The moment hung suspended, like a breath caught between heartbeats.
Silken Fang stood still, his cane tapping once against the metal floor. The faint sound echoed through the ruined outpost like a countdown. He made no move, yet the tension in the air crackled—taut, electric.
"Who the hell is this clown?" Zeyna's stance shifted, hand twitching toward her blade.
"Don't," Fade said, his voice low—final. He didn't turn to face her. "This one's mine."
Kaela opened her mouth, but one glance from Fade silenced her. Even Arven paused, his instincts at war with his trust. Silence pressed down like weight.
The stranger tilted his head slightly, eyes gleaming beneath perfect bangs of raven-black hair. "Interesting," he mused. "You've got discipline. I like that."
Without waiting for a reply, he took a step forward. Then another. No sudden movements—only confidence. A dance had begun, and only two were invited.
