“Sebastian Arrow?” I mutter once we’re safely out of range of the hooded man’s chilling stare.
“Ava Karrin?” he shoots back with a smirk, and heat floods my cheeks.
“We didn’t discuss the fake names,” I hiss, clinging to his arm a little tighter as I force myself to stare straight ahead.
“That’s becauseyoudidn’t need one. They don’t know you here.”
He chuckles—soft, smug, infuriating—and his eyes crinkle with amusement. My cheeks betray me again, warming even more.
“You asshole,” I grumble, giving him a sideways glare.
“But you love me anyway…Ava.”
His laughter spills out louder this time, echoing down the dim streets. I shove his arm, breaking my grip on him, though a smile threatens to betray me.
“I may love Ryder,” I say, lifting my chin, “but I’m starting tohateSebastian.”
He laughs again—deep, warm, and annoyingly beautiful. Even in this place, drowned in noise and shadow, Ryder’s laughter still finds a way to glow.
Asshole or not.
Children dart between the crowds, grinning with quick hands and quicker feet, tugging at pockets and slipping away before anyone notices. The men here are carved from chaos, faces bruised, lips split and knuckles wrapped in cloth or blood. I try not to make eye contact with them and keep my head down just as Ryder told me to.
A small tug grips the sleeves of my black robe. A sharp-faced child with soot and grime smudged on her cheeks looks up at me with wide eyes.
“Got any change, miss?” She begs, and I look up to notice Ryder a substantial way ahead of me.
“Sorry, I wish I did.” I simply say to her as guilt twists in my stomach. Her face saddens but changes slightly as she gazes upon my face under my hood.
“Those earrings look nice.” She comments, making the guilt even more prominent in my stomach. I give her a small smile and unclasp them from my ears, placing them in the soft palm of her hand. These earrings have no sentimental value, and she looks like she needs them more than I do.
The minute the sterling silver makes contact with her skin, she is gone. A ghost in the wind. I gaze up again and cannot see Ryder anymore. My heartbeat quickens.
Shit. I have broken the first rule already.
Ryder is going to kill me if these streets don’t get to me first.
Chapter Eight
Everyone in this place is either trying to sell me something or take something from me.
I wade past shadow hawks and stubborn crowds, trying not to lose my footing on the uneven flooring. I work even harder, trying not to lose my nerve as the minutes without Ryder increase. My heart pounds with every step without him.
A soldier without its armour.
The streets all look the same, twisting and pulsing with bodies and smoke. My heart pounds harder when two frighteningly tall men drag a man past me and down a dark and dingy alley, their faces blank and brutal, the poor man in their grasp thrashes and screams for help, for mercy.
But no one even glances his way.
The market buzzes on like nothing is happening, like his cries are just a part of the music.
I feel paralysed, frozen, my gut screams at me to do something— to shout, to step in—but fear clamps down harder than conscience. I don’t belong here, and if I don’t move correctly, I might not make it out of here either.
I hold my breath and ignore his staggered cries, facing the opposite direction. When the screaming stops, I look back with regret. The man is crumpled in the alley, unmoving, a smear of blood trailing from his head like a ribbon. A group of children lurk around his body, filing in when they realise he is dead.Their small hands loot around his person and jump up excited when they find something valuable. The same girl whom I gave my earrings to stands guard as her friends devour what’s left of the man’s possessions. I shudder. She looked so innocent just minutes ago.
I twist and turn further into the depths of the crowd, unsure of my plan. The stale air is all-consuming, sapping the oxygen from my lungs before it satiates me, a thin ration shared between the thousand people down here. The streets are too crowded, my vision swims with each shoulder that forcefully brushes past me, shifting my balance.
Vendors from clothing stalls and jewellery stands call out to me as I wander past them, evading eye contact. The crowd thins as I reach a certain area.
