I walk in.
And immediately, the air shifts.
Low lighting. Private table. Lux wine on crystal. Petru sitting like a smug king, and across from him…
The merc.
I see the back of him first. Broad shoulders, silver hair tied tight, dark jacket stretched over a body that’s seen combat more than comfort. He’s a wall of silence.
Petru turns to me, face lit up like he’s handing out medals. “Kelli. Look at this. Doesn’t she shine like starlight?”
The merc turns his head, just slightly.
His eyes lock on mine.
Green. Sharp. Older than they should be.
He says nothing. But he looks. Really looks.
And I feel that look in my stomach.
Not like hunger.
Like a warning.
Like he sees everything.
Petru gestures. “Tonight, she’s yours. A gift. No need to thank me.”
I stand there, back straight, chin up. The merc says nothing.
And somehow, that silence is louder than anything Petru’s ever said.
CHAPTER 5
TRAZ
She doesn’t move.
She stands there like a statue carved from stormlight—pale skin wrapped in silver that clings like it’s got something to prove. Her chin is lifted, her mouth tight, but her eyes... her eyes are dangerous.
They’re watching me like I’m the one on display.
I look away first. Not because I’m weak. Because I know myself. And if I stare too long, I’ll do something I can’t take back.
Petru’s still talking. Something about gratitude. About legacy. His voice blurs into background noise. All I hear now is the sound of my blood pounding in my ears.
I drain the rest of my drink and motion for another.
The server rushes over, pours fast, and retreats like he’s afraid of proximity.
Smart man.
“She’s not going to bite,” Petru says, smirking. “Unless you ask.”
I grunt. “You sure you’re not selling a ghost story?”
That earns a snort. “She’s real enough. But careful—she’s got fire. You like fire, don’t you, Traz?”
