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I grin, stepping even closer, until a handspan remains between us. “Which is why I need your cunning. I’ve set pieces in motion, but alone I’m stretched thin. With you, we stand a chance. You manipulate them from inside, I strike from the shadows. And when Orthani totters, we break Ai out.”

Her mouth twists, indecision in every angle of her posture.

My pulse thrums with the possibility of winning her over.

There’s also a heady undercurrent—her warm presence, the faint trembling in her breath.

Sparks of awareness swirl between us, a dark fantasy of forging an alliance that might shred the city’s illusions.

I can’t deny the raw, magnetic draw pulling me closer.

She lifts her dagger, pressing the flat gently against my chest, a silent barrier. “And if I say no? If I decide to survive Orthani’s games without blowing everything up?”

My voice dips, dangerously soft. “Surviving is small. You’re more than that. You want real power, or at least real freedom. Orthani can’t grant it. Even Vaelith’s lenience is a gilded cage. If you prefer to remain a caged soldier, that’s your choice.”

Her glare intensifies, but the dagger doesn’t push deeper. She hates that part of her agrees with me. I sense it in the flicker of her eyes. “Why should I trust you? The Red Purna used me as bait. You’re tied to them, aren’t you?”

A knot of anger tightens in my gut. “I owe them no loyalty. They pay me, but that’s all. My hatred for Orthani is mine alone. The Red Purna manipulates anyone they can, but I manipulate them right back. If you trust me even a fraction, it’s because we share a mutual enemy.”

She lowers the dagger a hair. “We’re both locked in games with bigger players. But that doesn’t guarantee we won’t betray each other the moment it’s convenient.”

I release a short laugh. “At least we’re honest about that.

Let’s accept the possibility that we might betray each other, but hold off until we topple the real threats.

Ai is your reason. My revenge is mine.” Heat crackles as we stand this close, the orchard’s lamps leaving half our faces in shadow. “There’s synergy in that.”

She breathes faster, the air around us humming with unspoken tension.

My gaze flicks to her parted lips. I recall how she threatened me last time, a savage promise hidden behind each mocking grin.

The memory ignites a stirring in my blood—fear and desire intertwined.

Possibly the same swirl Vaelith experiences.

But I don’t let it overshadow the mission.

I keep my voice steady. “So, do we have the start of a deal?”

Her eyes flick away, scanning the silent orchard. The hush amplifies the pounding of my heart. Then she glances back, a decision flickering in her expression. “If I help you unravel the council, you guarantee Ai’s safety. That’s nonnegotiable.”

I nod. “Agreed. I’ll make it my top priority to shield Ai from the fallout. Once Orthani’s strongholds crack, we extract her. Then we do as we please—escape the city, or carve out a seat of power.”

Her grip on the dagger loosens. “I don’t trust your rage entirely, Eryx. You burn too hot. You might torch the entire city and let innocents die.”

I step into her personal space, letting the tension coil around us. “If that’s what it takes, I’d do it. But perhaps with you guiding me, I’ll refine my fury. Focus it where it truly belongs—on the people who run Orthani.”

Her breath shivers. The orchard’s night air carries the faint scent of dew on grass, a serene backdrop to our brimming confrontation.

Slowly, she nods, though suspicion still darkens her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll consider your offer. But I won’t commit to random slaughter.

If your plans become too reckless, I walk. ”

I raise a hand, letting my fingertips brush the back of her wrist, where she still holds the dagger.

Her entire body tenses, but she doesn’t pull away.

“Agreed,” I murmur. “No random slaughter. We target the architects of the council’s tyranny.

In return, you use your cunning—and that dangerous magic—to sabotage Orthani from inside. ”

Her pulse flickers beneath my touch. “Deal, for now. But be warned: if you cross me, I’ll gut you before you can draw a blade.”

A slow, feral grin spreads across my face. “That threat turns me on more than it should.”

She scowls, yanking her wrist free. Yet her lips quirk, betraying a flicker of reluctant amusement. A surge of attraction sears my veins. The danger is half the thrill. Possibly she feels it too, but we’re both too guarded to let that vulnerability show.

“Now,” she says, stepping back, “you should vanish before Vaelith or his patrol finds us. I’m not prepared to explain your presence here.”

I let out a ragged exhale. “You’re right.

” My heartbeat hammers at the thought of losing this moment.

But I must retreat for now. I lift my hand, summoning a minimal swirl of chaos energy.

“If you need me, place a discreet sign—a black sash on your window, or any signal you choose. I’ll watch from the city’s rooftops.

We can exchange messages, or I’ll slip in again. ”

She nods briskly. “Understood. But keep your theatrics minimal. Vaelith is no fool.”

“I know.” I slip a hand into my belt pouch, retrieving a small piece of chalk. I press it into her palm. “Draw a half-circle on any outer wall if you can’t hang a sash. My watchers will know it’s for me.”

She grips the chalk, eyes flicking over me one last time. Her face remains carefully neutral, though tension churns beneath. The orchard’s hush feels stifling. I sense we could cross a line if we linger too long. She inclines her head toward a side path, hinting that’s my exit.

I bend slightly in mock courtesy. “Until next time, purna.” My voice drops. “Remember: the day we strike Orthani is the day we taste real freedom.”

She doesn’t respond, just watches me with that intense stare.

The dagger remains at her side, a silent warning.

I pivot, gliding back through the orchard, sticking to the darkest patches where the moon’s glow can’t betray me.

Once I pass the hedges, I scale the same route I used to enter, vaulting over a low fence near the estate’s boundary.

