Advice

The moon hung low, silvering the edges of the herb crates Trixie had spent all day organizing mostly to keep her hands busy, her mind at bay. The rest of the pack had retired, save for one.

Will sat on the edge of the low stone fountain, shirt damp with post-training sweat, a water bottle tucked between his knees. He looked up when she approached, eyebrows lifting in quiet surprise.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, his voice gentle, always gentle.

She hesitated before answering. “Not really. I was… hoping to talk.”

He patted the stone beside him. “Well, the ghosts have gone for the night. It’s just me.”

Trixie sat, folding her hands tightly in her lap. It took her a few false starts before she blurted, “How did you know Eric was the one?”

Will smiled slowly, brows drawing together with the weight of memory. “Because he didn’t run when I did everything I could to push him away.”

Trixie exhaled a shaky breath. “What if someone doesn’t run, but also doesn’t come closer? What if they… confuse th