Kael lingered in the shadows of the alley, his mismatched eyes narrowing as they fixed on the figure ahead. Petite. Vulnerable. Alone. Easy mark.

His fingers twitched, brushing against the cold metal of the knife tucked into his belt. He didn’t want to use it—didn’t like the mess—but sometimes people needed convincing. His pulse quickened, not with fear but with the thrill of the moment. Desperation had a way of sharpening his instincts.

They’ll hand it over quick, he thought, stepping forward silently. Small ones like that always do. Too scared to fight back.

Still, as he got closer, something gave him pause. There was a steadiness in the way they walked, like they weren’t afraid of the night swallowing them whole. His jaw tightened, doubt creeping into the edges of his resolve.

Kael exhaled sharply, shaking it off. Doesn’t matter. I need this.

He moved into their path, his voice low and rough like gravel. “Don’t scream. Just give me what you’ve got.”