Chapter 1
I don't do authors note and stuffs
Just straight to business so have fun
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The tavern was thick with smoke and the stench of unwashed men, but Lyria Veyne didn't so much as wrinkle her nose as she strode inside. Her boots clicked against the warped wooden floor, her dark cloak swirling around her like a living shadow.
She didn't belong here—not in this den of cutthroats and thieves—but then again, neither did *he*.
Kael Arathis lounged in the corner like a king on a throne of filth, one boot propped up on the table, a half-empty bottle of amber liquor dangling from his fingers. His shirt was unlaced enough to reveal the hard planes of his chest, the glow of firelight dancing over golden skin.
Lyria's jaw tightened.
*This* was the man they called the Firebrand? The most dangerous mercenary in the Six Kingdoms? He looked more like a debauched noble than a warrior.
She stopped in front of his table. "You're late."
Kael's smirk was slow, deliberate. His eyes—a molten, unsettling gold—raked over her from head to toe. "I didn't realize I was on a schedule, sweetheart."
"Don't call me that." Her fingers twitched toward the dagger at her hip. "And you *are* on a schedule. My schedule."
He took a lazy sip from the bottle, his gaze never leaving hers. "And what does a highborn storm-witch want with a man like me?"
Lyria leaned down, bracing her hands on the table. "I need you to burn something down."
His grin turned feral.
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Kael had expected many things when the noblewoman stormed into his life—a plea for help, a trap, maybe even an assassination attempt.
He hadn't expected *her*.
Lyria Veyne was all sharp edges and lightning, her pride as unyielding as the steel she carried. And gods, she was *infuriating*.
"You want me to set fire to the Duke's stronghold," he mused, swirling the last of his drink. "And in return?"
Lyria's storm-gray eyes glinted. "Gold. Enough to buy yourself a kingdom, if you wanted."
Kael chuckled. "I don't want a kingdom." He leaned forward, close enough to catch the scent of her—rain and steel and something wild. "What else are you offering?"
Her palm cracked across his face before he even saw her move.
The tavern fell silent.
Kael touched his stinging cheek, his blood singing with something hotter than anger.
Oh, this was going to be *fun*.
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#**
They rode out at dawn, the tension between them thicker than the morning mist.
Lyria refused to look at him.
Kael, of course, couldn't resist. "You hit like a noblewoman," he drawled. "All fury, no finesse."
She shot him a glare that could have frozen hell. "And you talk too much."
He grinned. "You'll learn to like it."
She didn't dignify that with a response.
But when they made camp that night, and the firelight painted her face in flickering gold, Kael caught her watching him.
And when he winked, she looked away too quickly.
*Oh yes.* This was going to be *very* fun.
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*hope you like it and kindly correct any mistakes for me
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