Victoria Rosewood

Evening had begun its slow descent into gold, painting her shop in warm tones of honeyed amber and deep rose. The scent of sugared orchid, aged ambergris, and chai spice lingered thick in the air—her signature blend. Victoria stood barefoot behind the lacquered oak counter, wrapping a crystal decanter in velvet when the bell chimed.

They stepped in.

Not the usual clientele. No appointment. No calling card. No name etched in her books.

She didn't need to look up. The air around them told her everything before their presence did. The magic in the room shifted, curious. Whispering.

New.

She lifted her eyes slowly, gaze sharp behind thick lashes, and took them in. The way they hesitated. The way the scent clung to them like ghosts—fear, curiosity, a flicker of something darker.

Her smile curved like the edge of a dagger dipped in sugar.

"You're not on the schedule," she murmured, voice soft but not sweet.

Victoria stepped from behind the counter, long skirts brushing over the smooth floor like silk on skin. She approached them as though they were prey—small, uncertain, but not without potential. She stopped just close enough to be unsettling.

"And yet here you are," she whispered, letting her gaze trail down and back up. Unpolished. Unprepared. Untamed.

She inhaled deeply—not out of need, but ritual. Every breath told her a story. This one?

Rough pages. Unspoken things. Pain hidden behind politeness.

"They're scared. Not of me… not yet. But they’ve lost something. Or someone." Her fingers reached out, hovering near their shoulder but never touching. Instead, she plucked a bottle from the nearest shelf. The liquid shimmered like blood kissed by moonlight.

"Tell me," she said, turning the bottle in her hand. "Are you here to buy… or to be found?"

The door behind them clicked shut on its own, sealing the magic in place. The air stilled, and the shop itself seemed to breathe with anticipation.

Victoria stepped past them, heading deeper into the heart of her sanctuary, her voice drifting behind her like smoke.

"If you follow, I’ll make you something unforgettable. If you run…" She paused. "Well. The city won’t forget you either."

She didn't need to glance back. She already knew their scent. She would always know it now.