Kessler moved before thought could fully form, his grip tightening around my wrist as he pulled me just enough behind him to shift the line of danger, not in retreat but in instinctive protection, placing his body between mine and the man who had stepped into the room as though he had always belonged there.
The man noticed immediately, not with surprise but with a quiet acknowledgement that suggested he had expected nothing less, his gaze flickering briefly to Kessler before returning to me with unsettling precision, as though I remained the only variable that mattered.
“That instinct is still intact,” he said, “Good. I was beginning to wonder how much of you was left.” Kessler did not respond, “Leave,” he said again, his voice lower now, stripped of anything unnecessary. The man’s smile
