“I can’t,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. My throat is dry, my pulse a frantic drumbeat in my ears.
The barmaid stops by our table, setting down the ales and the basket of chestnuts with an amused glance in our direction before slipping away. Sera wastes no time, plucking one from the basket and popping it into her mouth with a satisfied hum.
“Why not?” She leans in, her tone turning smug. “He’s staring at you like you’re the only thing in this room worth undressing.” She bites her lip, eyes flicking toward the bar with open admiration. “And judging by those arms…” She lets out a low, appreciative whistle. “I’d let him ruin me. Twice.”
“Sera!” My voice comes out sharp, every syllable laced with panic. “Stop it?—”
Her grin only widens, utterly shameless.
“What?” she says, popping another roasted chestnut into her mouth like this is all a game. “Maybe he’ll get the hint and come over here. Spare you the effort of sitting there looking like you’re about to combust.”
I risk another glance, helpless against his gravity, and regret it instantly.
Dark amusement now flashes in his eyes. The way he tilts his head—just slightly, just enough to make my stomach twist—is damning. He heard her. Every single crude, shameless word. The air between us is taut, heavy with unspoken tension. And then, so quietly I almost don’t catch it, he laughs. It’s low, barely more than a ripple of sound, but it slides through the air, uncoiling like silk against bare skin. My breath stutters, my fingers tightening around the edge of the table as I force myself to look away.
“This isn’t funny,” I murmur, trying—and failing—to steady my voice. “We’re not supposed to draw attention?—”
“Too late,” Sera interrupts, her voice full of wicked glee. “You’ve already got it. Congratulations, Lailah. You’ve seduced the most dangerous man in the room without lifting a finger.” She winks. “Must be nice.”
“I mean it,” I whisper, sharper this time. “We can’t afford to be seen.”
Sera leans in, her grin wicked. “Sweetheart,” she drawls, “there’s nothing invisible about you right now.”
Before I can respond, something shifts. The air itself seems to change, the energy of the tavern moving around me while I remain still, caught in the center of something I don’t understand.
I glance back toward the bar expecting to meet that same darkened gaze, but my breath catches in my throat.
He’sgone.
The spot where he stood just seconds ago is empty, as though he was never there.
My stomach twists. I scan the room, searching for any sign of him—his broad frame, the dark wave of his hair, the knowing smirk that set my pulse ablaze. But there’s nothing. Just the blur of bodies, the swirl of laughter, the rhythmic pulse of music.
My stomach twists. “Where did he go?” I whisper, more to myself than to Sera.
“What do you mean,where did he go?” Sera sits up straighter, craning her neck to scan the room.
But the crowd has swallowed him whole. His presence, which felt so tangible just moments ago, has vanished entirely. And yet, somehow, I can still feel him. Like the ghost of a touch, like an echo in my bones.
Sera exhales dramatically, flopping back into her seat.
“Figures. The most beautiful man in the room, and he disappears like a ghost. Typical.”
I barely hear her. My mind is spinning, replaying every second of that encounter—the way his gaze had locked onto mine, the slow, measured tilt of his head, the undeniable pull that had left me breathless.
No one has ever looked at me like that before.
I sink back into the booth, my fingers trembling slightly as I press them into my lap, trying to ground myself. His absence is unbearable, heavy and unrelenting.
Sera sighs and pops another chestnut into her mouth.
“Maybe he wasn’t real,” she muses, chewing thoughtfully. “Like some kind of fever dream. A really, really attractive fever dream.”
I shake my head, barely able to find my voice. “He was real.”
And yet, as the tavern swells with life around me, I can’t shake the feeling that he’s still here. Hidden in the shadows.
Watching.
