ELOWEN
WEDNESDAY
Something was wrong.
I felt it the moment I stepped on stage — a prickle at the back of my neck, an unease I couldn't name. The bond with Fao hummed steady in my chest, reassuring, but there was something else. Something outside of that.
I moved through my routine on autopilot, letting the music guide my body. The pole was familiar, the lights hot, the faces in the crowd a blur of anonymous want. This was my job — not my passion, not my dream, but good money and flexible hours and a way to keep the cabin and my independence.
I hooked my leg around the pole and spun, arching my back, letting my hair fall loose. The crowd appreciated it — I could hear the murmurs, the rustle of bills being pulled from wallets. But my eyes kept scanning, searching for the source of that
