Kael's Stand

The air in the abandoned warehouse, usually thick with the scent of dust and decay, now crackled with a different kind of tension. Kael, his back pressed against a cold, grimy brick wall, felt it coiling in his gut like a serpent. Anya was safe, tucked away in the hidden alcove Elara had shown them, a place even the city’s darkest corners seemed to forget. But Kael wasn't safe. He was the bait, the distraction, the one Silas had decided to reel in.

Silas stood a few yards away, bathed in the weak spill of moonlight that pierced the shattered skylights. His shadow stretched long and distorted across the concrete floor, a predator’s silhouette. Beside him, two of his hulking enforcers, their faces impassive masks, kept a silent vigil.

"You're a loyal one, aren't you, Kael?" Silas’s voice was smooth, like oil on troubled water, yet it carried an edge of undeniable menace. "Always lurking in the shadows, protecting the girl. It’s almost… touching."