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Taking a step toward the sidewalk, he heard an uncanny, deep voice. He stiffened, prickly fingers dancing against his spine. Two gentlemen were parting ways, and when one of them turned, Galen recognized him as the man who’d beaten him. Their eyes locked, awareness dawned, and the man’s darkening aura warned Galen he was in trouble.
“I see you’re here to tempt me again.” The man sneered, stepping nearer and looming over him. Galen had forgotten how wide and bulky his shoulders were.
He looked behind him for an escape route, but before he could react, the man was dragging him into the darkness of the alleyway.
“I require payment up front,” Galen said shakily, unable to muster much confidence in his tone.
The man shoved him against the stone wall and pinned him with his meaty arm, clearly intending to ignore his request, his fingers already fumbling with the front of his breeches.
Galen held in a gasp, telling himself to breathe. To hold his tongue. That it would be over soon enough. Still, he felt dizzy with fear, sweat trickling down his back, his limbs tingly and rigid with tension.
The pressure against his chest lifted momentarily so the man could use his other hand, and Galen took his chance, sidestepping him and quickly considering his options. His move threw the man off-balance, and he stumbled forward, falling into him. Galen didn’t think, only reacted, jamming his knee into the man’s crotch.
The man’s face turned red and he doubled over, and that afforded Galen the opportunity to push free of him.
“You going to pay for this!” the man growled.
Galen didn’t stay long enough to find out how, scurrying away as fast as his wobbly legs would carry him, his adrenaline helping him along.
“Help! Thief! The scoundrel stole my pocket watch!” the man shouted, and Galen’s legs nearly gave out from sheer panic as he rounded the corner of the alley. Thankfully, there were only a handful of people around, and not close enough to stop him—or, hopefully, to get a good enough look. He somehow managed to keep running, and didn’t stop until he reached the wheat fields beyond the mill.
Once he was certain he hadn’t been followed, he crouched down and caught his breath. He cupped his hand in the stream and brought the cool water to his lips. The pounding in his chest began to ebb, but leftover chills down his spine made him shiver.
Still, he didn’t feel safe. The man was bound to keep an eye out for him in town from now on, and he might even be recognized by someone who’d spotted his departure.
Trembling, he returned to the bridge, imagining what might’ve transpired had he not gotten away. He could be lying unconscious, or worse this time.
He shared the last nibbles of food with Agnes, which didn’t fill his belly, but he didn’t think he could stomach much more anyway. When he confessed what had occurred, she seemed concerned, not only for him, but for their temporary shelter as well. She did not need any trouble—none of them did. It was more obvious now than ever that he would need to leave Lunar’s Reach, to avoid putting himself or anyone else in harm’s way.
He fell into a restless sleep, feeling like a boulder was sitting in his stomach. He hoped against hope that upon rousing it would all have been a nightmare.
His wish didn’t come true. He woke to still more rain, and he stayed under the bridge the entirety of the day, planning his route out of the village at the first sign of the sun. He dozed on and off, and spent another restless night, full of worry.
In the early morning hours, Galen felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake. He jolted upright, raising his fists, ready to defend himself should the need arise. When his eyes met Azriel’s—one blue, one green—he thought surely he was still in the twilight of slumber.
“Am I dreaming?” He blinked repeatedly as the familiar scent of flowers drifted toward him. “How did you find me?”
“Your drawing pad,” he whispered, dots of red appearing on his cheeks. “We remembered the covered bridge.”
It seemed so long ago since he’d sketched anything at all, he’d nearly forgotten what images filled the pages. After all, it was a luxury, not a necessity.
“The twins have not laid eyes on you in a couple of days.”
Galen raised an eyebrow at that news, not knowing what to make of it.
“They’ve been keeping watch,” Azriel explained. “They are very fond of you…though I am not sure why.” The corner of Azriel’s mouth lifted, and Galen couldn’t help smiling in return.
“I am fond of them too,” he said as their eyes met and held.
Azriel cleared his throat. “We heard a rumor in town that a beggar had stolen from a gentleman outside the gambling hall.”
