“She hasn’t moved out of line,” I repeat. “She stays alive.”
“If she does step out of line?”
A slow heat unfurls beneath my ribs. Something dark, something dangerously close to possession.
“Then she becomes mine to deal with.”
Ardaleon watches me a moment longer, eyes narrowing slightly, as if he sees something forming in the shadows between my words.
“Careful, Brother,” he says quietly. “You’re letting her under your skin.”
I don’t bother denying it, because even when I turn away from the maps… even when Rafael’s impending war claws for my attention, my thoughts still drift toward Eden.
Chapter Seven - Eden
I wake up exhausted from a night of half-formed dreams and too many questions. The apartment feels too small, my thoughts too loud, and I’m tired of jumping at shadows every time I step outside.
Routine has become a cage—familiar, suffocating, predictable in all the wrong ways. Maybe if I change something, anything, the paranoia will ease.
So I pick a new place. A café near the river, tucked between an art gallery and a bookstore I’ve never been inside. It’s quiet on weekdays, peaceful, a place people go to disappear into their work.
Perfect.
I take the long route, weaving through quieter streets, clutching my notebook in both hands like it might anchor me. The city air is crisp, and the sound of the river softens the usual chaos. For the first time in days, I feel a hint of relief.
Then I seehim.
Simon is seated at a table outside the café, a sleek cup of coffee in front of him, his attention fixed on something he’s reading. He’s dressed sharply—a dark coat, crisp shirt beneath, sleeves pushed to his forearms. He looks like he stepped out of a magazine spread titledMen You Should Not Underestimate. Controlled. Composed. Untouchable.
My heart stumbles painfully against my ribs.
He doesn’t look up, but I feel him notice me. His posture shifts the tiniest degree, barely noticeable to anyone who isn’t watching, but I am. I don’t know why. I shouldn’t be.
I freeze halfway up the steps leading to the café door.
He pretends not to see me.
Something in the air snaps tight between us, a thread I can’t name.
No. I can’t do this today. I turn to leave, hoping I can slip away quietly, but I barely take two steps before he rises from his seat. Not abruptly. Not aggressively. Just smoothly enough that his presence blocks the narrow path without ever touching me.
“Eden.”
My name in his voice is a low hum—polite on the surface, solid steel beneath.
I stop. Slowly, I turn back toward him. “Hi.”
His expression is warm in a way that doesn’t match the sharpness in his eyes. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I—uh—wanted a change of scenery.”
“A change,” he repeats, like he’s tasting the word. “Interesting.”
I swallow hard. Something about the way he looks at me feels too precise, too knowing. “Yes. I needed something… quieter.”
His gaze sweeps subtly over my face, lingering on the faint shadows under my eyes, the tension in my shoulders. “You’ve been uneasy.”
My breath snags. “Everyone gets uneasy.”
