Predictable.
Disappointing.
Me.
It was just me.
I pushed to my feet—too quickly—and immediately collided with something solid.
Or someone.
I stumbled back, nearly losing my balance before dropping gracelessly into my seat again.
“Sorry,” I muttered, heat creeping up my neck.
The towering, blue-skinned male I’d bumped into didn’t so much as acknowledge me.
He simply turned and walked away, his tail flicking once behind him, his horns catching the light from the rune-lamps overhead.
Of course, he ignored me.
That was typical.
I let out a small sigh.
“Well, that tracks,” I muttered under my breath.
He’d looked like some sort of devil—no, that wasn’t the right word.
Devils felt lesser somehow.
Predictable.
He was something else entirely.
Something older.
Something carved from a time before names existed for things like him.
He moved like he belonged to the night itself, like the shadows parted instead of clung, like the air understood him in a way it never had me.
And gods—he was beautiful.
Not in the way people usually meant.
Not soft. Not easy. Not safe.
But striking in a way that made it impossible to look away.
His skin—cerulean tinted, unnatural, luminous in certain light—should have made him strange.
Instead, it made him… other.
Untouchable.
Like one of those ancient gargoyles carved from marble and set high above cathedral doors—watchful, powerful, built to endure centuries without breaking.
Nothing could hide the strength in him.
