C2 The Market Chase

His eyes locked on mine, and the world around us seemed to collapse into static.

For one heartbeat, I froze.

The East Ward bazaar was a furnace of sound—hawkers calling out deals, the shrill squeal of enchanted animals, boots and hooves clattering across slick cobblestones—but none of it reached me. All I heard was the sound of my own pulse.

He shouldn’t have been here.

Not in this city. Not in this world.

I turned on instinct. My boots pounded the stones as I vanished into the current of bodies. The stink of smoke and copper clung to the air. Lanterns strung across the market swung overhead like burning eyes.

And behind me…

I didn’t have to see him to know he followed. I felt it in the way the crowd parted, in the ghostly tether I thought I’d severed years ago.

I shoved past a vendor’s table, sending jars of crimson powder tumbling to the ground. They exploded in bursts of heat and flame. Shoppers screamed, stumbling back, curses filling the air.

Perfect. Chaos was my cover.

But not from him. Never from him.

A voice followed, carried on smoke and panic. One word. My name.

“Kiera.”

The syllables clawed down my spine.

I didn’t look back.

I cut left, into a narrow street choked with shadows. The din of the bazaar dulled to a distant roar. Pipes rattled overhead, dripping oily water that streaked my hood. My lungs burned, my heartbeat a war drum in my ears.

I pressed myself against the wall, forcing my breath into silence. For a moment, I thought I’d lost him.

Then his shadow slid across mine.

He stood at the alley’s mouth, calm as if he were taking a stroll. His frame blocked the glow of the streetlamps, a predator in silhouette.

He didn’t chase. He didn’t need to.

He knew me. Knew how I’d dart left instead of right, knew how I’d vanish into alleys instead of facing him. He knew, because once upon a time, I’d let him know everything.

My jaw clenched. I wasn’t that girl anymore.

A flicker of movement above caught my eye: scaffolding clinging to the stone like ribs. Rusted. Shaky. But tall.

I didn’t think. I climbed.

Metal groaned under my boots as I hauled myself upward, palms burning, cloak whipping in the wind.

Halfway up, his voice followed, steady, unhurried.

“You can’t run forever, Kiera.”

The sound of my name nearly made me slip.

But I gritted my teeth and climbed faster, dragging myself onto the rooftop. The city unfolded around me—rooftops wet with rain, towers crowned in neon glyphs, smoke spiraling from chimneys. Arkwyn was a beast sprawled beneath the storm, endless and hungry.

And here I was, prey running across its spine.

I sprinted across slick tiles, boots slipping. The market noise swelled below, oblivious to the hunt above.

The wind ripped at me, whispering reminders I didn’t want: the way his touch once steadied me, the way his lies had gutted me.

One misstep would break me. But letting him catch me would destroy me.

So I kept running.

My lungs screamed. My legs burned. The rooftops narrowed into a stretch of broken tiles, ending in a yawning gap.

I skidded to a halt, rainwater spraying around me.

The gap was wide. Too wide.

Behind me, I heard the soft thud of boots landing on the rooftop.

He was here.

“Kiera.” His voice was closer now, threaded with something dangerous. “Stop.”

Stop.

As if I could. As if stopping wouldn’t mean unraveling everything I’d built.

I turned just enough to see him. His hood shadowed most of his face, but I didn’t need to see his eyes. I could feel them.

And damn him, he looked the same.

Broad shoulders. Controlled steps. The same man who had kissed me like I was oxygen. The same man who had cheated without flinching.

The same man I’d left bleeding behind me when I ran.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I spat, my voice a blade.

“And yet,” he said softly, “here I am.”

The rooftops groaned beneath us, the storm pressing closer. Lightning split the sky, throwing his face into brief, merciless relief.

It wasn’t fair. He had no right to still look at me like that. Like I was his.

I forced my gaze to the gap ahead.

“You won’t make it,” he said, reading my thoughts as easily as he always had.

“Watch me.”

My feet pounded the tiles. Wind tore at me. The edge rushed closer.

And I jumped.

The world spun. Air screamed in my ears. For one agonizing moment, I thought he was right—that I’d fall, break, and scatter across the street below.

But my fingers caught the opposite ledge. Nails split. Skin tore. I hauled myself up, blood smearing the stone.

I staggered to my feet, chest heaving, staring across the gap.

He stood on the other side, unmoving. Rain plastered his cloak to his frame, lightning painting his silhouette in silver.

His lips curved—not a smile, not quite. Something sharper.

“You can run, Kiera. But you’ll never hide from me.”

I turned, forcing myself into motion again, though my body screamed to stop.

I didn’t care.

Because if he’d found me once, he’d find me again.

And the chase was only beginning.