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Raven.

His hand eases enough for me to draw a shaky breath, but his gaze remains pinned on mine, holding me in place as effectively as his grip.

“You should’ve stayed hidden, Nyssa,” he says, the words a blade of their own.

I shove against him, but Raven’s grip doesn’t falter. And that only makes the rage I’m harboring over his betrayal of Aella grow.

I glare at him until he lifts his hand from my mouth.

“How did you know it was me?”

“This is Aella’s.” He flicks the now-visible pendant at my neck once, and my lips press into a firm line. “Besides that, I’ve spent enough time around the two of you to be familiar with your gait and mannerisms. It was easy enough to see through your disguise after that.”

“So, what, you think handing me over to the Eagle will bring Aella back and she’ll just forgive you?” I hiss. “Men are so fucking clueless.”

His jaw clenches hard enough I almost worry he’ll break a tooth. His eyes dart to the side before returning to me.

“The Eagle has Myna and Lark under observation,” he grits out.

Cold dread threatens to overwhelm me, but I refuse to let it show.

“For what, exactly?”

“Hindering the Eagle’s hunt. Disobeying direct orders. There never really needs to be a reason, you know that. But as of now, he has no proof, unless you hand it to him.”

I can’t make sense of his words. Why is he wasting time telling me this instead of dragging me back to the Aviary?

I study him intently, searching for answers in the lines of his face.

Raven looks tired. Dark shadows under his eyes hint at restless nights, and his stubble is longer than usual.

“You could let me go, Raven.” My words are gritted through clenched teeth as I tug once more against his hold.

His grip loosens—then a weak flare of crimson light shivers under his palm, and he snaps his fingers tight around my wrist again.

I freeze, frowning at his hand.

A blur of motion slices through the shadows behind him, too fast to track. Raven’s body tenses but he doesn’t attempt to deflect as the gleam of a short sword catches in the faint light, its edge biting close against his throat.

“I suggest you step back,” Maxim says, calm but edged with steel. “Or I promise this ends badly for you.”

Raven’s expression is still ironclad, though his shoulders inch lower. Slowly, with a calculating air, his hold on me loosens before he takes a measured step away from me and the blade pressing against him.

“Remember what I said,” Raven tells me quietly.

Is this a warning, a promise, or a threat?

And then, without another word, he turns and disappears into the shadows, his steps fading into the night like smoke dissipating into the air.

My pulse thunders, my breath coming in shallow bursts as I stare at the spot where he vanished. It feels wrong. Raven never retreats. He doesn’t let people go.

Maxim’s hand slipping into mine pulls me back to the present. “Nyssa,” he says. “We need to move. Now.”

I nod, shaking off the shock of Raven’s departure.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. The words feel inadequate, but they’re all I can manage.

Maxim’s grip on my hand tightens briefly before he releases me and we slip back into the labyrinth of streets.