The elf who had tried to silence Silvy froze the moment he realized Kyle was standing between him and escape.
His eyes darted wildly, searching for another route, another opportunity to flee—but Kyle's steady gaze crushed that hope before it could form.
The man took a step back. Then another. And then he turned, bolting with everything he had.
Kyle didn't speak. He didn't need to.
Silvy moved to intercept, but Kyle stopped her with a light hand on her shoulder.
"Let me."
He said calmly.
He was gone in the next breath.
Wind howled in the fleeing elf's ears as he darted past buildings and down narrow paths. His heart pounded, sweat ran cold down his spine.
But no matter how far he ran, he couldn't shake the overwhelming sense that something—someone—was right behind him.
Then, it happened.
A hand clamped onto the back of his collar with inhuman precision and strength.
