Instead, she straightens, voice practical and firm. "Then we prepare. Carefully."
"Grandma—"
"You have your pack now." She stops and cups my face, eyes fierce. "Let them protect you. But stay sharp. Stay aware." Her thumb brushes my cheekbone. "Trust your instincts. When something feels wrong, it usually is."
"I'll be careful," I promise. "We all will."
"Good." She pulls me into a fierce hug. "I'm staying at the inn tonight. I'll leave in the morning, but tonight, I'm close."
The relief is enormous. One more night with her nearby. One more night of feeling safe.
"There's something else." She releases me and pulls a small wooden box from her large bag. "Protection blends. Old recipes from Asha's mother."
I open the box to find sachets, rue, vervain, mugwort, salt. Traditional warding herbs.
"Sprinkle them around your space," she instructs. "Doors, windows. Old magic, but it works."
I don't question it. In our family, some knowledge can't be explained, only trusted. "Thank you."
"I love you, little one." Her voice cracks slightly. "Be safe. Be smart. And trust your pack."
"I love you too."
We stand there at the corner of the main street, grandmother and granddaughter, herbal medicine carriers, Rowan women who choose our own paths.
Then she enters the inn without a backward glance.
The pack materializes from where they've been giving us privacy. Three solid presences surrounding me immediately.
"She's worried," Calder observes.
"She sensed something," I tell them. "Danger. Close to me." I show them the box of protection herbs. "She wants me to use these around my space."
Julian examines a sachet, analytical mind engaging even with tradition he doesn't fully understand. "Apotropaic herbs. Documented use in protective magic across multiple cultures."
"They can't hurt," Tyler says pragmatically. "And if she thinks they'll help..."
"We’ll use them," Calder finishes. "Tonight."
We walk back to campus together, and I tell them everything she said. The warning. The intuition. The instruction to trust pack but stay alert.
By the time we reach my room, it's late. We set up the protection sachets together, over the door, by the windows, in corners where old tradition says spirits linger.
It feels good to take action, even if it's just symbolic. Doing something instead of waiting passively fordanger to find me.
"She likes us," Tyler says eventually, breaking the heavy silence.
"She does," I confirm.
"More importantly," Julian adds, "she trusts you. Your judgment. Your choices."
Calder's arms wrap around me from behind, solid and steady. "We won't let anything happen to you."
"I know."
But Mira’s warning echoes in my mind. Danger close. Trust instinct. Stay sharp.
26
