Moonlit Vows Of Vengeance

By the time I arrived at the old training grounds—abandoned since the last renovations—the rain had begun to fall in thin, icy sheets.

Cassius stood alone in the center of the clearing, his coat discarded, his black shirt clinging to the hard lines of his body, his sword lying untouched on the ground beside him.

Waiting.

Silent.

Ready.

I walked forward without hesitation, boots crunching on the wet gravel.

Neither of us spoke.

There was no need.

I shrugged off my jacket, letting the cold soak into my skin.

Cassius smiled then—a slow, dangerous thing.

The storm howled around us.