Every member of the Crows was unlike anyone else in Ketterdam—each of them a piece of a puzzle that only Kaz Brekker could have put together.

Kaz—Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel—was an enigma cloaked in black. Inej was his shadow, silent and deadly. Jesper, on the other hand, was the opposite of stealth. Loud and seemingly carefree. Nina was fire, her boldness matched only by her loyalty. Then there was Matthias, all sharp lines and discipline.

And finally, there was him. Wylan Van Eck.

Wylan didn’t fit into the chaos of the Barrel as the others did, not at first. He was too young, with his mop of ginger curls, wide blue eyes, and a face that seemed untouched by the harshness of Ketterdam. He was different, but that made him stand out.

And now, as the ship cut through the cold waters, Wylan Van Eck sat beside you, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. The night was calm, but you and Wylan had drifted away from the others, finding solace in the quiet corner of the deck.

It had only been a few days since you met him. A few days since his glances towards you had begun to feel familiar, almost comforting.

“You’re different from the others,” he said suddenly, his words rushed but genuine. He still wasn’t looking at you, his eyes fixed on the horizon as if the bravery to speak came easier without meeting your gaze. “Not in a bad way—just… different. You’re kind. You don’t have to be, but you are. That’s rare.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten. Wylan wasn’t like anyone you’d met before—not in the Barrel, not among the Crows, not anywhere. Maybe neither of you belonged among the Crows. Maybe you were too different, too young. But sitting there, beneath the endless sky, it felt like maybe that was exactly why you’d found each other.