Guards remain oblivious, lulled by my carefully curated infiltration schedule.

Soon, I’m outside Vaelith’s domain again, crossing that dilapidated footbridge over the stagnant canal.

Relief and adrenaline swirl inside me. This visit was dangerous, but essential.

She didn’t outright commit to my plan, but she didn’t reject it either.

That’s progress. Ai remains her soft spot, a precious thread I can tug to keep her by my side.

Navigating Orthani’s labyrinth of alleys, I head toward my hidden safehouse.

The city’s gloom shrouds the rooftops, flickers of orange lamplight marking scattered outposts.

I slip into a narrow lane behind a crumbling tower, then climb a rotted wooden staircase that leads to the boarded-up second floor of an abandoned inn.

Inside, dust coats the floors, and broken chairs lie scattered.

I push open a concealed hatch in the corner, descending into a small, secret room.

This is my chosen hideout, where I store stolen supplies and plot my next steps.

I light a single oil lamp, letting its weak flame cast my reflection on the shattered mirror propped against a wall.

My hair, once pristine white in my noble youth, is now dulled, clipped short for convenience.

The chaos magic swirling in my veins dims my eyes with specks of black and gold, proof of my immersion in dark cunning.

I exhale. My chest still quivers from the encounter with Selene, the raw, hungry tension that laced every word.

Reaching for a battered trunk, I pull out a tattered notebook.

Within its pages, I keep notes on possible allies, smuggling routes, the best vantage points to sabotage Orthani.

I flip to a blank page, scribbling down details from tonight’s talk.

She’s unsettled by my rage, but didn’t refuse.

Good. She might eventually side with me if I manage not to scare her off with my zeal.

The biggest risk is that she remains loyal to her own hidden agenda.

We all do, in Orthani’s shadows. But I can’t accomplish this level of council destruction alone. She’s the missing piece.

My mind replays the orchard meeting, how her tension was a swirl of mistrust and something deeper.

The way her dagger’s flat pressed to my chest, as though testing my solidity.

That half second we came close to crossing a line into some twisted intimacy.

The memory ignites a heat in my gut, a savage desire for her defiance.

She stands among savage men—Vaelith, Zareth—and remains unbroken.

I want that fierce spirit by my side, want to watch her burn Orthani’s illusions with me.

I toss the notebook aside, letting out a frustrated sigh.

If only I could orchestrate a more direct strike soon, prove to her that we can cripple the council.

Yet the Red Purna expects me to lie low, wait for certain pieces to align.

They see me as their assassin-for-hire, a tool for infiltration.

Little do they know I plan to double-cross them if it suits me.

My loyalty is to my vengeance, not their riddles.

Scrubbing a hand over my face, I rise to pace the cramped room.

My gaze falls on a small chest containing poisons gleaned from seedy corners of the city.

Another crate holds black-market crossbow bolts capable of piercing reinforced armor.

Each item is a building block in my arsenal.

But none is as potent as a cunning purna working from the inside.

My grin curls. If Selene taps her magic for me, the city’s caged wards might falter.

Or at least, we could slip Ai out under the chaos.

I vow to push that angle further, coax her to trust me, or at least accept me as the lesser evil compared to Orthani.

Slumping onto a tattered armchair, I let the lamp’s flickers lull my racing thoughts.

My next move is to sabotage a supply shipment rumored to depart soon, a perfect chance to show Selene we can undermine Orthani easily.

If I do it well, she might see the advantage of working with me.

I can slip her a note describing the plan, maybe coax her to assist from within, verifying which route the wagons take.

The more we coordinate, the stronger our bond, or so I hope.

Yet a gnawing doubt surfaces: She might set me up, feeding me false data to keep Orthani’s trust. If that’s the case, well, I’ll see it as a test. This entire city teeters on a blade’s edge.

We all risk betrayal. But I can’t let that paralyze me.

I embrace the thrill, the scorching sense that at any moment, we could tear each other apart.

That sense of lethal tension is half the reason I do this.

Eventually, exhaustion seeps into my bones.

I extinguish the lamp, letting the room’s darkness embrace me.

My eyes remain open, adjusting to the gloom.

The orchard’s image replays in my head: Selene half-lifted her blade, voice hard, yet a flicker of desperation behind her gaze.

The mention of Ai stirs her protective instincts.

That might be the key to forging an alliance.

If we stand a chance at toppling the council, we must keep Ai from being used as a pawn.

I lean my head back, letting the faint swirl of chaos magic flicker along my fingertips.

They glimmer with gold flecks, dancing in the blackness.

I imagine unleashing it on Orthani’s grand council hall, each noble screaming as their illusions of control crumble.

My grin is savage. Then I imagine Selene standing beside me in the aftermath, a shared triumph shining in her eyes.

That fantasy spurs me forward, even as my chest aches with the knowledge of how uncertain everything is.

She might never fully trust me, and that’s acceptable.

We only need an alliance of necessity. Lust, fury, revenge—these can bind us temporarily.

At last, I let my eyes drift shut. My last conscious thought is how her lips shaped the word “escape” when I hinted at offering it.

She wants it, craves it. Perhaps as much as I crave Orthani’s downfall.

Two storms colliding. The question is whether we’ll drown each other in that collision, or ride the chaos to victory.

For now, I sleep, trusting my heightened senses to rouse me if any watchers approach.

When dawn breaks, I’ll set a new plan in motion—one that nudges her further into my orbit.

Because once Selene commits to my cause, I won’t let her slip away, no matter how much it scorches us both.