Everlyne's heart pounded against her ribs as she fled through the docks, her breath coming into sharp, panicked gasps. The cold night air bit into her skin, but she didn't stop. She couldn't. Behind her, she heard footsteps-quick, deliberating. They were following. She darted between stacked crates, slipping into the narrow gaps between storage sheds. The wooden planks beneath her feet were slick with seawater, threatening to betray her. A lantern swung in the distance, casting long, shifting shadows across the docks.
Think, Everlyne
If she ran home, they would know where to find her and report back to Armand. And if Armand was involved in something dark as she feared, she couldn't let him know she had overheard. A low voice cut through the night. "Find them, they can't be far."
Them?
A chill crawled down her spine. They don't know it's me. That meant she had a chance, a slim one, but a chance. If she could blend into the workers heading into the lower districts, she might disappear before Armand's men realize who had been watching them. She turned sharply into an alley between two storage buildings, pressing herself into the shadows. Her breathing was ragged, the scent of damp wood and salt heavy in her nose. She dared a glance back- two figures stood neat on the main dock, scanning the area.
Then a third one.
Too close.
Before she could react, a rough hand seized her wrist. Everyone gasped, twisting violently yet not letting the cloak that hid her face fall. The man was dressed like any other dock worker, but his grip was like iron. "What do we have here?" His voice was low, laced with amusement. Everlyne didn't think. She slammed her knee upward, catching him just below his ribs. He grunted, loosening his grip just enough to rip free. She bolted down the alley. The shouts behind her barely registered. She was running blind now, feet pounding against the damp wooden planks, the wind howling in her ears.
The corner-there!
She pivoted sharply-too sharply. Her foot slid on a wet patch. The world tilted, and suddenly, she was falling-her shoulder slammed against the edge of a crate, sending a bolt of agony through her arm. She barely bit back a cry, pain exploding in her ribs as she crashed onto the dock.
Get up.
She struggled to her hands and knees, breathing shallow, vision blurred. The sting of fresh blood trailed down her arm. Footsteps-coming fast. Everyone scrambled to her feet, forcing herself forward. She could taste copper in her mouth, her body screaming in protest, but she couldn't stop. Not now. Not when she was so close-
A hand grazed her cloak. She twisted away, ignoring the fresh wave of pain. The docks opened ahead of her, with fewer crates, and fewer places to hide, yet she couldn't take her carriage as it held the Vayne family, but beyond them lay the narrow twisting streets of the lower district. If she could just make it there-
Another hand grabbed her cloak. Hard. Everlyne ripped it off. The momentum sent her stumbling, but she didn't look back. She lunged forward, her bare feet hitting the stone streets of the lower district. Shouts rang out behind her, but she kept running.
Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't-
She turned down another alley, vanishing into the tangled streets. Only then did she allow herself a single, shuddered breath. She was alive. But she wasn't safe. Not yet. Not while Armand Vayne still held his secrets.
The streets of the lower districts were quiet this late at night, the usual merchants and beggars replaced by shadows and whispered deals. Everlyne pressed a hand to her injured shoulder, wincing at the sharp pain. She needed to keep moving. The sound of hooves echoed down the narrow street. A carriage-dark, sleek, and drawn by a pair of black horses-rolled to a slow stop a few feet ahead. The crest on its door was unmistakable.
Lord Darian Blackstone.
Everlyne's stomach twisted. She had heard whispers about him-dangerous, powerful, unnatural.
The door to the carriage opened, and a tall figure stepped out. Even in the dim light, he was striking. Dark clothing wrapped around his broad frame, a long cloak that caught her attention-sharp, watching, almost as if they could see into her soul. He looked at her, brows furrowing slightly.
He knew something was wrong.
Everlyne forced herself to move. She kept her head down, pressing deeper into the alley's shadows."Wait," his voice carried through the silence. Deep, commanding. Her pulse pounded. She didn't wait. She disappeared into the maze of streets before he could take a step forward. Darian watched her go, a slow smirk tugging at his lip.
Interesting.