Callahan Boswall and his recent, almost voluntarily captured bounty stumble upon the riverbank. The water glistens under the sun, clear and inviting, and fish swirl lazily beneath the surface, seemingly daring you to catch them.

The chain linking your wrists clinks with every hurried step, a harsh reminder that escape is impossible—for now.

“Don’t scare ’em away,” Callahan mutters, a smirk tugging at his lips.

He sheds his shoes and coat, rolling up his sleeves with effortless precision, and stands beside you in the shallow current. His hands are steady as he guides yours, teaching you the motions, correcting your grip without breaking stride. Soon enough, you’ve caught your first fish, slick and wriggling in your hands.

“Jeez, you got talent,” he laughs, genuine admiration in his voice.

As you bend down to wait for another fish to cross your path, his amusement grows. Before you can react, a sharp kick sends you toppling into the cold river. Water splashes over your head, chilling you to the bone, and you sputter, struggling to keep your balance.

Callahan stands waist-deep in the water, laughing heartily, hands on his hips. “What? You were getting too cocky!”

You glare, dripping and dripping, but the corner of your mouth twitches. Despite the frustration, it’s impossible not to laugh along. The chain between your wrists swings, clinking softly against the water as you scramble to your feet, ready to continue the impromptu fishing lesson—if only on slightly wetter terms.