5. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
Evandra
The last of the dinner rush had faded into the quiet hum of the hearth, and I was wiping down the tables, the repetitive motion second nature to me. The copper bell above the door chimed, cutting through the stillness. I groaned, not wanting to work anymore for the night- as I glanced up.
Three figures stood silhouetted against the doorway, their arrival altering the air in the room as though the temperature had dropped. They didn’t move at first, their presence was both deliberate and unsettling.
My eyes moved to the first figure, a woman of breathtaking beauty.
She was tall and willowy, her leather armor hugging her lithe frame like a second skin.
Her black hair was cut sharply at her jaw, framing a face that was both elegant and cold.
Her eyes, feline and calculating, flicked around the room with an expression that gave nothing away.
She was completely unreadable, and her beauty felt like a knife to the gut.
The second figure stood a step behind her—a shorter man with a round face framed by golden curls.
Despite his boyish features, there was a sharp intelligence behind the spectacles perched on his nose.
His fine clothing, rich with embroidery and tailored to perfection, spoke of wealth, nobility perhaps, though he carried himself with a casual ease that suggested otherwise.
Then my eyes fell on the third figure, the man standing slightly ahead of the others. My breath caught in my throat the moment I laid eyes on him.
I knew that face—that presence.
Not from memory- but from the place where dreams become prophecy.
I felt my mouth fall open, and I couldn’t bring myself to close it.
My mind raced to keep up as I drank in every last detail of him, each one more vivid than the last. He was large—easily over six feet—and built like a warrior.
His leathers clung to his broad frame, worn smooth in the places that flexed with muscle.
Every detail of him exuded strength and danger, an impression only heightened by the belt bristling with knives and swords slung low on his trim waist. His presence was magnetic, commanding, as though the very air bent to his will.
All three of them wore felt wide-brimmed hats and dark woolen cloaks, each adorned with an identical silver emblem depicting a dragon mid-flight that glinted ominously in the firelight.
I gripped my bar rag in my hand, my knuckles white, as my pulse thundered in my ears.
I had no doubt—this was not a coincidence.
My heart pounded against my ribs, wild and erratic like a caged animal desperate to escape. These strangers were unlike anything I had ever seen, their presence both mesmerizing and unnerving. My legs felt unsteady beneath me, and for a moment, I worried I might faint and embarrass myself entirely.
Then it hit me—the scent . It drifted across the room, faint but unmistakable: spice, incense, and the metallic tang of blood. My breath caught as the memory of it surged forward, vivid and undeniable. It was the same exotic aroma from my dreams, as hauntingly familiar now as it had been then.
I stood frozen, unable to move or even breathe, as the man from my dreams stepped forward.
His movements were slow and deliberate, almost like he was trying not to startle me.
My eyes tracked him helplessly as he reached up, grasped the brim of his hat, and pulled it away with a graceful ease that made my chest tighten.
My heart, already racing, stumbled unevenly, and then it stopped altogether.
Thick waves of chestnut brown hair tumbled to his shoulders. His features were sharp and commanding; his high cheekbones and square jaw softened slightly by the dark scruff decorating his face as though he hadn’t shaved in days. Then, I landed on his eyes.
They burned silver. For a breathless moment, all I could do was stare. This wasn’t a trick of the light. It wasn’t lantern oil or illusion.
It was real.
Star-Glow.
The Rift is real.
My father’s stories, the outlawed histories, the burned books—it had all been true. A forbidden thrill surged through me, quickly chased by something sharper: fear. If someone saw this, if the wrong eyes found us?—
“Hello,” he said simply, nodding in my direction.
My eyes widened, and I felt my cheeks blaze with heat.
I must have looked utterly ridiculous—wide-eyed as a startled doe—but I couldn’t stop myself.
Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I caught the shorter man snickering, but it was a distant distraction compared to the overwhelming presence of the man standing before me.
“Um…” I stammered, staring at him, my feet rooted. My mouth went dry as panic swelled in my chest. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything more or move closer, too bewildered by his presence to think clearly. I cleared my throat, forcing the words out.
“H-how can I help you, sir?” My voice cracked, and I cursed myself silently for wearing my most unflattering dress today. He stepped forward, his boots landing heavily on the wooden floor, the sound reverberating through the quiet room.
“We need three rooms, madam,” he said, his voice impossibly deep, almost inhuman.
Each syllable seemed to linger in the air as if daring me to refuse.
He loomed over me, his imposing frame filling the space between us.
His Star-Glow eyes burned with an intensity that was both mesmerizing and unsettling, but it wasn’t just their brilliance that held me captive.
There was a scar running over his left eye, jagged and stark against his tanned skin—skin that spoke of long days under the sun, far from the shelter of any roof.
