Stephanie leaned closer.
Too close.
Before Coyote could even register what was happening, her lips were on his — warm, soft, and completely uninvited. It wasn't a peck. It was a full-on dramatic, stars-in-the-sky, bard-worthy kiss.
Coyote's eyes widened like saucers. What in the—
And then it happened.
She pulled back, frowned slightly, and muttered, "Hmm. Yeah, that's enough playing pretend."
With a shimmer of violet light, her form blurred — and reformed.
Stephanie vanished.
In her place stood a muscular man built like a brick fortress, long silver hair now tied in a warrior's knot, his cloak billowing despite the absence of wind. His jawline could cut stone.
Coyote flailed backward like he'd just kissed a live landmine. "BROTHER—EW. EW. EW. I'M GONNA NEED SOAP. INSIDE MY BRAIN."
The man — now very much not Stephanie — chuckled with an unsettling gentleness. "I'm Viscount Flin. Tier 3 Trickster. And don't worry — I don't make a habit of kissing confused boys. That was strictly for dramatic effect."
Coyote was still scrubbing his lips with his sleeve. "You couldn't have just written a letter or—I don't know—not seduced me?!"
Viscount crossed his arms. "Had to make sure you could handle surprises."
He walked toward the edge of the hill, gazing into the forest shadows. "My younger brother... he was caught and used as a Catalyst by Hollow Cast. I've spent years hiding in their ranks, gathering intel. I already took out the real Stephanie."
Coyote froze, the humor draining from the air like a punctured balloon.
"I've already begun dismantling them from within. But I can't do this alone," Viscount said, turning back to face him, eyes burning with cold fire. "So, Coyote... will you help me end the Hollow Cast?"
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