Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Tamzyn

T he early morning mist clung to the trees, curling around the dense forest like a living thing, shrouding Silver Ridge in an otherworldly veil. Tamzyn stood behind the counter of her small herbalist shop, the aromatic scent of dried herbs and freshly brewed tea mixing in the air, grounding her in the reality she had carved out for herself in this remote Alaskan town. The shop was her sanctuary, a place where she could blend in, become invisible. Here, she was just another face in the crowd—although with as small a town as it was, "crowd" was a bit of a misnomer. She was merely a woman with a quiet, unremarkable life.

Tamzyn had settled into her new life in Silver Ridge, perched on the edge of the wilderness where the land met the icy waters of the Gulf of Alaska, and the people who lived there were as tough and unyielding as the environment itself. It was the perfect place for someone like Tamzyn—someone who needed to disappear, to start over in a place where questions were rarely asked, and secrets were easily kept.

Her days were filled with the comforting routines of her herbalist shop, nestled among the rough-hewn buildings that lined the town's main street. She had built a reputation for herself as a skilled healer, her knowledge of plants and remedies invaluable in a place where medical help was often miles away. The locals had come to trust her, to rely on her, and in return, she had found a semblance of peace—a fragile, carefully maintained peace that she had no intention of disrupting.

But peace, as she had learned, was a fleeting thing.

Tamzyn carefully measured out a handful of dried lavender, its familiar scent bringing a small measure of comfort. Her fingers worked automatically, muscles remembering the rhythm of this routine she had built. This life was a far cry from the one she had once known, filled with power and responsibility. That life was over now, banished with her from the coven, leaving her to fend for herself far away from the only home she had ever known.

The bell above the door jingled, startling Tamzyn from her thoughts. She looked up to see a frantic woman rush into the shop, her eyes wide with fear. The woman's disheveled appearance—a mess of tangled hair, dirt-streaked clothes, and tear-stained cheeks—set off alarm bells in Tamzyn's mind. It took her a moment to recognize the woman as Mary Whitney, a frequent customer and someone who was more than an acquaintance, but not quite a friend. Mary and her son often came into the shop—Mary for more natural, holistic remedies and Jacob for the hard caramels she kept behind the counter.

"Tamzyn," Mary gasped, her voice trembling. "You have to help me."

Tamzyn's heart skipped a beat. She had seen desperation like this before, back when she was still part of the coven, before everything had gone so horribly wrong. But here, in Silver Ridge, she was supposed to be safe, removed from such troubles.

She took a deep breath, calming herself before stepping around the counter. "What happened?" she asked gently, guiding Mary to a chair.

Mary's hands shook as she clutched at Tamzyn's arm, her grip tight. "My son Jacob," she choked out. "He's missing. He went into the woods before dawn and never came back. No one has seen him, and I—I don't know what to do."

Tamzyn felt the familiar tug of magic in her veins, the instinctive response to another's pain and fear. She clenched her fists, suppressing the power that begged to be unleashed. She couldn't afford to draw attention to herself. Not now. Not ever.

"Have you gone to the authorities?" she asked, trying to steer Mary toward a more mundane solution.

Mary nodded frantically. "Yes. The sheriff and his people have been out looking, but the woods are dangerous; he doesn't want civilians out there, and he doesn't have enough people to search properly. It's been far too long for Jacob to be gone. Please, you have to help me. I heard you know these woods—better than most—that you can find things… people."

Tamzyn's breath hitched. Her reputation as an herbalist who could find rare plants had apparently led to whispers of other, more mysterious abilities. She cursed herself for not keeping an even lower profile.

"I can't promise anything," she said slowly, already feeling the weight of her decision. "But I'll see what I can do."

The woman burst into tears, clutching Tamzyn's hands as though she were her last hope. "Thank you, thank you so much."

Tamzyn gave her a tight smile and gently extracted her hands. "I'm not promising anything, and the sheriff is likely to be pissed at both of us."