I swallowed hard, my heart pounding. He was intimidating, to say the least, and not just because of the weapons he carried. Those eyes—haunting and otherworldly—spoke of such power, the kind that could unmake someone with a single glance.
Was he a criminal? He had to be. And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to turn him away. The thought of refusing him was abhorrent to me for some reason. Though if the King ever found out I had harbored a Riftborn…
“Rooms are 40 pence per night,” I managed to squeak, my voice barely audible.
He didn’t break eye contact as he reached into the tight pocket of his riding trousers, pulling out two gleaming gold coins.
The movement was deliberate, unhurried, and somehow more unsettling for its calmness.
With his free hand, he gently grasped my arm and placed the coins into my open palm, his fingers lingering against mine for a moment too long.
He leaned closer—not to threaten or seduce, but as if drawn by something neither of us could name.
“Keep the change,” he murmured.
My breath came out ragged. The space between us felt charged as if the air itself had thickened. His scent enveloped me, leaving me lightheaded and foggy. Still staring at me, he stepped back.
“T- Thank you,” I breathed, clutching the coins so tightly that my knuckles turned white again. My heart raced, my thoughts spiraling. Was I dreaming? I couldn’t be; I felt too aware of the weight of his gaze, the lingering heat of his touch, to believe this was anything but real.
Trying to regain some semblance of composure, I sidestepped him, my shoulder brushing awkwardly against his massive frame as I moved around him.
“Follow me to your rooms, Mr…?” I asked, keeping my tone steady as I ascended the stairs ahead of the three mysterious strangers.
“You can call me Eldrake,” he replied, his low voice vibrating through the space between us. My heart fluttered at the way he said it, slow and deliberate like the name itself was a secret meant only for me.
“What an interesting name,” I said, forcing lightness into my tone, though my mind was anything but steady. As I led them up the stairs, I caught a murmur behind me.
“Keeping it professional I see,” someone whispered, followed by a soft snicker.
Heat flushed my cheeks, and I quickened my steps, eager to focus on anything other than the inexplicable tension crackling in the air. At the top of the stairs, I opened the door to my favorite room, the canary-yellow walls warm and welcoming in the flickering candlelight.
“This is yours,” I said, stepping aside to let him in.
The room was cozy but straightforward, the large bed dominating the space save for a small wardrobe in the corner.
A sprig of fresh dogwood still rested atop the armoire, the soft smell mingling with the waxy glow of the newly lit candle in my hand.
I glanced at Eldrake, his towering frame almost too large for the small room.
I wondered if he could even fit on the bed.
He stepped inside, his gaze thoughtfully assessing the space before turning back to me.
Those intense eyes met mine once more, and I felt warmth flood my cheeks as I looked up at him.
I had never been shy before; my reaction to him was…
bewildering. There was something about him—something undeniably intriguing.
I’d seen countless strangers come and go, but he possessed an inexplicable energy that set him apart.
And then there was the Star-Glow. Oh— and the unsettling certainty that I’d seen him in my dreams.
A subtle smile played on his lips, revealing slightly imperfect teeth that were just slightly too sharp and only added to his rugged charm. My heart leaped into my throat, and a sudden heat blossomed within me, leaving me momentarily breathless.
“Thank you, Miss...?” he prompted, his deep voice sending a tremor through me.
“Eva,” I managed to whisper.
“Thank you, Eva,” he replied, nodding gently before closing the door between us.
I stood there, frozen, staring at the worn wood grain as I tried to make sense of what had just happened.
My fingers tingled where the coins had pressed into my palm earlier, the lingering memory of his touch refusing to fade.
A faint shuffle of movement brought me back to the present.
I turned to see the other two guests waiting patiently, though their expressions couldn’t have been more different.
“I’m so sorry,” I said quickly, my cheeks flushing again as I realized how rude I had been. “What were your names?” I asked, offering an apologetic smile.
The strikingly beautiful woman’s jaw clenched. “Fen,” she said curtly.
“My name is Felix,” the shorter man offered with a warm smile, his golden curls framing a pair of kind eyes. At least he seemed friendly.
I led the two to their rooms before drifting back to my own, my steps feeling weightless, my thoughts too tangled to register the path I’d taken.
By the time I collapsed onto my bed, I could hardly recall how I’d gotten there.
I lay staring up at the ceiling, the quiet of the inn pressing around me, but my mind was anything but still.
He was just a floor below me.
The thought sent a shiver through my body, and I couldn’t shake the image of him.
My fingers twitched at the idea of them grazing across his skin, mapping every line of his body. Heat flared low in my belly as my mind lingered on his thick lips.
“As if a man like that would ever want me,” I muttered into the quiet.