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The weight of it pressed against me and sent a jolt through my chest. It was terrifying but thrilling, too. Did he mean the information, or the intimacy? My heart hammered a frantic rhythm as I wondered just how much he’d seen. Did he know the exact, dangerous depth of what Lucien and I had shared, or was he merely hunting for the same spark?

I knew then that the shard was more than just a relic. It was an element of the Primordial Tide, a raw piece of the world’s foundation that had been shattered and scattered. To men like them, an element was power, and it was the ultimate currency. If Lucien had a lead on it, Kael would burn the city down just to even the score.

My breath became shallow as every inch of him radiated heat, a force that coiled within his body, visible in the tight set of his jaw and the jagged hunger in his eyes. He leaned in closer, closing the gap between us until I could feel his breath ghost over my lips, warm and rough. For a split second, I thought he might actually kiss me.

Gods help me. A reckless part of me wanted it. Kael’s voice dipped low, intimate and threatening. “I want the truth about the element, and I want a night of your time. Tomorrow. The Iron Fox at eight. You and me.”

I forced my lips into a smirk, though it trembled at the edges. If I pushed Kael away now, he’d only become suspicious and start digging, and the last thing I needed was a high-tier warlock sniffing around the shop until he uncovered the shard. Its raw, erratic power was already straining my concealment wards to their absolute limit. If the Circle found out what I was hiding, execution wouldn't just be on the table; it would be guaranteed. I had to keep Kael close, control the narrative, and play with fire just long enough to keep my secret safe.

“Eight o'clock,” I whispered, the words feeling like a contract. “Don’t be late, Kael. I have a bookstore to run.” The moment stretched, charged like a taut string between us. His gaze lingered on my mouth a heartbeat too long before he stepped back, the sudden void leaving my skin cold where his warmth had hovered. I watched him disappear into the shadows of the alley, wondering if I’d just handed him the map to my own destruction.

My hands trembled slightly as I fumbled with the key, finally unlocking the door and slipping inside. I slammed it shut behind me with more force than necessary, then leaned against the wood and drew in a deep breath. My heart was still racing, adrenaline sparking in my veins like lightning that refused to fade.

Violet padded into the room, her tail flicking and golden eyes narrowing at my flushed face. She knew. She could sense the Primordial Shard tucked away, its erratic, humming pulse vibrating through the floorboards. The Sisters called it a myth, but in my hands, it was a living torrent, a fragment of the Primordial Tide that could drown this entire city if I didn't learn to tether it. The Council would lock it in a vault and let its power rot. So, I’d lied to them, and I’d lied to Lucien because he’d use it to burn down the world. And now here was Kael. Except he didn't just want the power, though… gods help me, he wanted the woman holding it, too.

I pressed my palms to my burning cheeks. Two men. Two hungers. Two storms circling closer by the day. Somehow, I was standing dead centre, body betraying me, pulse begging for both.

Shower Dreams and Cat Chaos

By the time I finally reached my apartment, the adrenaline was still coiling in my chest. I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the steaming shower, letting the hot water cascade over my tense muscles, washing away the fog of the city but not the heat burning under my skin.

My mind drifted to Kael. To the rough, unpolished edge in his voice and the heavy, predatory silence that seemed to thicken the air around him. Unlike Lucien, who moved with the pressurised elegance of a deep-sea current, Kael felt like a heatwave—volatile and prowling.

His eyes had lingered with a terrifying clarity, as if my coven silks were transparent and my secrets were written in ink across my skin. He didn't just watch me; he stalked the space between us, waiting for the perfect moment to break the line.

My palms slid slowly over my arms, across my stomach, fingers tracing paths that weren’t quite innocent. The water slipped over my collarbone and between my breasts, and I couldn’t stop imagining his hands there instead, bigger, hotter and holding me firmly in place. I closed my eyes, letting my head tip back against the tile. Gods, why does he affect me like this? He’s dangerous and unpredictable. He’s everything I should stay away from, and yet, he’s all I can think about.

Violet, of course, had opinions. The calico leapt onto the edge of the tub, meowing loudly as if to remind me of dinner, or perhaps to scold me for the thoughts running wild in my head. I startled, then laughed softly, cheeks heating more than the steam could account for. “All right, all right,” I murmured, dragging my hands reluctantly back to safer territory. “Dinner first. Dangerous men second.”

Later, wrapped in a towel, Violet finally fed and sprawled smugly across the foot of the bed, I slipped beneath the covers. Violet gave a soft, knowing chirrup, her gaze heavy as she watched me stare out the window. "Don’t look at me like that," I whispered, pulling the quilt up to my chin. "I know he’s trouble. I’m not blind." Violet, the cat, blinked slowly, unimpressed. She had been there the day Kael and Lucien first swaggered into my shop, cutting through the peace of the afternoon like a serrated blade. She’d watched the power struggle from the rafters, and she knew exactly what Kael had been doing in the alley tonight. He was staking a claim.

“I want the truth about the element,” he’d rasped, his voice a low, threatening vibration in my chest. “And I want a night of your time. Tomorrow. The Iron Fox at eight. You and me.”

The words echoed loudly in my head, in contrast to the quiet of the bedroom. It felt less like an invitation and more like a debt being called in. Kael didn't negotiate. He demanded. And tomorrow night, I was going to find out exactly how much truth I could afford to give a man who refused to be refused.

As I lay there in the quiet, a memory of an altercation I had in the salt-stained shadows of the Old Docks came flooding back to me.

Three Weeks Earlier

The air at the docks smelled of rot and stagnant magic. As a sentinel for the South District, it was my job to patch the fraying edges of the city’s magical infrastructure before the Council noticed. I had been tracking a leak in the South Ley line; a jagged, luminous tear that was bleeding raw energy into the gutter like glowing oil. If a human touched it, they’d burn. If a scavenger found it, they’d gorge. I had been so focused on threading the silver-light mend that I hadn’t heard the scuffle of boots against the cobblestones.

"Look at this," a voice rasped, dripping with malice. "A High Witch out of her ivory tower. And she smells like sunlight." I spun, my fingers sparking with defensive moisture. Three scavengers. They were low-level magic users who had gone sour, their eyes bloodshot from consuming tainted mana. I gulped as I realised they didn't want my purse. They wanted the raw power humming in my veins.

"Back off," I warned. Unlike the Council Sisters who relied on etched wands to channel their force, my magic was visceral, tied to the humidity in the salt air.

"Or what, little girl?" the leader sneered, drawing a blackened blade. "You'll light up the night? By the time you finish your incantation, we’ll have bled you dry."

They closed in. I was outnumbered, my back pressed against a cold brick wall. I prepared to unleash a desperate, messy blast of elemental force, a move that would alert every enforcer in the city. I drew a breath to scream the command, but the air suddenly turned to ice. A shadow detached itself from the warehouse wall. It didn't just move; it flowed. One moment the leader was grinning. The next, he was hoisted off his feet by a hand clamped around his throat.

The shadow didn't use a wand. He didn't use an incantation. He radiated dominance so absolute that the scavengers froze. His presence was a physical weight, a crushing, dark gravity that made the very air groan. With a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed the leader aside like a bag of refuse. The man hit a stack of crates and didn't move.

The other two bolted.

Silence rushed back, broken only by my shallow breathing. My saviour didn't come closer. He stood five paces away, his silhouette broad and terrifying. When he turned his head, his eyes caught the faint glow of my fading magic, two golden circles of predatory fire.

"You're reckless with your light, Little Witch," he said. His voice was a low, gravelly rasp that vibrated in my bones.

"I had it handled," I lied, my voice trembling.