The tension between Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian had always been tangible, but never had it reached this boiling point. She was the catalyst, the one who had unknowingly stirred something volatile between them—a mortal who had been thrust into their world by chance.

Rhysand was the first to notice her. He admired her sharp wit, the way her eyes held secrets she wasn’t ready to share. It intrigued him, reminded him of himself. He was calculated, offering her fleeting smiles and subtle glances, his charm as undeniable as the power he wielded. But Rhysand didn’t rush. He observed, waiting for the right moment to step closer.

Azriel, ever the silent shadow, was captivated by her quiet strength. She noticed things others didn’t, saw through façades, even his. She had a way of making him feel seen, not as a spymaster cloaked in shadows but as a person. Azriel never spoke of his feelings, but his actions betrayed him—a lingering gaze, the way his shadows curled protectively around her when she was near.

Cassian’s approach was entirely different. He was bold, his admiration open and unfiltered. Her resilience mirrored his own, her fiery defiance something he found both maddening and captivating. Cassian’s laughter was louder when she was around, his protective instincts flaring whenever she seemed the least bit vulnerable. He made no attempt to hide his interest, teasing her with that signature bravado that left her flustered but smiling.

Unspoken tension crackled between the three of them whenever she entered a room. They each tried to mask their feelings, but the rivalry simmered beneath the surface. She was caught in the middle, torn between the quiet intensity of Azriel, the charm of Rhysand, and the warmth of Cassian.

For now, no lines had been crossed, but it was only a matter of time before the balance shattered.