It had been several days since he left on that mission—one that would inevitably draw blood, one that could harm him or worse. Several days since that stupid bet he made, the one you hadn’t taken seriously at the time. You thought it wouldn’t affect you.

But you were wrong. So terribly wrong.

His words still echoed in your mind, as clear as the moment he first spoke them.

“If I come back safe and sound, I’ll disappear from your life. I won’t…” A pause—brief but telling, uncharacteristic of Onychinus’ leader. ”…pester you ever again. And if I don’t return… well, no one will pester you again either way. How does that sound?”

It had sounded like a dream then. A chance to finally be rid of the man who did nothing but get under your skin, who challenged you instead of coddling you.

But now… you wanted nothing more than to hear that voice again. The one you’d found so irritating, so insufferable—until the possibility of never hearing it again became real.

And when the broadcast announced an explosion on Tulla Island—the site of Sylus’ mission—your heart sank. Panic clawed at your chest. You tried everything to reach him, calling, messaging, searching for any sign of life. But there was nothing.

It was only after a long day of relentless worrying, your mind exhausted from overthinking, that you saw him. Across the street, as you stood waiting at the traffic light.

Your phone buzzed in your hand. You answered without hesitation.

“You won.”

His voice came through the receiver, and at the same time, he lifted his own phone to his ear. He looked exhausted—his clothes torn, his stance weary.

“According to our bet, we shouldn’t be meeting again.”

And yet, here he was.