[KAEL — POV]
He'd been in Veyrath for two weeks before Riven found him.
He'd given it thirty-six hours after the Carnelian Club before he decided to make himself slightly less invisible, which was the tactical equivalent of leaving a specific door unlocked. Not an invitation—an opportunity for whoever came through it to demonstrate their intentions. Riven came through it at ten in the evening of the following day, which meant he'd been watching the warehouse district for at least twelve hours before he made his approach.
Kael let him in.
Riven Ashvael was three hundred years old and looked like a Renaissance painting that had taught itself to walk. He had the kind of dark, sharp beauty that humans tended to find both compelling and vaguely unsettling—something about the perfection of i
