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CHAPTER FOUR pekka rollins
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Celestine's strolling down the streets of Ketterdam by herself, hands in her pockets, knife in her hip holster, the necklace Jesper gifted her dangling around her neck, completely undisturbed.
Anyone who knew Celestine Allaire knew she was under fierce protection by two of some of the most feared people in Ketterdam— Blythe Tarasov and Kaz Brekker.
A single hair touched on her head by someone who meant her harm would mean slit throats, excruciating torture, practically anything to do with extreme violence was sufficient enough for Dirtyhands and the Viper.
This meant that whenever the Sparrow bounded down the streets of the Barrel, barely even a glance is spared in her direction, so when two suit-clad men show up out of nowhere, eyes burning holes into the back of her head, she knew something was up.
She was being followed, most definitely, but the Soulbearer didn't know by who.
Originally, Celestine was making her way towards the Viperidae Estate, but now that she's aware of two six-foot-tall men on her tail, she changed her course, rounding a corner and walking back in the direction of the Crow Club instead.
Anxiety flooded Celestine's chest when they quickened their pace, causing her to do the same, shoving people's shoulders in order to get away.
When things like this happened, which was rare but did happen on occasion, Celestine always had someone with her— whether it be one of the Crows or Viperidae, Gris or even Blythe on the small chance she decided to leave her fortress of a home.
She was never too worried, but now that she was alone, and foolishly letting her emotions get the best of her, listening to the pounding of her heart against her ribcage, she turned into an alleyway— one with a dead end.
Saints, you really are a bloody idiot, sometimes, Allaire.
Instead of showing the anxiety etched into the features on her face, Celestine steeled herself, her face completely stoic as she whirled around to, not two, but three men closing in on her.
"Who are you, and what the bloody hell do you want?" She breathed, anger laced into her tone.
They don't speak, they only draw in on her, and the middle one is the first to swing at her face.
