Chapter 4 Shadows of the Past

Rosetta moved through the bustling market square, her eyes skimming over the stalls with feigned interest. It was one of the few places in the village that made her feel connected to something larger, though today, even the usual noise and lively banter felt muted. The strange pull she'd felt since the incident in the marketplace lingered, keeping her nerves on edge.

A voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Rosetta, dear! Over here!" It was Mrs. Elara, the baker's wife, waving at her from behind a table laden with fresh loaves and pastries. The scent of warm bread wrapped around her, momentarily easing the tightness in her chest.

"Good morning, Mrs. Elara," Rosetta greeted, managing a small smile as she approached.

"Morning, my dear. I've saved your favorite," Mrs. Elara said, eyes crinkling as she pushed a small basket toward her. "You look like you've got the weight of the world on those shoulders. Everything all right?"

Rosetta hesitated, eyes drifting to the forest beyond the village. Something in the shadows there had shifted over the last few days, and it made her skin prickle. "I'm fine, just a lot on my mind."

Mrs. Elara's expression softened with maternal concern. "Well, you're still young. Don't let worries steal that from you." She patted Rosetta's hand before turning to another customer.

Rosetta took the basket, grateful for the brief distraction, and headed toward the quiet edge of the village. She passed by the blacksmith's forge, where the clanging of metal against metal was as rhythmic and unyielding as ever, and noted the presence of a man she hadn't seen before-a tall figure with dark hair and eyes that seemed to burn amber when he turned her way. She blinked, and he was already looking elsewhere, but her pulse quickened.

Her thoughts spun with questions. Who are they? And why can't I shake this feeling that everything is about to change?

---

In the forest clearing just beyond the village's border, the quadruplets gathered once more, their stances tense and watchful. The village's calm mask hid many secrets, and they had spent days peeling back its layers. Each brother had returned with new pieces of the puzzle, yet the picture remained unclear.

"She was at the market again today," Fridolf said, pacing. The rough timbre of his voice carried an edge, one that spoke of restlessness. "I could feel her. She was so close."

Adolphus leaned against a tree, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "And yet, none of us can approach her. Not with the hunter shadowing her every move."

Lucian, perched on a low rock with an air of casual elegance, watched his brothers. "We need more than just her presence, more than knowing she's our mate. We need answers about her, about why our bond with her feels different."

Farkas stepped forward, arms folded across his chest. His ice-blue eyes were sharp, taking in each brother's expression. "Agreed. We've spent enough time watching. Tonight, we move in closer. We need to know what Thomas is guarding."

Fridolf's lips curved into a smirk. "Finally. I've been waiting for this."

---

The night fell swiftly, cloaking the village and its forest border in shadows. Thomas sat by the fire in their small cabin, the flickering light playing across his face. He looked more weathered tonight, the usual sharpness in his eyes dulled by a far-off memory. Rosetta sat across from him, the silence between them heavy but familiar.

"Thomas," she began, voice hesitant. He glanced up, his brows lifting in mild surprise. "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did," he replied with a ghost of a smile, but it faded as quickly as it came when he saw the serious look in her eyes. "What is it, Rosie?"

"Where do I come from?" The question hung in the air, as fragile and loaded as a taut bowstring.

Thomas's jaw tensed, and for a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer. But then he sighed, the sound laced with weariness. "You've always known, haven't you? That there was more to it than what I told you."

Rosetta nodded, eyes searching his face. "Yes."

He looked into the fire, as if the flames might hold the words he struggled to find. "Your mother... she was unlike anyone I'd ever met. Brave, fierce. But she loved recklessly, and it cost her everything."

Rosetta's breath caught in her throat. "And my father?"

Thomas's eyes met hers, shadowed by something dark and resolute. "Your father is a man who should never know you exist. He is powerful, Rosetta, more than you can imagine. And if he learns of you, everything I've done to keep you safe will have been for nothing."

The cabin fell silent, only the crackling of the fire filling the void. Rosetta's mind whirled, trying to piece together the fragments of her origin.

Powerful? A man who should never know?

Before she could ask more, a knock at the door startled them both. Thomas was up in an instant, hand reaching for the dagger at his belt as he moved to answer. Rosetta's heart hammered as she watched him, the unknown making her skin prickle.

The door creaked open, revealing a figure Rosetta recognized from the marketplace earlier-a man with dark hair and eyes that shone like molten gold.

"Good evening," the man said, his voice smooth but carrying a hint of warning. "I believe we need to talk."

---

Farkas stood at the threshold, the night air cool against his skin as he met Thomas's wary stare. Behind Thomas, Rosetta sat, eyes wide with confusion and fear. The sight of her stirred something protective and primal within him, but he pushed it down. There was too much at stake to let instinct take control.

Thomas's fingers tightened on the dagger. "You have no business here, stranger."

Farkas's eyes flicked to Rosetta, softening for the briefest moment before returning to Thomas with an unyielding glare. "On the contrary, I have every reason to be here. You've been guarding her, and now I need to know why."

Thomas's jaw clenched, and for a second, it seemed like he might attack. But then Rosetta's voice broke through, tremulous but steady. "Thomas, please. Let him speak."

The hunter's eyes darted to her, and whatever he saw in her face made him lower the dagger, though not without reluctance. "Say your piece and be gone."

Farkas stepped inside, the warmth of the fire brushing his skin as he closed the door behind him. The room felt suffocatingly small with all the unspoken truths hanging in the air. "Rosetta," he said, voice softer now, "you have questions, ones that he won't answer. But I can."

She looked at him, eyes searching, and he knew that the connection between them was already taking hold. It was the same for his brothers; even from the edge of the forest, he could feel their wolves straining, reacting to the bond.

"Who are you?" she asked, the words barely a whisper.

Farkas's lips curved into a solemn smile. "Someone who's been looking for you longer than you know."