Apothecary Diaries Ch 1 Novels & Stories

The village of Briar Hollow sat quietly between rolling green hills and ancient forests. It was small enough that everyone knew one another, yet large enough for merchants to pass through on their journeys between kingdoms. At the edge of the village stood a modest stone-and-wood cottage with a small shop attached to its front. A wooden sign hung above the entrance. Willow & Thorn Apothecary Inside, shelves overflowed with bundles of dried herbs, glass jars filled with colorful petals, medicinal roots, beeswax candles, and fragrant teas.

28 Sienna. There’s a rhythm to the apothecary I like best in the early hours. There were no customers, no clinking of bottles or awkward small talk. Nothing but the creak of floorboards and the quiet pulse of herbs straining through cheesecloth. Peace. Until recently, that peace had been dependable and predictable. Now it’s cracked.

"We’ll keep him secured." I was already running. The apothecary was tucked between a pawn shop and a tattoo parlor. It was a cramped, dimly lit space that smelled heavily of dried sage, sulfur, and old parchment. Floor-to-ceiling wooden shelves were packed with amber glass jars, hand-labeled tins, and ceramic crocks containing rare roots and preserved organs. Bundles of herbs hung from the rafters, and a thick coating of dust covered everything except for a heavy brass scale on the marble counter.

But relaxation wasn't what I had in mind. I stood up and walked over to the bookshelf, running my fingers along the spines of the books until I found what I was looking for. The worn leather-bound volume felt heavy in my hands as I carried it over to the coffee table and opened it to the marked page. The intricate illustrations of whips, chains, and other BDSM paraphernalia made my pulse quicken with anticipation.

We could divorce, and end the marriage, but I didn't want that. I wanted to keep her close. She was my mate. I was never going to let her go. I swung open the door to the Apothecary, instantly enveloped in the musky smell of ancient books and herbs that made my nose tingle. Diana was perched on the counter as if she had been expecting my visit. Striding towards her with hands in my pocket, she flashed me a grin, like she was glad to see me. “Look what the cat dragged in,” she said. I took out the seat at the counter and sat, my hands on the table as I watched her.

"Every tincture, every draft, every single visit made to the lower-tier quarters in the last fortnight. Now." The head apothecary, a man who usually smelled of dried lavender and nervous sweat, scrambled to comply. We spent three grueling hours poring over the vellum sheets. I personally checked the inventory for Nightshade and Silver-dust—the counts were perfect, down to the milligram. I cross-referenced the names of every authorized healer and mid-level apprentice. Nothing.

I had already made that vow in the dark. I took two of my best trackers for the morning’s rounds, quiet wolves with good noses and better memories, and we worked the path of the tray backward. Kitchen. Pantry. Scullery door. I spoke to scullions and dishboys, to the pot-witch with onions on her breath, to the night steward who wrote with an elegant hand and sweated when he lied. The ledger showed an oddity: a new apothecary’s stamp on a bundle of minted tea that wasn’t on last month’s accounts. “Gifted by a patron,” the steward stammered. No name, of course. “A courtesy for the King’s table.” “Not for his table,” I said, letting my voice cool to winter. “For his prisoner.”

“There’s not much to talk about. I’m an exile with a death warrant and a mate who’d rather kill me than have me expose the pack secrets.” Cassie’s eyebrows lift. “Is that what you think?” The question sits there, sticky and sharp. I look away, up at the line of drying herbs that bisects the room. There’s more variety here than in most apothecaries: sage, mugwort, skullcap, dried poppies hanging like little brown bells. Bundles of pale birch bark, glass jars packed with yellow roots and bitter leaves, whole shelves dedicated to vials of what I’d guess are poisons if I didn’t know Cassie’s reputation.

I sat on a bench and watched people go by, bustling around the city streets to get some things in the market or simply enjoying the lovely spring weather. A deep sadness overcame me when I looked at the empty seat beside me, remembering the special moment when Diana opened up to me about her childhood with her brother. I looked at the sky to change my mind and prevent tears from falling. I missed her terribly. There wasn’t a day that I didn’t think of her, especially when I went to the apothecary store and saw all the herbs and medicine. The mortar sitting on the table that the store owner used to crush the dried flowers had me feeling lightheaded. I remembered Diana sitting on a chair, her

They chorused. **** That night, Natalie sat in front of her dresser, brushing her long silver hair before bed. Her eyes constantly kept shifting to the worn out diary still sitting lazily atop her dresser, and each time, she’d tear her gaze away from it to the mirror instead, focusing on the whole process of detangling her hair, but it got to a point where she couldn’t take it anymore. Sighing deeply, the young woman reached for the diary and opened to the first page, her fingers running across the brown colored paper absentmindedly.