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Then an arm slid around her shoulders.

“There you are.” Ren’s voice was light, but there was an unmistakable edge to it. “Sorry,” he said to the Sanctifier, his smile barely masking the tightness in his expression. “This is awkward. My, uh, cousin—distant, on my mother’s side—has had a bit too much to drink. It seems she’s even gone around telling everyone she’s the Savior. Can you imagine? As you can see, she doesn’t handle her booze well. Gets a bit stabby.”

He pinched the dagger between his fingers, prying it from her grip. “Please, good sir, forgive her. She means well, really. Just... bad timing.”

Bad timing, her ass. This was fate.

Taly reached for the dagger, but Ren’s grip on her tightened. His smile remained steady as the Sanctifier continued to assess them.

His voice, when it came, was quiet, but it cut through the air like a blade. “Next time,” those shadows warned, “keep your Shardless on a tighter leash.”

The Sanctifier’s gaze lingered—marking her, memorizing her face. Then, turning, he stalked back to his table.

Taly watched him go. The relief came, but it was quiet and far too fleeting.

Ren turned to her, the corners of his mouth quirking upward as the tension drained. “So, I’m guessing mydrunken, moon-faced cousinwith a hero complex is having a bad day. Do we want to talk about our feelings?” he asked, light, a bit teasing.

Taly shook her head, feeling the corners of her lips twitch despite herself. “I’m fine,” she muttered, though the words were weaker than she’d intended.

Even the moon-faced part didn’t get a rise out of her.

“Right,” he said, arching a brow. “I forgot you’re the type to bury everything until it all blows up in your face. Healthy.”

Taly snorted, rubbing her temple. “You’re an ass.”

“Yeah. And yet, I’m the one that kept your throat intact.” He eyed the Sanctifier at his table, still watching from behind his shadows. “I don’t think your new friend’s buying the whole ‘drunken cousin’ act.”

Ren was right. Taly knew that look—a predator’s gaze. The slow, deliberate tap of his fingers against the glass was a rhythm of calculation. He was deciding if he could afford to let her go.

A part of her still craved it—oblivion,release.Let it end, whispered a dark, reckless voice. But Ren was here, and even in her haze, she couldn’t bring herself to break him.

“We should go,” she said.

“Agreed.” Ren nudged her towards the exit.

The door slammed behind them. The cold hit like a slap, shocking her back to herself. The rush drained, leaving only the weight of reality settling into her bones.

She looked at Ren, his arms wrapped tight against the chill, huddled beside her under the flimsy awning. “You still haven’t told me what a butcher’s son is doing in a salvager’s bar?”

He huffed a laugh. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask me that.” He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I thought I might run into you.”

Apparently, Skye hadn’t marked his territory well enough the other night. Or maybe this was just what men did—fought until there was nothing left to fight for. Until every last ember of hope burned out.

“I told you. I’m taken,” she said, her voice barely audible over the rain.

“Doesn’t seem that way if you’re here drinking alone.”

“We’re… fighting.” It seemed too simple a word for everything that had happened, but that was the core of it.

“Uh-huh.” He shot her a sideways glance. “Just so we’re clear, I’ll save you from Sanctifiers all day, but I’m not giving relationship advice on the man who took my spot. That’s where I draw the line.”

Taly snorted, shaking water from her hair. “Your spot. Shards, you Fey are all like. Someone breathes in your general direction and suddenly you’ve got a claim staked.”

Ren smirked. “Maybe we just know what we want.”

The rain blurred the city into a smudged painting of grays and golds. It was daytime—technically—but the darkness stillclung to everything, thick and stubborn. Lights flickered in windows, their glow pooling weakly against the wet stone, barely pushing back the night. The streets ran slick with black water, reflecting the light in broken, shimmering fragments.

“Do you ever think about it?” Ren asked, his voice softer now. “About what we could’ve been if my uncle had just… let us be?”