Page 21 of Marked By His Touch

I unfold the note as soon as the shop is out of sight. My entire body stiffens, and my skin erupts in a sea of goosebumps. It’s a simple message, written in a shaky hand:“Stay away.”

I swallow, shoving the note back in my pocket. I need to find out what's happening at that place, and I need to find out tonight.

The city stretches before us, a canvas of urban life painted in bright lights and dark shadows. As we pass downtown Port Haven, near the harvest market, I see shops closing up, packing away their wares. It’s a scene I used to enjoy, a ritual of the city when fall arrives. But right now, it’s just another reminder of what I’ve lost.

On my right, the coffee shop near my work comes into sight. The storefront window displays a tempting array of pastries and loaves of bread, and the bakery still has its rustic charm.

You’ve only been gone for a few weeks, Ava, relax.

I miss their too-strong coffee and the innocence of sharing a cup with Sarah.I miss Sarah.I miss her homemade tea, the warmth of her hand-knitted wool blankets, and our late-night talks.

I freeze, seeing a mane of red hair. Is that wishful thinking? Or is that actually her?

My heart leaps in my chest like a wild bird taking flight.It’s her!

Sarah sits at a table. Even with the shadows deepening, her red hair is impossible to miss. I rub my eyes, making sure I’m not hallucinating. It’s her, alright. She’s wearing rainbow-colored pants and a white crop top draped by a warm pink wool coat. A laptop rests in front of her, and a half-finished cup of coffee sits beside it.

She looks up, her face brightening, but then her smile fades, her gaze flitting towards the door. My heart sinks. She looks—different. Something’s changed in her. I want to jump out of the car and hug her until I can’t breathe. But I hold myself back. I can’t put her in danger. Not again.

“It’s Sarah,” I say, pointing towards the shop with its bright, cheerful lights.

Isaac nods, his expression unreadable. “I told you she was fine.”

“Can you slow down?” I ask, my voice tight. “Just for a moment.”

“You can’t say hi,” Isaac says, his tone firm.

“I know,” I whisper, my throat tightening. “I just miss her. I want to—see her.” My eyes are fixed on Sarah. She looks like herself, but her composure feels forced, like a thin veneer hiding something beneath.

As we’re about to drive off, a figure emerges from the coffee shop. A familiar shape that I had hoped never to see again in my life.

He’s instantly recognizable, and a chilling wave of fear washes over me. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, with a dark aura that seems to cling to him like a second skin.

It’s Cole. The Raven.

I duck low in the seat, my heart hammering against my ribs. But it’s in vain—he’s not coming towards us. His eyes, cold and calculating, are fixed on Sarah.

He walks towards her, a smirk playing on his lips, a chillingly familiar expression. He leans in, hugging her, and whispers something in her ear. She tenses but nods curtly, a subtle tremor running through her shoulders. He hands her a small object, I can’t see what it is, and then he leaves.

Our eyes meet for a fleeting moment, his gaze piercing through me. I feel a cold prickle of recognition. I might be imagining, but I’m not taking any chances.

“Drive!” I gasp, my voice trembling. “It’s Cole!”

Isaac doesn’t need any more prompting. His foot slams down on the gas pedal, the engine roars, and the car shoots forward, leaving behind the coffee shop and the image of Cole and Sarah.

I try to make sense of what I just saw, but my mind is racing, a tangled knot of fear and confusion. Cole and Sarah, together? What is going on?

I stare out the window, the city blurring past, a whirlwind of houses, shops, and apartment buildings, and the familiar streets suddenly feeling alien. The world feels like it’s spinning, and I feel like I’m falling into a darkness I can’t see but can feel closing in around me.

Why is Cole meeting my best friend?

My mind is racing, but one thought rises above all others: I have to protect her. And there’s one thing I know with a terrifying certainty:I need to get rid of the fucking Raven, even if I have to kill him myself.

The safe housefeels stiflingly quiet, like a heavy blanket. The scent of lilies met me as a woman opens the kitchen door, a sickly-sweet reminder of my parents’ funeral, making me gag. The memory hits me like a freight train, a jarring reminder of the pain I’ve carried for so long.

I’m sitting in the living room with some of the women, trying to read a book, but everyone’s eyes dart around the room, waiting. The room itself feels like a cage, with its rough-hewn wooden furniture, a massive stone fireplace, and the freakin’ stuffed moose above. It’s all starting to annoy me.

I need to talk to Alexander. I need him, but he’s not back yet. He’s been gone for hours. I don’t want to admit it, but I miss him. His hands in my hair, his touch, the way he’d lean down to whisper in my ear, his deep voice telling me anything. I miss talking to him. But a more profound fear is also growing, a fearthat’s as sharp as the rain that clings to the windows of this house.Is he safe?

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