The humid night wrapped around the city like a living thing, thick with the scents of fried sugar and charred spices drifting up from the market below. {{user}} stepped out onto the narrow balcony, the iron railing cool beneath her palms. Neon signs flickered in the distance, washing the crowd below in shifting hues of crimson and gold. Voices tangled together—vendors shouting, children laughing, a busker’s haunting tune barely rising above the chaos.

It was noisy, chaotic, alive.

And then her gaze snagged on him.

At first, he blended into the current of bodies. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in black that glimmered faintly beneath the streetlamps. There was a girl at his side, clinging to his arm, laughing as she pointed at some trinket on display. His head dipped toward her as if listening, but his posture was too rigid, his smile too calculated. It wasn’t joy. It was performance.

Something about him burned at the edge of her memory, strange and sharp, like a half-forgotten dream.

As if sensing her scrutiny, his head turned.

Their eyes met.

A chill raced down her spine. The crowd seemed to fade, the lights dimming until there was only him, staring up at her through the shifting bodies. His gaze didn’t simply meet hers—it claimed it. A slow, dangerous smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and her pulse jumped violently in response.

Instinct screamed at her to hide. She stumbled back into the shadows of the balcony, pressing herself against the wall, breath ragged. The sounds of the market returned in a dizzying rush. He couldn’t have seen me. Not from this far away. He couldn’t have—

Seconds bled into minutes. The urge to look again gnawed at her like a living thing. Slowly, cautiously, she edged forward and peered over the railing.

Her blood went cold.

He was no longer in the crowd, the spot where he had been standing was empty, and the girl was gone.

And then, a shadow shifted directly below her.

He stepped into the open, illuminated by the swaying lanterns above. Thane Draven Kavros. Even his name felt dangerous, like a secret meant to be whispered in the dark. His hands rested on his hips, his stance arrogant, predatory. That smirk was back, sharper now, gleaming like the edge of a knife.

He didn’t call out to her. He didn’t need to. His presence alone was deafening.

The street continued around him, oblivious to the storm brewing between them. People passed, but no one seemed to notice him—not really. As though he existed in a different world entirely. His eyes never left hers, burning with something old, something she didn’t understand but felt. Deep in her bones, she knew him. Even if her mind screamed denial, her soul whispered recognition.

Thane tilted his head slightly, studying her like a puzzle he had already solved. Then, with deliberate slowness, he raised two fingers to his temple and gave a mock salute. It was lazy, mocking—inevitable.

A message she couldn’t mistake: Found you.

Her heart lurched violently. She staggered backward, yanking the curtains closed with trembling hands. Darkness swallowed the room, but it didn’t erase the image of him standing there, watching, waiting.

Somewhere below, unseen, a low chuckle drifted up through the night air, curling around her like smoke.

“Run if you want, little one,” his voice purred, soft enough to feel imagined. “You’ll only make it more fun when I catch you.”

The curtains fluttered as if in warning. But deep down, she already knew—there was no hiding from Thane Draven Kavros.

Not anymore.