I watched with both relief and horror as Marcus pinned Alun to the ground, his teeth bared and a low growl emanating from his throat. Alun struggled beneath him, his eyes wide with fear.

"Marcus, no!" Gethin shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. I felt a pull to obey, as if every fibre of my body would submit if Gethin ever used that tone with me. "I know it's not our way but, we need to bring him to justice, not to death."

Marcus hesitated, his jaws still clenched around Alun's throat. For a moment, I thought he might ignore Gethin's command and end Alun's life right there. But then, slowly, he released his grip and stepped back, his chest heaving with exertion. Alun gasped for air, his hands flying to his throat.

Gethin approached Alun, his expression grim. "Alun Davies, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of Evelyn Hartwell and Agnes Blackwood, as well as the possession and use of illegal arcanite." He pulled out a pair of handcuffs and snapped them around Alun's wrists.

Alun glared at us, his eyes filled with hatred. "You think this is over?" he spat. "You have no idea what's coming. You'll all pay for this."

I stared at Alun, my heart pounding in my chest as he glared at me with pure hatred in his eyes.

"You shouldn't even be here," he spat, his voice dripping with venom. "If it wasn't for your meddling grandmother, everything would have gone according to plan."

I felt a chill run down my spine at his words. What did he mean by that? What plan was he talking about?

Before I could ask, Marcus stepped forward, his eyes flashing with anger. "Shut your mouth, Alun," he growled, his fists clenched at his sides.

Alun laughed, a cruel, mirthless sound. "Or what? You'll kill me like you did to make sure no one knows the truth?"

Marcus lunged forward, but Geraint grabbed his arm, holding him back. "Don't let him get to you," he warned, his voice low and urgent.

But Alun wasn't finished. "May was a fool," he continued, his voice rising with each word. "She thought she could protect this village, but she was wrong. And now, because of her, we're stuck with you."

His anger was directed solely at me. I felt tears prickling at the corners of my eyes, at the suggestion May's life had been deliberately taken, but I refused to let them fall. I wouldn't give Alun the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

Marcus struggled against Geraint's grip, his face contorted with rage. "I said shut up!" he roared, his voice echoing through the clearing.

But Alun ignored him, his gaze fixed solely on me. "You don't belong here," he hissed, his words cutting me like a knife. "You're not a hero, just a little girl who's inherited some responsibility far too big for them. Pathetic."

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. I felt like I'd been punched in the gut, all the air sucked from my lungs.

Marcus finally broke free from Geraint's grasp and charged towards Alun, his fist raised. It made contact with Alun's nose, making Alun laugh louder.

I watched as Geraint grabbed Marcus, holding him back from attacking Alun further. Marcus struggled against Geraint's grip, his chest heaving with anger and frustration.

Gethin, his eyes narrowed as he stared at Alun who he held in handcuffs. "What do you know about May's death?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Alun smirked, despite the blood dripping from his nose. "More than you think," he taunted, his eyes glinting with malice.

I felt my heart skip a beat at his words. What did he mean by that? Did he have something to do with my grandmother's death?

Gethin's jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "Tell me what you know," he growled, taking another step towards Alun.

But Alun just laughed, a cruel, mocking sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Why should I tell you anything?" he sneered, his lips curling into a twisted smile.

I couldn't take it anymore. I stepped forward, my eyes burning with tears of anger and grief. "Because she was my grandmother," I said, my voice shaking with emotion. "And if you had anything to do with her death, I swear I'll..."

I trailed off, unable to finish the thought. What would I do? I had no idea. All I knew was that the pain of losing my grandmother was still raw and fresh, and the thought of someone being responsible for her death was unbearable.

Alun's gaze shifted to me, his eyes cold and calculating. "You'll what?" he taunted, his voice dripping with disdain. "You're just a pathetic little girl who doesn't belong here. You have no idea what you're dealing with."

I felt my anger rising, hot in my chest. How dare he speak to me like that? How dare he dismiss my pain and my grief as if they meant nothing?

But before I could respond, Gethin stepped in front of me, shielding me from Alun's view. "That's enough," he said, his voice firm and unyielding. "You're going to tell us what you know about May's death, Alun. And you're going to do it now."

Alun's smirk faded, replaced by a flicker of fear in his eyes. He knew he was cornered, and there was no way out.

Alun's laughter echoed through the clearing, sending chills down my spine. "You want to know the truth?" he sneered, his eyes glinting with malice. "Fine, I'll tell you."

He took a step forward, his gaze fixed on me. "Your precious grandmother was standing in the way of something big. Something that could have changed everything for this village."

I felt my heart skip a beat, my mind racing with possibilities. What was he talking about?

"Thomas and I had been searching for years," Alun continued, his voice low and conspiratorial. "We knew there was something special about this place, something that could give us power beyond our wildest dreams."

He paused, letting his words sink in. I could feel the tension in the air, heavy like a blanket.

"And then we found it," he said, his lips curling into a twisted smile. "The biggest vein of arcanite we had ever seen, right under that old oak tree in the grounds of Willow Grove."

I gasped, my eyes widening in shock. The oak tree? The one that had always seemed so special, so full of life and energy?

"But your grandmother wouldn't let us near it," Alun spat, his face contorting with anger. "She said it was sacred, that it belonged to the earth and the elements. She refused to let us mine it, no matter how much we offered her."

I felt a surge of pride for my grandmother, for her strength and her conviction. She had always been so connected to the land, so in tune with the natural world.

"So Thomas killed her," Alun said, his voice flat and emotionless. "He thought with May dead, Willow Grove would belong to the village, and we could finally get our hands on that arcanite."

I felt like I had been punched in the gut, all the air sucked from my lungs. My grandmother had been murdered? For a vein of arcanite?

I looked at Alun, my mind reeling from his revelation. My grandmother had been murdered. For a vein of arcanite. The thought made me sick to my stomach.

I felt anger surge through me. "You bastard," I said. "How could you do this? How could you kill an innocent woman for your own greed?"

Alun laughed. "You really are stupid, aren't you?" he sneered. "Can't you see what's right in front of you?"

I frowned. "What are you talking about?"

He shook his head. "You think this is just about the arcanite? You think that's the only reason we wanted your grandmother out of the way?"

I felt a chill run down my spine. What could he mean?

"You're standing on a nexus of power," Alun said. "A place where the ley lines converge, where the veil between worlds is thin. And your grandmother was the only thing stopping us from harnessing that power."

I shook my head. "You're lying," I said. "My grandmother would never have kept something like that from me."

Alun laughed. "Of course she would," he said. "She was trying to protect you, trying to keep you from discovering your true potential. But she was a fool. She didn't realize that by bringing you here, she was leading you straight to your destiny."

I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. I didn't want to cry in front of Alun. It would give him too much satisfaction.

"You're wrong," I said. "My grandmother loved me. She would never have put me in danger. And I won't let you use her memory to justify your own twisted ambitions."

Alun's smirk faded, replaced by anger. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he growled, taking a step towards me. "You're just a naïve little girl who's in way over her head who loves a murderer."