Adorned in the selkieâs favorite pair of gloves and her rather bright apron, Lucretia had a plan to start the day in a wide alternative to the latest updates happening about town. Certainly, she was horrified â but maybe being rid of some supernaturals would do some good when it came to her daughterâs future. After all, sheâd rarely come across a kindly vampire or thoughtful banshee. Despite all this, there was no doubt that her name on the list struck fear in her heart â and the chance still stood that her only child could be ripped from her. All of this in a dayâs doubts. At least they could live comfortably for now with the money from her husbandâs death.
  Work was as lethargy inducing as usual, however. Sweat dipped across her forehead as she stood on her toes to trim the edge of a hedge. At least she could keep the town pretty â and make money doing it. Huffing out a deep breath, she dropped her shears to the side to take a good long look at the first hedge of many she had to finish by the end of the day. Itâs shape was nothing special, just an oval â something that Lu still had to be proud of.
  "Just the rest of the street to go, huh?â The kindly woman directed towards a passerby, a soft smile tipping on the edge of her lips at the hard work sheâd put into the brush. She was far more excited for the flowers sheâd plant the next day though. "I like to think a manicured Main Street will k-keep the town hopeful and happy â if not a little prettier.â
Ilyasâ day started on the wrong side of the bed -- it always did. Pleasant was not a word that could describe the mer, humble the antonym of what he was. Arrogant, haughty, disdaining... The amount of people that had called him an âassholeâ or similar couldnât be counted on two hands, and not just because heâd been alive a thousand years and on land more than most of his kind.
But after the grumpy beginning -- and the cup of coffee, bitterly disgusting, the powered him through the morning -- he set off from his condo. The mer felt know fear in walking the streets of Anchorage. He wasnât oblivious to what was going on. Heâd read the bold headlines, the gorily detailed articles, but none of them scared him. It wasnât as if hunters were a new phenomenon. So what if they were being paid? They still relied on the same old tricks. He could outsmart them, he was sure of it.
He was also sure that he could avoid any conversation if he hunched his shoulders and glared at anyone that dared look his way but... Lucky was also not a word associated with Ilyas. With a dagger-sharp gaze, the mer looked at the woman whoâd spoken, his eyes narrowing as he appraised her. âWhy should I care what the town is feeling?â