I’d never been truly immune to their pull, no matter what lies I told myself. I knew they were attractive. Irritatingly so.
But seeing it so plainly, so shamelessly admired, set my teeth on edge.
The way the crowd stripped the Shades bare with their eyes made my skin crawl — a feeling I didn’t want to examine too closely.
I caught myself scowling at the cloying scent of desire hanging in the air like a heavy, stifling perfume.
Leo, ever the charmer, soaked up the attention like it was air. He grinned, accepting flowers and sweets from eager stallholders without missing a step, basking in the praise like a damn golden retriever.
Even Phoenix managed a polite smile.
Get a fucking room, I thought bitterly, just as one particularly bold woman ran her hand down Leo’s thigh.
He winked at her — flirtatious to a fault.
Before I could stop myself, a low, guttural growl rumbled from my chest.
Leo looked up immediately, half-smirking, like he’d been waiting for it.
"Something upsetting you, angel?" he asked, voice dripping with false innocence.
"No," I snapped, the word tasting like iron. "Not my business what you do. Or who."
His eyes gleamed with delight.
Around us, the marketplace buzzed — shouts of merchants, laughter of children — but none of it reached me anymore.
My attention locked onto the men around me like a chain I couldn’t break.
And gods, I hated it.
I hate that I can feel them now.
A shiver ran through me, and I turned away, bracing myself against the pull I wasn’t ready to name.
When we finally pulled up in front of a faded blue tent, its fabric worn and patched from years of use, Thorne was the first to dismount. He moved with a fluid grace, like he was at ease in any environment, no matter how unfamiliar. He extended a hand to help me down, surprisingly gentle, like I was something precious.
Leo and Phoenix followed suit, sliding off their horses with ease, their eyes never straying too far from their surroundings.
But Slade—Slade was different. He stood a little apart from the group, his posture rigid, his eyes scanning the entrance like a hawk watching for prey. He didn’t trust this place, didn’t trust the crowd, and certainly didn’t trust what lay beyond the blue canvas door. Without a word, he took up a protective stance by the entrance.
Phoenix stood behind me, his presence solid and unwavering as he gently touched my back, urging me forward. He touched me more and more these days. It hadn’t escaped my notice.His hand lingered just long enough for me to feel the warmth of it before he stepped aside, allowing me to enter the tent first.
The moment I stepped inside, the air shifted—cool, musty, the scent of mildew and something earthy that I couldn't quite place. The dim lanterns barely illuminated the space, casting long shadows over the few sparse furnishings. At the far corner, an elderly woman sat hunched over a rough-hewn table, chewing on a piece of dried root. Her gnarled fingers twisted the root between her teeth as she watched us with a look that was half boredom, half curiosity.
“Is he here?” Thorne’s voice broke the stillness. The question hung in the air, tense and expectant.
The woman grunted, as if Thorne’s question was more of an inconvenience than anything important. She didn’t speak at first. Instead, with a slow, deliberate movement, she gestured toward the small, shadowy room behind her. Her eyes flicked over to me, lingering for a moment too long, before she returned her focus to the root.
Thorne nodded in acknowledgment, his expression unreadable as he stepped forward, his presence commanding the space even in the dim light.
As we moved toward the door, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of the silence pressing in. The woman’s gaze followed us, but she didn’t seem interested in saying anything further.
Phoenix stayed outside, keeping watch like a shadow. Leo, ever attuned to my moods, reached over and squeezed my hand, the gesture grounding me in the moment.
“What are we doing here?”
“Don’t worry so much. You’ll like this, I promise,” Leo said, his voice light but tinged with something more serious beneaththe surface. His grin was an attempt at easing my nerves, but I wasn’t sure it was working.
