It wasn't much. Just a simple greeting.
But after waking up alone—after wondering if everything between us had already slipped back to what it was before—those four words meant everything.
We ate in a comfortable silence, the kind that felt easy. The kind that didn't need to be filled. The quiet wasn't awkward; it was full of meaning, heavy with things neither of us dared to say aloud.
Still, I noticed things.
Like how I caught Raiden staring at me more than once.
Every time I looked up, his eyes were already on me—watching, studying, holding something I wasn't sure I could name.
Each time, I smiled at him. And every time, his expression softened. But there was something else in his gaze—something raw and aching that sent a warmth curling through my chest.
Longing.
Something was different.
He was different.
The walls he kept so carefully in place seemed… thinner. Fragile. As if, for once, he wasn't trying to keep me out.
I liked it.
But I wasn't the only one noticing things.
Across the table, Revik kept sneaking glances at Muir. Normally, that wouldn't be strange—he'd always been wary of him, always keeping a suspicious eye on the man. But this was different.
The glances weren't just wary—they were awkward. Hesitant.
Which was new.
And Muir? He looked way too pleased with himself. Every time Revik looked his way, that smug bastard smirked—slow, knowing. And when Revik finally got caught staring one too many times, I could've sworn I saw Muir wink.
Revik choked on his drink.
I raised a brow.
"What the hells happened last night?" I muttered, narrowing my eyes at the two of them.
Revik wiped his mouth, staring determinedly at anything that wasn't Muir.
Muir, on the other hand, looked utterly unbothered as he leaned back in his chair, lips curling with amusement.
Oh, I was definitely going to get to the bottom of this.
We were just finishing breakfast when Raiden suddenly pushed back from the table, standing with that easy, quiet confidence of his. He clapped Revik on the shoulder—firm, final.
"Come on. You said you had a bone to pick with me—let's go sort this out."
Revik smirked and downed the rest of his drink in one go before rising to his feet. He turned to me with a wink. "Don't worry, lovey. I won't hurt him too much."
Wait.
What?
I looked between them, utterly baffled, as they strode toward the door like two men walking into a long-overdue showdown.
The moment the door swung shut behind them, I turned to Muir.
We locked eyes.
"We're definitely following them, right?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
Muir grinned. "Absolutely we are."
Without another word, we both shot up from our seats and hurried after them, eager to see what the hells was about to go down.
We trailed them at a safe distance, keeping to the shadows as we followed through the narrow streets. The morning sun painted the town in soft gold, but I barely noticed—my focus was split between staying quiet and drilling Muir for answers.
"So," I whispered, keeping my voice low, "are you going to tell me what the hells happened between you and Revik last night, or do I have to bribe it out of you?"
Muir smirked, hands tucked in his pockets, looking far too relaxed. "Depends on what you're offering as a bribe, Primal."
I rolled my eyes. "Just tell me."
He hummed, clearly enjoying my frustration. "Let's just say our dear Revik got himself into a situation last night. Nothing serious. Just… embarrassing for him. Entertaining for me."
I narrowed my eyes. "That tells me absolutely nothing."
"Exactly."
I groaned, throwing my hands up. "You're infuriating."
Muir chuckled, giving me a playful nudge with his shoulder. "Admit it, Primal—you're warming up to Snowflake, aren't ya?"
I shot him a glare, but the corner of my mouth betrayed me with the faintest twitch. As much as I hated to admit it, he wasn't wrong. Somehow, the smart-ass had wormed his way in.
With a reluctant sigh, I nudged him back. "Yeah, yeah. I suppose I don't mind having Snowflake around."
Muir's grin turned downright triumphant. "Knew it."
I rolled my eyes again, but there was no real heat behind it. Maybe this wasn't the worst thing in the world.
We kept following Raiden and Revik, their figures just ahead as we moved through the quiet streets. I was about to toss another jab at Muir when—
He suddenly shoved me to the ground.
"What the fuck, Muir?" I hissed, glaring up at him.
"Shhh," he whispered, crouching low. "They stopped up ahead."
I glared but did as he said, pressing myself against the ground. Squinting, I peered into the clearing ahead. Raiden and Revik stood facing each other, tension thick enough to taste.
I shifted my senses—vision sharpening, hearing tuning in. Beside me, Muir did the same, his eyes narrowing.
That's when Raiden threw the first punch.
"Shit," I muttered. "They're fighting this out, not talking it out."
Revik didn't hesitate to swing back. In seconds, they were locked in a brutal rhythm—each blow sharp, controlled, personal. No playfulness. No restraint. Just raw, unfiltered aggression.
I turned to Muir. "Should we—"
He lifted a finger, grinning. "Nope. Let 'em work it out."
I frowned but stayed where I was. Because deep down, I knew he was right.