---
Kess vanished into the night.
No hesitation. No panic. Just the calculated exit of someone who wanted to be followed—or knew exactly how to avoid it.
I didn't hesitate.
"Stay here," I muttered to Ravyn, already moving.
"Wait—Jin!" she called after me, but I was already gone.
I sprinted through the alley, vaulting the broken crates, heart pounding not from fear—but something sharper. I didn't know what she was or who she served, but she didn't flinch when Grax went down. She didn't lift a finger when Zarn bled.
She watched.
And now I had to know why.
The alley split—I spotted a glimmer of movement on the rooftop.
She was up there.
I leapt.
The first ledge met my fingertips and I yanked myself up in one smooth motion. My body moved on instinct. Every motion crisp, calculated, fast.
She glanced back once from the top of the adjacent building.
Smiled.
And ran.
Reflex I – Active.
Speed I – Active.
I launched after her.
The rooftops of Lysereth weren't made for casual runners. Uneven tiles, sudden drops, broken chimneys—but I moved like I'd trained on them my whole life. The city below blurred as I gained on her, the wind in my ears louder than my own thoughts.
She spun at the end of a sloped roof and flung something at me.
I ducked just in time as a handful of caltrops scattered where I'd been.
Dirty trick.
Didn't stop me.
I followed her across a crumbling wooden walkway between buildings. It cracked under her weight and she jumped—just as it shattered beneath mine. I went down, caught a ledge with one hand, and swung myself onto a balcony three floors below.
She was already vaulting to another rooftop.
Damn, she was fast.
But not faster than me.
I used the momentum, rebounded off the wall, and climbed again—two steps at a time, up the iron ladder and over the next building's edge.
There she was—darting across a laundry line, using it like a tightrope.
I didn't slow.
I ran the damn line after her.
She looked back—surprised.
Good.
"Persistent," she called, voice calm despite her pace.
"You watched us fight like you were shopping," I shouted. "What are you?"
"Curious," she replied, leaping onto a slanted roof and sliding down it like a slide.
I followed—nearly lost balance as I slid down beside her.
She hit the ground running.
We were in a narrow lane now. Less rooftops. More streets.
She knocked over barrels, crates, even a vendor cart.
Didn't matter.
I ducked, dodged, rolled—never losing her.
We dashed through the lantern-lit maze of lower Lysereth. The street grew darker. Quieter. The buildings older. She was leading me somewhere.
And I let her.
Finally, she cut down an alley between two boarded-up inns and slowed.
We reached a cul-de-sac of stone apartments half-swallowed by ivy and rot.
She slipped through a cracked wooden door.
I followed without pause.
The hallway beyond was narrow, dusty, and silent. I stepped carefully—footfalls quiet, eyes scanning every shadow.
At the top of the staircase, a door clicked shut.
I took the steps two at a time and reached the floor she'd vanished onto.
The hallway bent into a narrow corridor, lit by a single oil lamp on the wall.
At the end—another door.
I moved closer, slow now.
Listening.
No sound.
I raised a hand to knock—
Then froze.
Because I felt her behind it.
Waiting.
---
I kicked the door open.
The wood cracked against the stone wall and swung wide into a dim, dust-swept room lit only by moonlight bleeding through broken shutters.
And there she was.
Kess stood in the center of the room, arms loose at her sides, the curved blade still sheathed across her back. Her coat hung half-open, sweat glistening at her collarbone. No more running. No more tricks.
Just… stillness.
"I was wondering when you'd catch up," she said, voice like silk across steel.
"You left a trail," I said, stepping in and letting the door swing shut behind me.
"Did I?" Her eyes gleamed. "Or did I bait one?"
I took another step forward. She didn't move. Didn't flinch.
"You watched me fight," I said. "You didn't lift a finger when your partners got dropped. And you ran."
"I wasn't paid to look after them," she replied coolly. "Just to kill you two."
That made me pause. "…Me?"
Her eyes flicked down my chest, then back to my face. "You're not what you seem. Not just a pretty boy with fast feet."
"And what are you?"
She smiled faintly. "Still figuring that out."
Then she moved.
She lunged without warning—graceful, sudden, a blur of trained speed—and I met her halfway.
Steel never left her sheath.
And I didn't reach for mine.
Because this wasn't a kill strike.
This was something else.
A test.
Her elbow brushed my cheek as I ducked under. I twisted, grabbed her wrist—she slipped out like water, spun behind me, and tried to sweep my legs. I leapt, landed, and caught her by the waist.
She used my own momentum, flipped over my back, and landed in front of me again.
Breathing harder now.
Smiling wider.
"You dance well," she murmured.
"Not a dance," I said.
But it was.
The way our bodies moved—each strike an invitation, each dodge a tease. Every brush of skin sparked heat instead of bruises. Her fingers caught my collar; I grabbed her hip. Her leg slid between mine—I turned with it and pressed her to the wall.
Chest to chest.
Breathing shallow.
Eyes locked.
Neither of us moved for a moment.
And then—
📣 SYSTEM NOTIFICATION
❤️ [New Bondmate Registered – Kess: 1%]
⚡ A connection has formed through instinct, conflict, and desire.
A beat passed.
Her lips parted.
I didn't think.
I moved.
Our mouths crashed together.
Hard.
Hungry.
Her fingers tore at my shirt, mine slid under hers, dragging it up over her head as we stumbled backward across the room—bumping into furniture, knocking over a crate, neither of us caring.
Clothes hit the floor.
Skin met skin.
And suddenly, the night wasn't about running anymore.
It was about catching.
And claiming.
---