"Does a wolf not eat apples?" Luna asked, her voice light and teasing as she took a crisp bite of the red fruit in her hand. Juice glistened on her lips, and she looked up at Javrian with a playful glint in her crimson eyes.
They stood in the bustling marketplace of the border town, the air thick with the scents of fresh bread, spiced meats, and the earthy tang of rebuilt stone.
The newly reinforced walls loomed in the distance, a testament to the empire's hasty repairs, but the town carried on with resilient energy—vendors hawking wares, children darting through the crowds, and soldiers patrolling with feigned nonchalance.
Javrian held a small pouch of apples he had just purchased from a nearby stall, his silver eyes flickering with mild reluctance.
"No, exactly, I will," he replied, attempting to brush off the offer. But as his gaze met hers—those vibrant, unyielding eyes—he sighed and plucked one from the pouch.
Before sinking his teeth into it, he added casually, almost as an afterthought, "It looks like your eyes."
The offhand compliment brought a genuine smile to Luna's face, softening her features amid the marketplace chaos.
"Am I the apple of your eye?" she quipped, tilting her head with a mischievous lilt.
Javrian narrowed his gaze, the pun sailing right over his head, his expression one of mild confusion rather than amusement.
She shook her head nonchalantly, brushing it off before shifting to a more pressing matter. "So, did we get noticed?"
He took a deliberate bite of the apple, chewing thoughtfully as his senses—honed from years as a predator—swept the area.
"Four on the right," he said lowly, his voice steady and unperturbed.
"Three on the roof, and seven scattered throughout the marketplace in several get-ups. They've been emitting some strange signals using their sparks... that aren't theirs."
Luna's smile widened, a spark of satisfaction lighting her eyes.
Using others' sparks could only mean one thing—a borrowed ability, like the telepathic network Xen wielded.
It was the very power that had allowed his intelligence guild to spread like wildfire across the empire in her future memories, linking minds in a web of whispers and secrets.
"It is definitely Xen," she confirmed, her tone laced with certainty.
Javrian nodded, his predatory instincts sharpening.
"What do you think his reaction would be?" He was eager to hear her insight, recalling how she had explained earlier: Xen, piecing together the rumors of Javrian's frenzied attacks on the town walls, would have concluded they stemmed from losing someone he loved and would have been laughing at him right now.
When Javrian heard all of this, he just wanted to rip that guy to pieces. But since Luna told him that he would get his turn after they reached a deal, he withdrew.
So at least until Luna's plan did not fail, Javrian wanted to savor the thought, to picture the fear in his prey's eyes.
Luna glanced at him, noting the feral gleam in his expression—the look of a hunter anticipating the tremble of cornered quarry.
She did not sugarcoat it; honesty was needed as she knew this was the truth. "He might be pulling his hair while yelling at his people, trying to confirm if it's really you or not."
Javrian bit into the apple again, the crunch audible even over the marketplace din, his demeanor utterly uncaring of the dangers lurking in the town.
But then he noticed it: one of the figures he had been tracking—a nondescript member of the intelligence bureau disguised as a merchant—suddenly clamped his hands over his ears, wincing as if bombarded by an invisible cacophony.
"…Haha, do you really know sorcery, Luna?" Javrian chuckled lowly, a rumble deep in his chest, realizing Luna had hit the mark perfectly.
Xen was really panicking like a chicken.
"Do you want me to trace the location of this spark and get that guy?" Javrian asked, his voice a low murmur as he finished his apple, tossing the core aside with casual precision.
His silver eyes scanned the marketplace once more, ever vigilant.
Luna turned to him with a sly smile, her crimson hair catching the sunlight like spilled blood.
"Of course you should do it," she said, her tone light but laced with intent.
She met his gaze, holding it steadily as he narrowed his eyes, a flicker of suspicion crossing his rugged features.
Suddenly, a prickle ran down his spine—his instincts, sharpened by years of survival and battle, screamed that something was amiss the moment he saw Luna's usual expression but more like masked.
After all night looking into her eyes, reading her expression in her most vulnerable state, he seemed to have gotten a hunch about which expressions were genuine and which were not.
The air felt heavier, the air in the place shifting unnaturally as if the town itself was holding its breath.
Luna noticed the change immediately, her smile fading into concern. "What happened? Is something the matter?"
Javrian looked around, his senses on high alert not finding any anomaly before grabbing her hand in a firm grip.
Without a word, he pulled her into a narrow alleyway tucked between two weathered buildings, away from the prying eyes of the marketplace.
He pinned her gently but firmly against the rough stone wall, his body shielding hers, eyes narrowed with suspicion.
"Th-this... is not the right time for all this..." Luna pursed her lips, fighting to maintain a stoic expression, but she tried to appear as innocent as possible given how she had seen his face all night, those eyes never leaving her while bathed in the most vulnerable moment of the lustful but lovely night; she seemed to have gotten this ability to read his eyes.
And she could tell that he was suspicious of her.
"Tell me the truth, Luna," he demanded, his voice a growl inches from her face. "What are you planning?"
'...I should have acted more natural.' Noting the point, she turned her head aside, avoiding his piercing stare for a moment before replying softly, "I will tell you, but you have to promise me one thing."
He narrowed his gaze further, unyielding. "I will not. Tell me first."
Before she could respond, she looked back into his eyes, meeting the challenge with a glare of her own. "No, first promise me."
Javrian held her stare, tension crackling between them like sparks on dry tinder.
Finally, he relented with a frustrated exhale.
"Fine, I promise you. Now tell—"
He blinked once, twice, and on the third time, the world tilted in that split second of vulnerability—a momentary lapse as his focus sharpened on her words, the alley's dim light playing tricks on his vision... a few moments passed.
"L-Luna—?"
His voice faltered, confusion etching his features as the scene snapped into harsh clarity.
From the mouth of the alleyway, he looked on in stunned disbelief.
Handcuffs clicked shut around Luna's wrists, the cold metal gleaming under the filtered sunlight.
A woman with flowing blonde hair, clad in the ornate armor of an imperial commander, stood at the forefront of a squad of soldiers.
Their spears were leveled at Luna, forming a deadly perimeter that brooked no escape.
"You are under arrest, Luna Vasquez," the commander declared, her voice ringing with authority and a hint of personal triumph.
Javrian's jaws clenched, a vein pulsing in his temple as he instinctively tried to take a step forward, his body coiling like a spring ready to unleash fury.
But he clenched his fist instead, forcing himself to stand still, his eyes glaring daggers that could have ignited the air.
A surge of killing intent radiated from him, raw and palpable, causing the soldiers to panic—their eyes darting wildly, spears trembling in their grips as an unseen dread washed over them.
They scanned the alley and rooftops, searching for the source, but found no one. The beast had vanished.
High above, hidden on the tallest rooftop overlooking the town, Javrian flinched against the stone wall, his grip so fierce that cracks spiderwebbed outward from his fingers, crumbling mortar to dust.
"Why did you give me that promise, Luna?" he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice a bitter whisper carried away by the wind.
As he recalled the promise with a surge of bitter rage—*Promise me, you will not make a move when they arrest me!*—the weight of it anchored him in place, a chain forged from his own word, even as every instinct screamed for blood.
Simply because it was a promise he made... to her.