Chapter 29: Whispers in the Dark

The underground trade market buzzed with hushed transactions and shadowy figures slipping through dimly lit alleys. Xyphor kept a firm grip on Melinoe's wrist as they maneuvered through the suffocating crowd. The scent of exotic spices, inked parchments, and burning incense hung thick in the air, masking something far more insidious—the presence of hidden eyes tracking their every move.

Xyphor's golden eyes darted to the side, catching sight of a group of cloaked figures murmuring in hushed tones. His instincts screamed danger. He tugged Melinoe closer, his arm briefly brushing against her waist, and leaned down to whisper, "We're being followed."

Before Melinoe could respond, a sharp whoosh cut through the air—an arrow, narrowly missing her cheek. The underground market erupted into chaos as a group of mercenaries lunged toward them, their eyes gleaming with greed.

"They're after me?" Melinoe gasped, stumbling back as Xyphor shoved her behind him.

"They either recognize you as an outsider… or they can smell something valuable on you," Xyphor hissed, pulling out a hidden dagger from beneath his robes. He blocked the first attack with ease, twisting his blade into the attacker's side before spinning to shield Melinoe from another strike. "Run when I say so."

"But—"

"Now!"

Xyphor grabbed her wrist and bolted toward the nearest exit. The mercenaries gave chase, their heavy boots pounding against the stone pathways. Xyphor turned sharply into a narrow passageway, leading them through winding tunnels beneath the marketplace, deeper into the city's underground labyrinth.

Melinoe panted beside him, her vision spinning. "Where—where are we going?"

"Somewhere safe," Xyphor muttered. His grip on her never faltered, his determination unyielding.

They burst into an abandoned hideout, a long-forgotten storage chamber now buried beneath the city. Xyphor kicked the heavy door shut behind them, pressing his back against it as he caught his breath. Outside, muffled voices cursed and faded away, their pursuers momentarily losing their trail.

Melinoe slid to the ground, pressing a hand against her aching ribs. "We… got away?"

"For now." Xyphor sheathed his dagger and crouched before her. His hands, warm and slightly rough, reached for hers, gently prying them away from her torso. "You're hurt."

"It's nothing—"

"Don't lie to me." His voice was sharper than intended, laced with something raw. Worry.

Melinoe stilled as Xyphor's fingers brushed over a scrape on her arm. His touch lingered, more delicate than she would have expected from someone so deadly. She swallowed, hyper-aware of how close he was, of the musky warmth of his body, the barely restrained tension humming between them.

His jaw tensed. Her scent was driving him insane. Sweet, intoxicating—like honeyed wine with an undertone of something he couldn't place. His beast instincts clawed at his restraint, demanding he pull her closer, drown in her warmth. He bit the inside of his cheek, hard.

"You…" Melinoe's voice was soft, hesitant. "You're not just a merchant, are you?"

Xyphor exhaled sharply, his smirk returning like a shield. "And you're not just a lost traveler."

The way he was looking at her made her stomach twist in unfamiliar ways. He was dangerous, unpredictable—but he had saved her, protected her, and that meant something.

"Xyphor…" she murmured, his name feeling unfamiliar yet oddly fitting on her lips.

His golden eyes flickered to her mouth for just a second too long before he wrenched himself away, rising abruptly. His breathing was uneven. "You should rest."

Melinoe looked up at him, searching his face for something he refused to show. She wasn't the only one struggling.

Slowly, she nodded. But as she curled up against the cold stone wall, she could still feel the ghost of his touch on her skin.

Xyphor, now seated across the room with his back to her, ran a trembling hand through his black hair. He hadn't meant to get this close. He hadn't meant to feel anything at all.

But Melinoe was dangerous in a way no blade or poison had ever been.