"I don't care. Tell him I forced you…"

Squeezing Mary's hand, Tamzyn said, "I don't think he'll believe that, but we won't care what he believes. I'll need some things before I go. Why don't you head home? That way, both the sheriff and I will know where to bring Jacob."

"Thank you," said Mary before scurrying out the door, a bit calmer than she had been when she entered.

Tamzyn retreated to the back room, her mind racing. She should have turned Mary away. It would have been safer. But safe, she reminded herself, had never been high in her set of skills. There was something about Mary's plea and the desperation in her eyes that had struck a chord deep within her. She couldn't ignore it, even if it meant risking exposure.

Gathering a few supplies, Tamzyn hesitated at the door that led to the small courtyard behind her shop. Her gaze drifted to the locked chest hidden beneath a loose floorboard, where her magical tools lay buried and forgotten. Tools she had sworn never to use again. She pushed the thought away. She didn't need those. Not yet.

The woods surrounding Silver Ridge were dense and wild, their thick canopies blotting out the sun. The further Tamzyn ventured, the darker it became, as if the forest itself was trying to swallow her whole. The air was cold and damp, carrying the scent of moss and decaying leaves, with an undertone of something darker, something that didn't belong.

Tamzyn paused, her senses alert. The presence of magic was faint, almost imperceptible, but it was there—a lingering residue that shouldn't exist in these woods. She knelt, placing her hand on the earth, letting her awareness spread out in search of the source. The pulse of magic was weak, but it thrummed in response to her touch, sending a shiver up her spine.

She knew she shouldn't do this. She should turn back now, return to her shop, and forget this ever happened. But the thought of the missing child, lost and alone in these woods, pushed her forward. She couldn't turn her back on him, not when she had the power to help.

With a deep breath, Tamzyn allowed a sliver of her magic to slip free. The energy flowed through her, warm and familiar, filling the void she had kept locked away for so long. It was like greeting an old friend—one she had missed more than she would ever admit. The magic sought out the remnants of the spell, tracing its path like a hound on the scent.

It led her deeper into the woods, where the trees grew thicker, their trunks gnarled and twisted. The residue grew stronger, tinged with something foul, something wrong. This was no ordinary magic; it was dark, tainted by an evil she had not encountered in years. A sickening dread settled in the pit of her stomach as she realized what she was dealing with.

She stopped in a small clearing, the remnants of a circle scorched into the earth at her feet. The symbols etched into the ground were unfamiliar, but the malevolence they radiated was unmistakable. Tamzyn's heart pounded in her chest as she recognized the remnants of a summoning ritual, one meant to call forth something from the other side.

"Who would do this?" she whispered to herself, her voice trembling.

The clearing was silent, the forest around her eerily still, as if holding its breath. Tamzyn felt a presence, cold and ancient, watching her from the shadows. She resisted the urge to flee, knowing that turning her back now would only make her a target. Instead, she straightened, drawing on the strength she had once wielded with confidence, and took the salt from her pouch, tracing a circle around the scorched earth.

"I know you're there," she said, her voice firm. "Show yourself."

The air in the circle thickened, growing colder as the presence pressed in around her. Tamzyn braced herself, every instinct screaming at her to run, but she stood her ground. A flicker of movement caught her eye, and she focused her attention on the shadowy figure coalescing at the edge of the circle.

It was a man—or at least, it had once been a man. His form was vague, more shadow than substance, and his eyes glowed with an unnatural light. He hovered just beyond the circle, unable to cross the barrier she had set in place.

"Who are you?" Tamzyn demanded, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

The shadow man tilted his head as if considering her question. His voice, when it came, was a low, sibilant whisper that sent chills down her spine. "Who I am is of no consequence. What matters is the task I was summoned for."

Tamzyn's heart raced. "What task is that?"

What passed for the figure's smile was a cruel twist of malevolence splashed across his face. "To find you, little witch. My master has been searching for you."

Panic surged through Tamzyn, but she forced it down. "I don't know who your master is, and I don't care. You're not going to find me. Not here."

The shadow man chuckled, a sound like dry leaves rustling in the wind. "Oh, but I already have. And now that I've found you, we will work to neutralize you. You will not triumph over us. In the end, my master will prevail."

