The city smelled of ash the next morning.
Street sweepers worked quietly, pushing molten-black debris into carts. Shopkeepers whispered to each other over half-open doors, their eyes darting toward the burned stretch of road where the Gravemaul Beast had fallen.
Lucas walked that same street, ribs still aching under the bandages. He kept his head down, moving through the crowd without a word. He didn't need attention.
But attention was exactly what he got.
He'd barely stepped into the marketplace when he noticed her.
Leaning against a post near the fountain, watching him with the kind of casual elegance that made her stand out in any crowd. She wore a silver-gray coat, fitted perfectly, the collar brushing her neck like it belonged there. Her dark hair caught the morning light, and her expression was unreadable — warm eyes, faint smile, nothing more.
She didn't move toward him. Didn't speak. Just kept watching.
Lucas glanced once, then turned his attention to the stalls. If she was following him, she was good at it. He shifted routes twice, taking different streets, buying nothing. Every time, she appeared again — always just in the right spot to seem like coincidence.
You're not just passing by. You're tracking me.
But he didn't call her out. Not yet. Instead, he started his own counterwatch — noting the way her gaze lingered on his left side where his bandages were hidden, the faint weight shift in her stance like she was ready to move fast, and the fact that she never touched anything in the marketplace. She was here for him, not the goods.
Hours later, when he finally turned toward the gate district, she was gone.
Or so it seemed.
Lucas slipped into a narrow alley, climbed onto the low roof of a bakery, and waited. Ten minutes passed before the soft sound of boots on cobblestones echoed below. She moved without hesitation, scanning ahead like she knew exactly where he would be.
When she stopped under his perch, she glanced up.
And smiled.
It wasn't a friendly smile.
Then she walked away, as if satisfied.
Lucas stayed still until she vanished into the crowd.
Someone had sent her. Someone curious enough to send an elegant predator instead of a thug. And she hadn't made a move — which meant she'd gotten whatever information she came for.
He didn't know what they thought they'd learned. But one thing was certain:
The fight with the Gravemaul hadn't just saved lives.
It had put him on someone's list.