Isla

  By the time I stepped into my apartment, the door clicking shut behind me, my nerves were raw and frayed. I leaned against the wood, the cool surface pressing into my back as I took a moment to steady my breathing. The quiet of my space wasn’t comforting tonight. It felt fragile, like the silence could crack open at any second and let the chaos of the outside world pour in.

  The snakes shifted uneasily, brushing against my skin in ripples of tension. Poppy coiled near my jaw, her comforting weight grounding me as Noodle flicked her tongue toward my cheek. Even Viper, who was usually all bite and posturing, stayed still, her coils tight against my shoulder like she was waiting for something.

  “He knows my name,” I muttered. The words sounded bitter, foreign, like they didn’t belong to me. The snakes stirred again, their movements sharper this time. It didn’t make sense. I hadn’t told him. I hadn’t told anyone.

  I pushed off the door, tossing my keys onto the counter and shrugging out of my jacket. The snakes adjusted as I moved, their restlessness echoing the unease twisting in my gut.

  Finn. That name had been haunting me ever since I met him. He was of magic and myth—that much had been obvious from the start. But now, with the way he’d said my name, the way he’d spoken with that wiry man at the park… it wasn’t just coincidence. It wasn’t just a stranger being curious.

  It was deliberate, and the worst part was, I couldn’t tell if he was a threat. I rubbed the back of my neck, my fingers brushing against Poppy as she shifted. Noodle flicked her tongue again, her curiosity buzzing faintly in the back of my mind.

  “He’s not one of them,” I said aloud, my voice low. “He can’t be.”

  The snakes didn’t respond, but their movements felt heavier, weighted with doubt. I didn’t know how I could be so sure. Maybe it was the way he’d looked at me—calm, curious, but not cruel. He didn’t have the cold, calculating gaze I’d come to expect from anyone connected to him. But just because he didn’t work for them didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous.

  I paced toward the couch, my boots clicking softly against the hardwood. The tall ceilings of the apartment felt like they were closing in, the space I’d worked so hard to make my own suddenly feeling too open, too vulnerable. The snakes shifted again, their unease brushing against my thoughts.

  “Okay,” I muttered, more to myself than to them. “Think.”

  My phone was still in my jacket pocket. I pulled it out, staring at the dark screen for a long moment before unlocking it. My contact list was short. Too short. But one name stood out.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Beck.

  I hesitated, thumb hovering over her name. Beck didn’t like being bothered unless you had a good reason. But if anyone would have heard of a Finn who could make magic ripple like that—it’d be her.

  Isla: Hey. You ever heard of a guy named Finn? Tall, broody, weird energy. Definitely not human.

  The typing bubble appeared almost immediately. Typical Beck—pretending she didn’t care but always keeping tabs.

  Beck: Finn? Might’ve heard the name in passing. Bit too normal though. If he was one of his, he’d have something more pretentious. Like Xandros. Or Kallion. Or something that sounds like a sneeze in Greek.

  A reluctant smile tugged at my mouth.

  Isla: So not one of his?

  Beck: Doubt it. But don’t quote me. Normal names don’t always mean normal men.

  I stared at her last message for a moment, the faint comfort of her dry tone doing little to quiet the unease twisting in my chest.

  Isla: Thanks.

  Beck: Tell your snakes I said hi.

  I set the phone down, the faint glow of the screen fading as it locked. The room felt too quiet again, like the silence had teeth.

  Finn wasn’t just some random craftsman. That much was clear. He’d known who I was—at least enough to know my name—and he’d made it clear he wasn’t done with me. The way he’d said, “See you around, Isla,” sent a shiver down my spine every time I replayed it in my mind.

  My fists clenched at my sides as I stared out the window. The city below glittered with its usual energy, cars weaving through the streets, lights blinking in distant windows. It looked so normal, so oblivious. But I couldn’t afford to be oblivious. Not anymore.

  The snakes shifted sharply, their unease prickling at the edges of my mind. If Finn wasn’t working for him, then why had he sought me out? And if he was working for him…

  I clenched my teeth, the thought making my stomach twist. If he knew where I was—if they knew—it wouldn’t just be Finn showing up at parks or grocery stores. They wouldn’t stop until they’d found me.

  I pressed a hand to my forehead, the cool metal of my rings biting into my skin. Poppy nuzzled against my neck, her warmth a quiet reassurance, while Viper shifted just enough to coil more protectively against my shoulder.

  For years, I’d managed to stay hidden, to keep myself out of sight and out of reach. I’d built a life out of small routines and quiet anonymity, carving out a space where I could feel safe, even if it was temporary. But now, it felt like all of that was slipping through my fingers.

  Finn wasn’t just a crack in the carefully constructed walls I’d built around myself. No. somehow I just knew he was a wrecking ball, and I didn’t know if he’d come to help or to destroy.

  The snakes calmed slightly, their earlier agitation settling into something quieter, more watchful. Even Noodle, who was always the first to nose her way into trouble, stayed still for once, her tiny head resting lightly against my temple.

  I rubbed a hand over my face, the weight of the day pressing down on me like a lead blanket.

  “He said he’d see me around,” I muttered, the words bitter in my mouth. “What the hell does that mean?”

  No one answered, but the snakes’ quiet presence was answer enough. It meant that this wasn’t over. It meant I was going to be growing new snakes tonight. I could feel it at the base of my skull already—the pressure, the buzzing.

  And for the first time in years, I realized I wasn’t just afraid of being found. I was afraid of what would happen when someone finally did.