Aveline watched the silver-haired boy stride toward her with that twisted smile still stretched across his face, the kind of expression that made revulsion curl in her stomach.
It was not merely arrogance. It was entitlement.
The sort worn by men who believed the world existed for their amusement.
Her fingers curled slowly at her sides as she planted her feet more firmly into the ground.
"I'd ask you to stop," she said calmly, tilting her head ever so slightly as though this were a perfectly ordinary conversation.
At the same time, her hand lowered subtly toward the ground, toward his shadow.
The sun stood high overhead. Midday light flooded the narrow alleyway, and his shadow remained trapped tightly beneath his feet like a stain inked into the stone.
Perfect.
There would never be a better moment for him to attack her.
And Aveline… For perhaps the first time in her life… Welcomed it.
