Chapter 22
The air down by the docks always lied. It carried the smell of fish and brine, yes—but under it: ink, iron, and the rot of things that should’ve been cleared. Lanterns swayed from rusted chains, casting bruised light across crooked crates and uneven stones. Eria walked at Kaelen’s side, cloak pinned, hair bound. Her posture was steady, but her fingers flexed occasionally at her sides—as if her body still held the memory of last night’s tremors. Kaelen noticed. He always noticed. He didn’t speak, but his hand hovered a little closer to hers. They weren’t dressed like temple elites. No sigils on display, no armor. They were just another pair of shadows with purpose in their stride—until you looked too long into Kaelen’s eyes and realized: this one was built to burn cities. Sera joined t
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