INK & OBSIDIAN

CRIMSON ALLIANCE

The war council began at midnight.

Julian sat at the head of the mahogany table.

His commanders surrounded him.

Maps covered the surface.

Weapons were stacked nearby.

I entered last.

Every conversation stopped.

Julian looked at me.

"Sit."

I walked to his side.

One commander frowned.

"With respect, Don—"

Julian lifted his eyes.

"Finish that sentence."

The man swallowed.

"She's not one of us."

Julian's fist struck the table.

The sound shook the room.

"Anyone who questions her judgment answers directly to my gun."

Silence.

Julian looked around the table.

"Aria doesn't just ink your skin."

His gaze moved to me.

"She commands the very luck that keeps you breathing."

I felt every eye turn toward me.

For the first time, I wasn't standing behind Julian.

I was standing beside him.

Later that night, I found him in the armory.

He was loading a silver pistol.

"You shouldn't be going alone."

"I'm not."

I picked up his tactical holster.

"Then let me help."

His eyes followed my hands.

I fastened the holster across his chest.

My fingers brushed his shirt.

A strange current passed through us.

He caught my wrist.

"If I don't come back tonight..."

"You will."

"Aria."

"You will."

His expression softened.

"You're very confident."

"Because your fate belongs to me."

He stared at me.

Then his hand moved to my face.

His lips met mine.

The kiss was fierce.

Desperate.

Brief.

But it changed everything.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against mine.

"This is dangerous."

"I know."

"I could die."

"I know."

"And you still kissed me."

I whispered,

"Come back."

His eyes closed for a second.

Then he left.

And I stood alone in the armory, realizing I had finally crossed the line I'd been terrified to approach.