The first time Elias saw Roman, it was on a quiet morning at the docks. Roman was standing near the edge of the water, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp as he scanned the harbor. He was tall, with dark hair slicked back neatly, and his clothes—slim-fit slacks and a tailored jacket—stood out against the casual wear of Clearwater's fishermen.
Elias had been unloading supplies from a nearby boat when Roman turned and caught his eye. The man's expression was unreadable, but his presence carried a weight that made Elias uneasy.
He considered walking away, pretending he hadn't noticed, but Roman spoke first.
"You must be Elias." His voice was smooth, practiced.
Elias frowned, straightening. "And you are?"
Roman stepped forward, his polished shoes clacking softly against the wooden dock. "Roman. A friend of Lyra's."
The way he said her name made Elias's jaw tighten. He didn't like how it lingered, like a claim.
"She's not here," Elias said flatly, shifting the crate in his hands.
"I figured," Roman replied, his tone light but his eyes sharp. "Still, I thought I'd introduce myself. You and Lyra seem to be… close."
Elias narrowed his eyes, not liking where this was going. "She's restoring her father's boat. I'm helping."
Roman smiled faintly, a calculated expression. "Of course. She's always been resourceful. Finds the right people to get the job done."
There was something pointed in his words, but Elias didn't bite. He set the crate down, straightened, and met Roman's gaze head-on.
"What do you want?" Elias asked, his tone cold.
Roman's smile didn't falter. "To talk. With her, mostly. But since she's not here, I suppose I'll settle for you."
Elias crossed his arms, his patience wearing thin. "About what?"
Roman tilted his head, studying him. "You care about her, don't you?"
The question caught Elias off guard, but he didn't let it show. "What's it to you?"
Roman chuckled softly, a sound that held no warmth. "Nothing. I just find it… interesting." He stepped closer, his gaze never wavering. "Lyra has a habit of getting people invested. It's one of her many talents."
Elias didn't respond, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.
Roman seemed to take that as his cue to leave. "Well, it's been a pleasure, Elias. I'm sure we'll be seeing more of each other."
With that, he turned and walked away, his polished shoes clicking against the dock. Elias watched him go, a knot of tension coiling in his chest.
When Lyra arrived at the boatyard later that day, she found Elias repairing one of the skiff's benches. His movements were precise, but there was an edge to them—a quiet intensity that hadn't been there before.
"What happened?" Lyra asked, setting down her bag.
Elias didn't look up. "Roman was here."
Lyra froze, her expression tightening. "What did he say?"
"Not much," Elias replied, his tone clipped. "Just enough to make it clear he's not here for a casual visit."
Lyra sighed, running a hand through her braid. "I told him to leave me alone."
"Doesn't seem like he's the type to listen," Elias said, finally meeting her gaze. "Who is he, Lyra? What does he want?"
Lyra hesitated, her eyes darting away. "He's… someone I used to work with. Back when I was living in the city."
"That's vague," Elias said, his voice low.
"I know," Lyra admitted. "But it's complicated."
Elias set down the tool he was holding and stood, crossing his arms. "Try me."
She looked at him, her expression conflicted. For a moment, he thought she might brush him off again, but then she sighed and leaned against the railing of the boat.
"Roman and I worked on a project together a few years ago," she said. "It was supposed to be simple—just logistics, numbers, nothing big. But it turned out to be… messy. He got in over his head, and I got dragged in with him."
"What kind of project?" Elias asked.
Lyra hesitated again, choosing her words carefully. "Let's just say it wasn't exactly legal."
Elias stared at her, his expression unreadable. "And now he's here because…?"
"Because he thinks I owe him," Lyra said, her tone bitter. "He helped me get out of the mess we were in, but I've already paid my dues. At least, I thought I had."
Elias processed her words, his mind racing. He didn't know much about Lyra's life before Clearwater, but he could see the weight she carried—the guilt, the frustration, the fear she tried so hard to hide.
"He's not going to leave, is he?" Elias asked.
Lyra shook her head. "Not until he gets what he wants."
"And what does he want?"
"Me," Lyra said simply, her voice hollow. "Or at least, the version of me that used to exist."
Elias felt a surge of anger, not at Lyra but at Roman and the way he loomed over her like a shadow.
"You don't owe him anything," Elias said firmly.
Lyra looked at him, her green eyes filled with uncertainty. "Maybe not. But that doesn't mean he'll go quietly."
Elias clenched his jaw, his hands tightening into fists. "Then we'll make him."
Lyra blinked, surprised by his words. "We?"
"You're not dealing with this alone," Elias said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Not while I'm here."
For a moment, Lyra just stared at him, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she nodded.
"Okay," she said softly. "Thank you."
Elias nodded, a quiet determination settling over him. Roman might have been a part of Lyra's past, but Elias wasn't about to let him dictate her future—or theirs.