The Arrow in the Dark

It was the kind of night that made the rain taste like old iron and bad omens. The kind of night where even the streetlamps seemed to hunch their shoulders and mind their own business.

I was in my office, pretending my coffee hadn’t died three hours ago, when the door slammed open hard enough to make the walls flinch.

And in she walked.

A broad with legs for days and trouble for miles. Blonde hair dripping rainwater onto my floorboards. Emerald eyes sharp enough to slice a man’s excuses into ribbons. Pointed ears peeking out like punctuation marks on a sentence I wasn’t sure I wanted to read.

She didn’t wait for permission. Broads like her never did.

She crossed the room, dropped something onto my desk, and said, “I need you to find who this belongs to.”

It was an arrow.

Not the kind you buy in bundles. Not the kind you leave lying around. This one hummed faintly, like it remembered being dangerous.

“My boyfriend’s been out hunting with someone else,” she said. “I need to know who.”

The word boyfriend hit me like a cheap shot. But the way she said hunting… that stuck. Like she wasn’t talking about deer.

“We’re due to be married at the next solstice,” she added. “And I won’t be if he’s spending time with someone else.”

I didn’t usually take jilted lover cases. Too messy. Too many tears. Not enough truth. But those eyes had weight behind them, and I was already in too deep financially to pretend I had standards.

Then came the thunk.

A leather pouch hit my desk and spilled just enough gold to make me forget every reason to say no.

Elves always paid up front. When you live centuries, money piles up whether you try or not.

“How do you know he didn’t just get a new arrow?” I asked.

“A physical arrow?” She laughed like I’d suggested the sun was optional. “He uses a magic quiver. It only produces an arrow when he reaches in.”

I picked up the arrow. It felt heavier than it should have — like it was carrying a secret.

“Where’d you find it?”

“With his things when he came back from a quest.”

“And you’re sure it wasn’t a reward?”

She leaned in, voice low. “A single arrow would be beneath any reward either of us would accept.”

She told me he’d been different since returning. Distant. Guarded. Sometimes she woke in the night to find him sitting upright, hand clenched around something invisible.

I told her I’d look into it.

She left the room colder than she found it.

The Woods

The next night, I tailed the elf — Lucian — from the shadows. He moved like a man who’d learned to be quiet the hard way. Slipped down the back of their treehouse, hood up, shoulders tight.

He headed into the woods. I followed.

The deeper we went, the more the trees leaned in, like they wanted to hear the punchline.

Lucian stopped at a cave mouth. Someone was waiting for him.

A woman — if you could call her that — with red skin, curling horns, and a tail that swayed like it had opinions of its own. Not a demon, not exactly. More like someone whose bloodline had made a deal generations ago and was still paying the interest.

An infernal blooded shapeshifter.

The dangerous kind weren’t the wild ones. They were the ones who looked like they knew your name before you said it.

She took his hand. Led him inside.

I felt a twinge of guilt for the broad. Her beauty far exceeded this woman’s. But beauty doesn’t win when secrets are involved. Secrets always bet on the dark horse.

I waited. An hour. Maybe more.

When Lucian finally emerged, he moved like a man carrying something heavy and invisible. His hood hid his face, but not the exhaustion.

I approached the cave.

A wolf lunged out of the shadows, teeth bared, breath hot enough to fog my glasses.

“Easy,” I said. “I’m just here to talk.”

The wolf shimmered. Shifted. Stretched into the infernal blooded woman.

She didn’t speak. Just turned and walked deeper into the cave.

I followed. I’ve never claimed to be smart.

Ophelia

The cave opened into a library carved straight into the stone. Shelves groaned under the weight of old magic and older regrets. The air tasted like dust and unspoken truths.

The shapeshifter moved with the confidence of someone who’d built the place herself.

“What about Lucian?” I asked.

“You know he’s engaged?” she said, voice smooth but edged.

“Yeah. That’s why I’m here.”

She muttered something sharp under her breath. “I thought he was in real trouble again.”

“Again?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled a book from a shelf — a thick tome with a wolf embossed on the cover — and dropped it onto the desk.

The Wolves.

A group of adventurers. Their battles. Their victories. Their scars.

Lucian’s name was everywhere.

“You’re Ophelia,” I said.

She raised a brow. “And you’re observant. Good. You’ll need that.”

“What’s going on with him?”

She hesitated. Not long — just enough to tell me the truth was heavy.

“He’s cursed,” she said finally. “Something he brought back from his last quest. Something tied to… family business.”

Her tail flicked, betraying tension she didn’t show on her face.

“Family business?” I asked.

“Mine,” she said. “Not his.”

I didn’t push. Some truths weren’t meant for mortals.

“He’s trying to break it,” she continued. “Before the wedding. Before it hurts her.”

“So he’s not cheating.”

“No,” she said. “He’s trying to save her.”

I felt something twist in my chest. Not jealousy — something worse. Recognition.

“Can I help?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “But you can stay out of the way.”

Paella

The next morning, the broad came back. Her eyes were duller — like someone had dimmed the lights behind them.

“He didn’t come home last night,” she said.

Before I could answer, someone else did.

A small hooded figure sat in my chair, feet on my desk, crumbs everywhere.

Paella.

“You need to stop looking for him,” she said. “He’ll return when he’s ready.”

“We’re getting married,” the broad said, voice cracking. “I need to know what he’s doing.”

“He’s keeping a promise,” Paella replied — and vanished out my third storey window like gravity was a suggestion.

To the untrained eye, Paella was invisible.

But I wasn’t untrained.

And I wasn’t done.

The Clearing

I followed her trail into the forest. It wasn’t easy — she was good — but I’d been doing this long enough to spot the small signs.

A bent blade of grass. A footprint half hidden by magic. A crumb from whatever she’d been eating.

The trail led to a clearing.

Lucian stood in the centre, surrounded by a circle of glowing runes. His hands shook. His breath came in ragged bursts. Shadows clung to him like they were trying to pull him apart.

Ophelia stood nearby, chanting softly, her tail coiled tight with tension.

The arrow lay broken at his feet.

I stepped closer. The air felt wrong — heavy, electric, like the moment before lightning decides who it hates most.

Lucian looked up at me. His eyes were hollow and bright all at once.

“Tell her,” he said. “Tell her I wasn’t with another woman.”

“I know,” I said.

“Tell her I’ll come home soon.”

I hesitated. “Will you?”

He didn’t answer.

Ophelia stepped between us. “He’s fighting something older than either of you understand. Let him finish.”

I nodded. I wasn’t stupid enough to argue with a woman whose bloodline could probably unmake me by accident.

I left the clearing.

The Truth

The broad was waiting outside my office.

“Well?” she asked.

I took a breath. The truth sat heavy on my tongue.

“He wasn’t cheating,” I said. “He was trying to save you.”

Her face cracked — not dramatically, just enough to show the fault line running through her heart.

“Is he coming home?”

I thought of Lucian’s shaking hands. The shadows clawing at him. Ophelia’s fear disguised as anger.

“I think he’ll try,” I said.

She nodded. She thanked me. She left.

I watched her go, knowing she’d never look at me the way she looked at him. Knowing she’d wait for him, even if waiting broke her.

That’s the thing about love. It’s rarely fair. And it never asks permission before ruining your night.

I went back inside, poured myself a drink, and listened to the rain confess its sins against the window.

Another case closed. Another heart bruised. Another storm rolling in.

And somewhere out there, a cursed man fought for a future he might never get — and an infernal blooded shapeshifter with too many secrets guarded him like the world depended on it.

Maybe it did.

But that wasn’t my case.

Not tonight.