or move anything when you found him?"

"No, god no. I almost puked, actually." Ellie hugged her arms tightly around herself, trying to ward off a shiver. Reed's presence steadied her, but only slightly. "Who is he? And what the hell is he doing in my house?"

"Hard to say without an ID." Reed grimaced apologetically. "Look, I know this is your place, but we need to treat it like a crime scene until we know more. I'm gonna call the coroner to collect the body, and I'll need to tape off this room. You got somewhere else you can stay for a few days?"

"I..." Ellie floundered. She had planned to move right into the cottage. But the thought of sleeping mere feet away from where she found a dead body made bile rise. "I can get a room at the BB, I guess."

Reed nodded. "I think that's best. We'll process the scene as fast as we can, but these things take time."

He must have seen something forlorn in her expression because his stern demeanor softened. Resting a broad hand on her shoulder, he gave her a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry this happened, Ellie. I know it's not the homecoming you imagined. But I promise I'll get to the bottom of it."

"I know you will," she said, meaning it. Reed had always been a man of his word, even when it came to tricky things like teenage love and family feuds. He hadn't promised her forever at eighteen, and she knew now it was because he respected her too much to make a vow he wasn't certain he could keep.

Part of her would always love him for that.

On autopilot, she followed him out to the main room, barely registering as he radioed for backup and the coroner. Her mind whirled with dark possibilities, each more unsettling than the last. Whispering Pines might look like a fairy-tale village, but she knew it harbored things that went bump in the night. Finding a body in her supposedly empty house reeked of the uncanny.

"You okay?" Reed's voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. He stood in front of her again, frowning in concern. "You kinda spaced out on me."

"Yeah, sorry. It's just... a lot. I mean, I didn't exactly expect a murder mystery as a housewarming present." She tried for a smile, but it felt brittle. "You don't think this was random, do you? A body showing up the day I come back, in my family home..."

"I don't want to speculate just yet," Reed said carefully. But she saw the flicker of doubt in his eyes. No, this was no coincidence. And they both knew it.

Outside, sirens approached, shattering the sleepy mid-morning quiet. Reed turned toward the door to meet his backup, then paused, looking over his shoulder at her.

"For what it's worth, Ellie... I'm glad you're home. I just wish it were under better circumstances."

With that, he strode outside, leaving her alone with the specter of death and a heart full of unspoken history.

Ellie watched through the window as the cavalry arrived - a couple deputy cruisers, an ambulance, and what she assumed was the coroner's van. Reed directed them with terse efficiency, every inch the seasoned sheriff.

He'd always wanted this, she remembered. To protect and serve, to keep Whispering Pines safe. It was his legacy as a Mallory, just like magic was hers. She wondered if the call of duty ever reconciled with the wilder urges of his inner tiger the way he hoped. She wondered if he ever thought about the future they might have had if their bloodlines hadn't gotten in the way.