The night stretched ahead like an endless abyss, the moonlight barely breaking through the canopy of trees that lined the narrow road. Eleanor gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white as she forced herself to focus on the path ahead. The old car rattled over the uneven dirt road, its headlights cutting through the darkness with a feeble glow.

  Her chest tightened with every passing second. The memory of her sons, Xander and Alden, flashed in her mind—ashen-faced and coughing up black blood. Their cries of pain echoed in her ears. A single thought propelled her forward: I cannot lose them.

  She was still miles from Gemini’s Bloom when a figure stepped into the middle of the road. Eleanor gasped, slamming on the brakes. The tires screeched, and the car skidded to a halt mere feet from the man.

  Her heart pounded as she squinted through the windshield. Standing in the moonlight was Elias Blackthorn, the town sheriff. His badge glinted faintly, a cold counterpoint to the dark uniform that stretched across his broad shoulders. He adjusted his hat as he approached, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hers.

  Eleanor rolled the window down, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he leaned in.

  “Eleanor,” Elias said, his deep voice smooth but edged with tension. “Out for a late-night drive?”

  She forced herself to smile, though her pulse raced. “Elias. What brings you out here at this hour?”

  Elias’s gaze was sharp, calculating. “I’m looking for Nyx,” he said. “He disappeared earlier tonight. I thought perhaps he might’ve come this way. Have you seen him?”

  Her stomach twisted, but she held his gaze, forcing her voice to remain steady. “Nyx? No, I haven’t seen him.”

  The lie came easily, but the weight of it pressed against her chest. She met his eyes, praying he couldn’t see through her calm facade. “Is he alright?”

  Elias’s jaw tightened, his expression hard. “He’s been reckless lately,” he said. “I’ve warned him about the dangers out there, but he doesn’t listen. If you do see him, Eleanor, you’ll let me know, won’t you?”

  She nodded, her stomach churning. “Of course.”

  For a moment, the only sound was the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze. Elias’s gaze lingered on her face, and Eleanor wondered if he could hear the frantic beating of her heart.

  Finally, he stepped back, his expression unreadable. “Drive safely, Eleanor. The night isn’t kind to wanderers.”

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  She nodded, her hands trembling as she gripped the wheel. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Elias lingered for a moment before turning and disappearing into the shadows. Eleanor let out a shaky breath and pressed her foot to the gas, the car lurching forward.

  The faint glow of Gemini’s Bloom appeared ahead, a beacon of hope amidst the darkness. Eleanor parked haphazardly and stumbled out of the car, the chilly night air biting at her skin. The shop’s windows were dark, and the sign above the door swayed gently in the breeze.

  She banged on the door, desperation breaking her voice. “Amaya! It’s Eleanor! I need your help! Please, open the door!”

  The silence pressed against her, suffocating in its stillness. She pounded harder. “Amaya, please! It’s an emergency!”

  A faint shuffling sound came from inside. The door creaked open a fraction, and the cold barrel of a gun pressed against Eleanor’s temple.

  “Whoever you are,” Amaya hissed, her voice low and sharp, “you picked the wrong night to try breaking in.”

  Eleanor froze, raising her hands in surrender. “Amaya, I come with no ill intentions. I need your help. Nyx told me you have herbs—please let me look. There’s one I’m desperate for.”

  Amaya’s sharp eyes studied her, the gun steady in her hands. “Who are you?”

  “Eleanor Blackwood,” she said, her voice trembling. “My sons, Xander and Alden, were attacked tonight. Along with Nyx. It was some wild animal—its claws were filthy with poison. They’re coughing black blood. Please, I need nightpoison. If you have it, please let me make the potion to heal them.”

  Amaya’s expression softened, though her grip on the gun didn’t waver. “A mother,” she murmured, almost to herself. “I can’t say no to that, can I?”

  Eleanor’s chest heaved as she waited. Slowly, Amaya lowered the gun and stepped aside, motioning her inside. “Tread carefully. I don’t trust strangers, especially at this hour.”

  The shop smelled of dried herbs and flowers, their earthy scents mingling with something sharper, almost metallic. Shadows danced across the walls, cast by the faint glow of a single lantern.

  Amaya bolted the door and turned to Eleanor, her expression stern. “You’ve got five minutes to tell me what you need and why you think I can help. And don’t lie to me. I can smell a lie from a mile away.”

  Eleanor swallowed hard. “My sons,” she began, her voice trembling. “They were attacked by something—a wild animal. Its claws were filthy, covered in something toxic. They’re fevered, coughing black blood, struggling to breathe.”

  Amaya’s sharp eyes narrowed. “And you think I have something that can help?”

  Eleanor nodded. “I’ve read about nightpoison. I think... I think it’s the only thing that can save them.”

  Amaya studied her, her gaze sharp and assessing. Then, with a sigh, she turned toward a locked cabinet. “Nightpoison is dangerous. If you use it wrong, it’ll kill them faster than the poison will. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

  Eleanor nodded, her hands trembling. “I have no other choice.”

  Amaya unlocked the cabinet and retrieved a small glass vial of dark leaves, their edges tinged with black. “This is nightpoison,” she said, her tone serious. “But if you’re lying to me, or this comes back to bite me, I won’t be so generous next time.”

  Eleanor clutched the vial, her relief palpable. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Amaya’s gaze lingered. “Whatever attacked your boys... it wasn’t just a wild animal, was it?”

  Eleanor hesitated, then met Amaya’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I save them.”

  Amaya nodded slowly. “Go. Save your boys. But don’t come back here unless you’re ready to tell me the full truth.”

  Eleanor didn’t respond. She stepped out into the cold night, the vial feeling like both salvation and a heavy burden in her hands. The clock was ticking.