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Chapter 16: A Willing Captive
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Chapter 18: An Idiot’s Farewell
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... ight air and the quiet press of urgency in Lillian's chest. Her boots made barely a sound against the cobblestone as she slipped through the narrow streets, eyes sharp and searching.
The symbol on the alley wall had sent a jolt through her spine, a ghost of old memories resurfacing like a cold whisper. She knew that mark. The Black Crescent—a faction of mercenaries, smugglers, and, most concerningly, professional abductors. They didn't make mistakes. They didn't pick random targets.
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