The storm rolled in without warning.
It was the kind of rain that seemed to flatten the air, turning the streets into rivers and the rooftops into drumskins. Ishan had been up late, unable to sleep after the clash at the pavilion. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the glint of Amina's blade, the faint smile she'd worn as she stepped away.
He was still turning it over in his mind when the knock came.
Three sharp raps — deliberate, spaced, as if the visitor wanted to be sure he was awake.
He moved to the door cautiously, his bare feet silent on the wooden floor. When he opened it, rain-slick darkness stared back. Then, from the shadows, Amina stepped forward, a hood drawn over her hair, drops of water clinging to her lashes.
"You're wet," he said automatically.
Her lips curved. "Observant as ever."
She didn't wait for an invitation — just stepped inside, the smell of rain and something faintly floral trailing behind her. She pulled the hood back, letting damp strands of hair fall over her cheek. The light from his desk lamp caught on her eyes, turning them into molten green glass.
"I thought our next meeting would be… later," Ishan said carefully, closing the door.
"I changed my mind." She began pacing the small space, trailing her fingers over the books stacked on his shelves. "Last night told me what I needed to know about your skill. But skill alone won't be enough for what's coming."
"What *is* coming?"
Amina glanced over her shoulder. "Something you can't back out of once you've agreed. That's why I'm here — to give you the choice before the choice is taken from you."
He studied her, noting the subtle tension in her shoulders, the way her gaze kept flicking to the window as if checking for watchers. Whatever she was involved in, it wasn't simple.
"What do you want from me?" he asked.
She stopped pacing. "I want you to come with me. Tonight."
"Where?"
"You'll see."
It wasn't an answer, but there was something magnetic in the way she said it — a blend of challenge and promise, the kind of pull that could ruin a man or make him unforgettable.
When he didn't move, she stepped closer. Close enough that he could feel the faint warmth beneath her damp clothes, see the droplets still clinging to her collarbone. Her voice lowered. "You felt it too last night, didn't you? That… edge between danger and something else?"
His heart beat louder than the storm outside. "What if I say no?"
Her smile was slow, but it reached her eyes this time. "Then I'll walk out, and you'll never see me again. But you'll spend the rest of your life wondering what would've happened if you'd said yes."
The rain hammered harder against the glass.
And Ishan knew — against his better judgment — he wasn't going to let her walk away.