Eliard's fingers tightened around the card, its edges oddly warm against his skin. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. The weight of unseen eyes pressed against him, a silent watcher lurking in the darkness beyond the gas-lit streets.
He needed answers.
The city stretched out before him, a labyrinth of smoke and stone. Towering structures, their gothic spires piercing the sky, loomed over narrow alleyways shrouded in mist. Faint embers of light flickered behind dusty windows, whispers of life in an otherwise suffocating silence.
A sudden chill crawled up his spine.
Not from the cold—but from something else.
He turned sharply. The alley was empty. No footsteps. No shifting shadows. And yet, the feeling remained.
He was being watched.
Clenching his jaw, he forced himself to move. Standing still meant death—if not from the creeping dread, then from the city itself. He could feel it now, an underlying hum beneath his skin, like a predator licking its lips.
A place where the strong devoured the weak.
With no memory of his purpose, no allies, and no idea who Eliard Veyne truly was, he had only one choice.
Survive. Unravel the truth. And make sure the unseen eyes watching him never find what they were looking for.
Because if they did…
He had a feeling he wouldn't live long enough to learn why.