ASSASSIN'S IN THE RAIN

The city was restless.

Dark clouds gathered like vultures circling prey, thickening over the skyline of H City until the air pulsed with static. From the Sung fortress's rooftop balcony, Seren could see the storm building. It was going to be bad.

She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, but it wasn't the cold that unsettled her — it was the silence. The kind that slithered just before chaos.

Earlier that morning, Ares had disappeared.

He hadn't told her where. He rarely did. But this time, his absence felt... wrong. He hadn't even looked at her during breakfast. Just a curt nod. A message in his eyes: Stay inside.

But she hadn't.

And now, the wind howled like it wanted to punish her for it.

Two Hours Earlier

Seren had felt suffocated.

Training had been brutal. Her arms ached from blade forms she barely understood, her knees bruised from the floor of Ares' silent, merciless dojo. When he left, she'd wandered—against instruction. Down into the lower levels of the fortress.

She told herself it was curiosity. That she needed air.

But deep down, she wanted to see who she was in Ares' world when he wasn't beside her.

She never saw the eyes watching her.

It started with a scent — something sweet and metallic on the wind. She paused just outside the stone path near the orchid garden.

A whisper.

Then—

Movement.

Shadows darted from behind the walls.

Seren spun around, panic flaring.

"W-Who—"

Too late.

A gloved hand wrapped around her mouth, dragging her backward into the rain.

Another figure stepped into view — masked, draped in a black coat. Something in his hand sparked blue — a blade. But not like any she'd seen before. Sleek. Electric. Humming with malice.

"Grab her legs. Don't bruise the face," the leader muttered. "Rael wants her alive."

Her blood turned to ice.

Rael.

She tried to scream.

A blade sliced through the air, nicking her shoulder as she thrashed. Her foot slammed against something — a knee, a shin, she didn't know — and one of the men grunted.

Then thunder cracked like God was tearing the sky in half.

And suddenly—

Everything stopped.

The air thickened.

The shadows recoiled.

A sound echoed across the courtyard — slow, deliberate footsteps against wet stone.

One by one, the attackers turned.

He emerged from the storm like death itself.

Ares.

Drenched in rain, coat flaring behind him, violet eyes glowing beneath the storm light. His jaw was clenched tight, blood spattered across his cheek. His shirt was gone — only dark gloves and combat pants now. His entire body coiled with violence.

He didn't speak.

Didn't snarl.

Just moved.

The first attacker didn't even have time to scream. Ares blurred forward, grabbed him by the face, and slammed him into the wall so hard the stone cracked.

Another tried to run — Ares' knife flew, embedding itself between the man's ribs before he could blink.

Two remained.

They turned to Seren as a shield.

"Move and she dies!" one shouted, blade against her throat.

The rain didn't even flinch.

Neither did Ares.

He walked toward them slowly. Calculated. Like a man with all the time in the world.

"You already signed your death," he said, voice low. "You just haven't felt it yet."

Lightning flashed — and in that second, he disappeared.

The blade at Seren's throat fell.

Blood sprayed her face.

And the man who held her dropped with a gurgle — his throat sliced clean through.

The final attacker collapsed next — spine crushed, eyes wide.

Seren stood frozen in the aftermath, chest heaving, the scent of blood thick in the air.

Ares stood in the middle of it all, rain rolling down his chest, breathing hard. His purple eyes burned as they locked on hers.

He looked feral.

Unhinged.

Beautiful.

Later, in the storm

The rain hadn't let up.

Ares wrapped his coat around her without a word. The warmth of it shocked her—lined with heat fibers, still clinging with his body scent: dark spice, smoke, steel.

"You were told not to leave," he said, voice ragged.

"I—I didn't mean to wander far—"

"You could've died."

She looked away. "You weren't here."

He stiffened.

"Don't you ever say that again."

She lifted her gaze.

"I'm not just something you protect, Ares," she said, voice shaking. "

"I'm not a pawn, remember?"

Thunder rolled above them.

He stepped closer, now soaked to the bone, rain trickling down his cheek like glass.

"No," he murmured. "You're not a pawn. But you're still mine."

The words weren't a threat.

They were a promise.

He reached out, fingers grazing her chin, lifting her face until their foreheads nearly touched.

"You scare me," he whispered.

She blinked. "Why?"

"Because I've killed for less than what I feel when you look at me."

Her heart stopped.

His lips hovered above hers.

And in the space between thunder and breath, the whole world disappeared.

But then—

A comm buzzed at his hip.

He growled low, pulled away.

"Rael," he snapped. "He's making his move."

He turned to leave.

Then stopped.

Looked back at her.

"You're coming with me."

Back inside, in the war room

Ares stood before the digital display, shirtless, furious, dripping water onto the steel floor. Seren stood behind him wrapped in a black robe.

"Rael wanted her taken alive," the AI assistant announced. "Meaning leverage. Or public exposure."

"Or worse," Ares growled.

His fingers hovered over the table.

Seren spoke, voice calmer than she expected.

"Then use me."

He turned sharply.

"No."

"If I'm what he wants—"

"You're not bait," Ares snarled, stepping toward her. "You're not a message. You're not a lesson."

"Then what am I?"

He stopped, inches from her.

"You are the only thing I won't lose."