Tamzyn's mind raced. She had to get out of here, had to warn the others—no, not the others. She was alone now, banished from the coven. There was no one to help her.

Except…

Her thoughts flashed to Neville Lawless, the alpha of the Silver Ridge pack—although she wasn't supposed to know that about him or even that shifters existed. He was powerful, strong enough to fend off this creature, perhaps even destroy it. But asking for his help would mean revealing her true nature, and she couldn't afford that.

Still, the shadow man was a threat, not just to her but to everyone in Silver Ridge. She couldn't let him escape, couldn't let him report back to whoever had sent him. With a steely resolve, she drew on the magic that pulsed within her, weaving a binding spell that would trap the shadow man within the circle.

He hissed as the spell took hold, his form flickering as he fought against it. "You cannot hold me forever, witch."

"No," Tamzyn agreed, her voice calm. "But I can hold you long enough."

She closed her eyes, focusing on the energy coursing through her, strengthening the spell until the air around the shadow-man shimmered with power. He struggled, his form flickering more violently, but the spell held fast.

With the creature contained, Tamzyn allowed herself a moment of relief. She had done it. But the victory was hollow. She had used her magic, breaking the vow she had made to herself when she left the coven. Worse, the use of such power would send ripples through the supernatural world, alerting both her former coven and whatever dark entity had sent this thing to her presence in Silver Ridge.

She had to act quickly. Tamzyn knew she couldn't maintain the spell indefinitely, and the longer she stayed in the clearing, the more vulnerable she became. She turned and fled, racing through the woods, the underbrush tearing at her clothes and scratching her skin. She didn't stop until she burst out of the trees and into the open, the bright sunlight of midday blinding her.

Breathing heavily, she leaned against a tree, trying to calm her racing heart. She needed a plan, and she needed it fast. The shadow man's words echoed in her mind: ‘My master will never stop.'

Whoever this master was, they were powerful enough to send a creature like that after her, and they wouldn't rest until they had her. Her quiet life in Silver Ridge had just been shattered, and she had no choice but to deal with the consequences.

As the adrenaline began to fade, Tamzyn's thoughts turned back to the missing child. The shadow man's appearance couldn't be a coincidence. There was something else going on in these woods, something connected to the dark magic she had sensed. She couldn't ignore it, not now.

Tamzyn straightened, her resolve hardening. She had to find the child, had to uncover the truth behind the dark magic before it was too late. And if that meant seeking out Neville Lawless, then so be it. She would face him and whatever consequences came with it head-on.

With a final, steadying breath, Tamzyn began to search for the child. She found him by a stream, playing in the water, seemingly unaware that people were looking for him.

"Jacob?" she called.

The little boy turned to look at her. "Yes. I'm Jacob."

"I know. Your mother sent me to find you." She held her hand out to the child. "Why don't we go back to your house. I'll bet your mother has snickerdoodles."

"Snickerdoodles?" he asked, running to take her hand. "They're my favorite."

"I know. Your mother told me. Come on."

She left the woods with Jacob happily in tow and telling her all about his great adventure. As she approached Mary's house, the sheriff was just coming out.

"Jacob!" his mother cried, running to scoop the little boy up in her arms and carrying him back into the house.

"Tamzyn," said the sheriff. "How did you get involved in this?"

"Mary asked for my help," she said with a shrug. "I know those woods as well as anyone and better than most. I found him playing down by the creek."

"I suppose I should thank you for your help."

"You should, but you probably won't," Tamzyn laughed. "I know professionals hate amateurs who get involved."

"We could have ended up trying to find both of you."

"And yet you didn't. Jacob's home. I didn't get lost. Call it a win, sheriff."

Tamzyn didn't wait for his reply. She simply turned her back on him and started back toward the town, her mind racing with the possibilities. The game had changed, and she was no longer just a bystander. She was a player, and she would do whatever it took to protect Silver Ridge from the darkness that threatened to consume it.

But first, she had to find Neville.

And pray that she could trust him.