The Constellations Of Us

Chapter Six – Shadows Among Crowds

Caelen’s POV

The market was too loud.

Voices collided in the air, shouts of merchants, the bray of animals, laughter, and curses all weaving together into one endless noise. Colors swirled: bolts of silk, baskets overflowing with apples, jars of spice glowing gold and red. The crowd pressed too close, the smell of sweat and smoke thick in my throat.

And through it all, she walked.

Elira kept her hood drawn, the plain cloak hiding the silk and jewels she had abandoned. To most eyes, she might have looked like any other traveler. But I saw the truth beneath the disguise. The way she moved, with the quiet grace of someone raised in halls of marble. The way her eyes lingered too long on small wonders, a glass pendant, a painted mask, a child holding his mother’s hand as though each glimpse was both new and forbidden.

She was fire in a world of shadows. And fire always drew notice.

I stayed close to her side, every sense tuned to the crowd. Hunters could hide in laughter as easily as in silence. A dagger could come from any hand, a whisper could betray us faster than steel. My blade hung heavy at my hip, my curse heavier still.

“Stay near me,” I murmured.

Her eyes flicked up, sharp with defiance. “I’m not a child.”

“No,” I said, scanning the sea of faces. “Children are easier to protect.”

Her lips pressed into a line, but she said nothing more.

We wove through stalls piled high with figs and cheese wheels. A merchant called out, praising his wares, but I ignored him. My gaze swept the rooftops, the alleys, every shadow that might conceal danger.

And then I felt it.

The pull.

The hum beneath my skin, faint but insistent. Magic. Starlight. Even here, in a place of noise and dust, I could taste it thin, fading, like a candle about to gutter. My chest tightened. I forced the sensation down, clenching my fists until the hunger dulled. Not now. Not here.

Elira paused by a stall where silver trinkets caught the sun. A pendant shaped like a falling star dangled from the merchant’s hand, and I saw the longing in her eyes before she masked it.

I almost told her to move on. To keep walking, to keep her head down. But instead, I pressed a coin into the merchant’s palm and slipped the chain into her hand.

She blinked at me, startled. “Why”

“Keep it,” I said, turning away before she could thank me.

Because the truth was, I didn’t know why.

The crowd thickened as we neared the heart of the market. Jugglers tossed knives in the air, children darted between stalls, and banners flapped from wooden beams. But beneath the chaos, I felt it again: the prickle of eyes, the weight of someone watching too closely.

I caught her arm, pulling her sharply into the shadow of an archway. She gasped, about to protest, but I silenced her with a look.

“Don’t move,” I said.

From the corner of the square, a man lingered too long by a fruit cart, his gaze sweeping the crowd with practiced patience. His hand hovered near the hilt of a blade concealed at his belt. Not a merchant. Not a traveler. A hunter.

They were closer than I’d hoped.

Elira’s hand tightened on her cloak, her face pale beneath the hood. “Is it him?” she whispered.

“No.” My voice was grim. “But it won’t be long.”

Her fiancé was drawing nearer. And if the hunters reached us first, the stars themselves might burn out before I could keep her safe.