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Even with those few details, it’s enough—I would know him anywhere.
Raven.
Of all the faces I thought I might see, I never let myself imagine his.
I want to scream, to disappear, to turn away—and I want him to chase me.
I whirl and slam into a man carrying a small chest, sending his burden crashing to the ground and startling a chorus of shouts from onlookers. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and dread coils in my stomach as I glance over my shoulder.
I don’t need to see Raven’s full face to know he’s seen me. There’s a grim set to his mouth, his body already in motion.
The world tilts, my breath catches, and my stomach plummets.
In the space of a heartbeat, instinct takes over.
And I run.
Chapter 6
Aella
The creak of ship masts, the lapping waves, the shouts of dockworkers—all blur into meaningless noise as my world narrows to the pounding of my heart and the rhythm of gaining footsteps behind me.
Tall stone buildings flash past as I plunge down an alley, my boots skidding on icy cobblestones. At the end, I veer left and sprint toward the marketplace.
The crowd is thicker there, and with any luck, I’ll be able to shake my tail.
An insistent tug beneath my skin breaks through my panic.
The bargain mark.
Even in the chaos, its pull is constant, and my steps falter as it urges me to follow the invisible tether in the opposite direction. It’s stronger now than it was before, more urgent.
But if I follow it, I’ll lead Raven straight to Lyxander. I can’t risk exposing him before I’ve seen our deal through. Though part of me resents him for it—for dragging me further into this mess—another part knows better.
This isn’t only about him. Not anymore.
Slipping down another side street, I spill into the market square. The bustle of the market envelops me; canvas arbors whip past in a haze, merchant stalls and carts flashing by as I weave through the sea of bodies. Shouts and curses follow in my wake—tycheroi and nymphai snarling insults as I shove past, their faces nothing more than smudges of color in my periphery.
I push harder, faster. The ground tilts beneath me as I dodge a man, my shoulder clipping a vendor’s cart. There’s a crash behind me, but I don’t stop.
A quick glance reveals that Raven has fallen behind, delayed by a mess of fallen crates.
His burning amber gaze meets mine. Heart stuttering, I look away.
A break between the merchant stalls appears up ahead, and I dart for it, ducking low to avoid hanging baskets. The gap spits me onto the other side of the square and I make a break for the nearest street.
My lungs scream for a mercy I cannot give. All I can do is keep moving.
The market’s clamor fades, swallowed by the alleyways and the ragged rhythm of my breathing. The winding, labyrinthine paths twist and coil around me until, with a sinking heart, I come to an abrupt halt—staring at a towering brick wall. A dead end.
“Fucking Notos,” I choke out.
If the god of the South and Summer Wind is watching, I’m certain it’s only so he can laugh at my folly.
I barely catch the scrape of a shoe on stone, but as I turn, a familiar silhouette solidifies at the far end of the alley. Raven prowls forward, and our gazes lock once more. The expression on his face shatters me, fury and resolve etched into every line.
I inch back toward the wall as he continues to approach, my mind working furiously to seek out an escape.
