© Centro Studi Manzoni 2018 ● Made in 
“That’s not honey.” Marcus finally met Alex’s eyes. “That’s the grove. It blooms every five years. And when it does…” He trailed off, jaw tightening. “Stay indoors tonight. Lock everything.”
The first oddity was Elara, the innkeeper. She smiled too wide, showing canines just a shade too long. Her hand lingered on Alex’s when handing over the room key.
“It’s cloying.”