Gideon exhaled a dry breath. “Even legends need backup.”
She glanced up, eyes glinting. “Who says I’m not vetting your secret identity?”
A low laugh broke from him, real and unarmored.
“Fine. But don’t come whining when Marco doubles your workload for making it look too easy.”
“Worth the risk.”
Silence stretched between them. Not empty—full.
The city’s noise fell away, and it almost felt personal.
Gideon watched her move, measured and focused. Even the way she held the box said she was used to carrying more than people saw.
She didn’t prepare for chaos. She braced for it.
“I should get this inside before Marco starts barking.” Her smirk flickered, eyes locking with his. That look—half dare, half insight—always left him off balance.
“You should rest. Saving the world’s a full-time gig.”
A chuckle slipped out of him. “I’ll think about it.”
She met his gaze for a moment too long. Something unreadable flickered behind it, curiosity, maybe. Or understanding.
Then the guard slid back in place, but the corner of her mouth curved with defiance.
She moved past him, close enough to leave behind a trace of warmth. “Careful, Blackwell. You’ll bruise that pretty head of yours.”
He watched her disappear through the side door, light trailing behind her.
Steady. Unshaken. Entirely her.
That strength, that rooted certainty, stayed with him like a melody he couldn’t shake.
Then,a movement.
A shadow peeled slightly from the alley wall, too fluid to be the wind.
A flicker at the edge of his vision. Subtle. Wrong.
The kind of quiet that wasn’t merely quiet, but loaded. Alive. Watching.
Every nerve went taut. A pulse beneath his skin braced to strike.
His jaw tightened as his eyes swept the alley, rooftops, shadows.
He wasn’t looking. He was hunting.
Something had shifted. He knew it in his bones.
The city was holding its breath.
He’d seen how fast the dark could take people. Swallow them whole.
And Arden?
She burned too bright to be lost to it.
