Lucas's grin spread wider, stretching into something sharp and wicked. He could feel the burn of ale in his veins, and instead of dulling him, it seemed to make the moment more delicious. He rose from his chair with no hurry at all, brushing the broken fragments of the mug from his shoulder as though they were nothing more than dust.
The merchant was still breathing hard from his wild swing, his chest heaving, his face twisted with the ugliness of his temper. But before his mind could settle, before he could truly process what was about to happen, Lucas vanished from his sight.
In the blink of an eye, Lucas closed the gap. One heartbeat, and he was there, standing nose to nose with the merchant, his shadow falling over him. The entire inn went silent. Even the creak of the old wooden floorboards seemed to pause.
The speed. That speed was unmistakable. Every pair of eyes widened, and a murmur rippled through the crowd.
