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Feet shifting, she looked out onto the street again.

No point dwelling on a life lost to the past, she thought while lifting her black riding boots over the dead bodies, stiff and rotting in their filth. They looked young.What a shame.Younglings didn’t live long in Telldaira. She should know. She was one of the lucky ones.

Another crack of thunder rattled the decrepit, red-bricked buildings around her, flaking off pieces of the brick to fall to the stones below. This place was a shit-hole. No wonder the markets were held there.

The amethyst glow of lightning flashed across the damp street ahead. She stepped out of the whorling darkness and raked her sapphire eyes over the vendors. Not much had changed since the last time she’d visited. A few condemned market stalls had been ransacked, leaving broken wood fromtables, shattered goods, and the ripped fabric of canopies to prove someone had once held business there. The owners were now long gone. Perhaps dead in another alley for all she knew.

At first, this started as a rebellion. A means of escaping her brutal reality, if only for a few hours. Now a means for salvation, it was still a generous risk to be missing so early. An even bigger risk venturing to the forbidden markets.

But the danger didn’t matter. She didn’t need flames to suffer the anguish of burning, and this seemed to be her last choice. No one was coming to rescue her. No one ever came to her aid. She’d do it herself—had been doing it herself for her entire life. Why would that change now?

Some would call her foolish, but even so, her black boots stalked further down the street, lined wall-to-canvas-wall with booths. Inside the echoes of desperation and poverty, crowded by a considerable stench of thick decaying meats, and mildew, mixed with the aroma of souring unwashed bodies and coital agreements.

Bile burned in her throat with every passing step.

Today, she needed to be there. Her escapes were no longer about choice but survival—a necessity. Nothing would stop her as she mercilessly trained her eyes on the stones of the street beneath her moving feet. Not even the unwavering feeling of a dark presence stalking her could make her turn around and leave. It was best to bind her eyes elsewhere for now. Turning back only offered more of the same.

Glimpsing inside stalls that she hadn’t intended as her destination could result in something far worse than the desperation that brought her there. To that specific stall. Risking everything for …

Was it even worth it?

Again. It didn’t matter.

Only ten more steps. You can do this. Get in. Strike a deal. Get out.

Knocking into her shoulder, someone hissed to her left.

They tempted a look, but only a returning hiss released between her gritted teeth as she continued moving.

Don’t show any fear.They would use it against her.

Weaving around the dingy garb, the conniving eyes and brazen grins of faeries congregating on this incoming stormy morning found her. The eeriness brought a chilling sense that someone was following behind her again.

Darkness—a shadow—had stalked her since the alley. She could feel it. Whoever it was.

She dared not turn.Here, you do not stop. Not for anything. Not for anyone.

So, she didn’t.

Through the smoke and fog-covered stones beneath her boots, the familiar black and red canopy erected ominously in her side-view. Its viridescent hissing cobra emblem should have been warning enough to turn away, but like the shadows pulling at her boots and stalking behind her, nothing could deter her.

Go back,starsdamnit, her mind coldly growled. Sending her skin pebbling under the warmth of her dark cloak.

She ignored it.

Movement inside the dismal stall gripped her already thundering heart in a panic. Shifting toward the back that split into rooms made of canvas. The creature most likely lived there.

She stood outside, a mere footstep from crossing the threshold, refusing to pass any further. Any closer.

Damning, crimson serpent eyes within the Cimmerian stall cascaded through the darkness until sickly green scales caught the dreary light of morning, and rotten razor-sharp teeth peaked through a wicked grin.

“I didn’t expect to see you back so soon, girl,” the words slithered from it like venom constricting inside veins.

Her shoulder found a wooden post and dug into it with the weight of her body, crossing her arms with a matching grin to conceal her molten nerves. An illusion—a familiarity she could settle into. “Seems you’ve underestimated me.”

“You brought it?” The creature hissed, weaving its serpentine tail around the dirt until it met the table.

With a sharp flick of her wrist, an old brown leather satchel dropped on the wood. She arched a brow, cocking her head with a wry grin.