SERENE'S POV
I stopped dead in my tracks and tried hard to wipe the fear away from my face.
The longer we stared at each other, the more I realized I had seen him before.
My eyes flickered to the necklace around his neck, and his identity came back to me—he was the man who had saved me during my encounter with the NightMarchers. There was no mistaking him. He had the same swirling patterns of tattoos and the same tooth pendant.
His hair, thick and dark, was tied back loosely, the strands swaying with the breeze like seaweed under the tide. His eyes were brown flecked with gold, unreadable.
“You do not heed warnings, do you?”
“You have the wrong person,” I lied.
“Not just stubborn, but a liar as well.”
I let the accusations go unheeded.
“What do you want?”
What do I want? I want
