Icould feel someone’s eyes on me.
The sensation crawled down my spine, sharp and insistent. I’d been wandering the street market in the City of Falgon for an hour, hood up, doing my best to disappear into the noise and the crowd. This was the first time I’d left my cottage in the week since I arrived, and already I wanted to bolt right back into isolation.
My gaze flickered over the vendors and passing faces, searching for the source of that prickling awareness. I turned quickly but found no one. The empty space behind me made the hairs on my arms rise. My stomach twisted as I realized what…who I’d been hoping to see.
Abram.
He was never coming for me.
I forced myself to breathe and turned back toward the flower stand… only to freeze.
A man now stood between me and the cart, as if he’d stepped out of the air itself. His back was to me, the black robes he wore stitched with markings that belonged only to nobility. Broad shoulders. Dark hair, neatly styled. A presence that felt intentional.
As if he’d felt my stare, he turned.
Slowly.
Blue eyes met mine, striking, cold, assessing. And gods… he was handsome. Too handsome, in a way that stole the breath from my throat.
He grinned at me, surprised. He stared at me and Nyxthra hissed at him.What the hell is he staring at like that?
“You cut me in line,” I said softly.
He glanced at the flowers, then back at me, a wide grin pulling at his mouth.
“I’m sorry. I’m not sure how I missed you.” His gaze lingered on my face as I pushed my hood back.
“Well, you see me now. Get behind me.”
He raised his brows and let out a low chuckle.
“Yes, ma’am.”
He stepped behind me, but I could feel his stare burning into my back. I looked over my shoulder and caught him watching me.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
“Have we met before?”
“I doubt it.”
He tilted his head, that grin spreading, like he’d just put something together.
“No, we didn’t meet. But Isawyou in Falgon not long ago. Your grumpy husband yelled at me in the street… told me you were married.”
My head snapped toward him as I really looked at him. Gods, itwashim. His eyes drifted over the market as if expecting something to leap out of the shadows. This felt odd.
“Is he going to come out and yell at me again?” he chuckled.
“No. He’s my ex-husband.” The words tasted bitter.
He frowned at me. “Why is that?”
“He found his real mate. And it wasn’t me.”
His dark brows pinched as he watched me. After a moment, he nodded softly as if he couldn’t find the right words. He turned back toward the vendor cart and stayed quiet for a long time.
“I was staring at you that night,” he said at last, exhaling like he’d confessed a sin. “I’d never seen a woman so beautiful that it stole the air from my lungs.”
