*MATURE FANTASY*
Bound by fate, torn by betrayal.
Their souls are intertwined.
She is his mate, and he is hers, whether or not this is something they want.
Elara has spent her life hiding from the oppressive forces of the Light, a powerful cult th...
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I sighed, waiting for the rich prick who I was told always came to this particular bar at this particular time. Osvaldo's movements were horribly predictable, and out of the few wealthy individuals in these parts, that made him an easy target for the Whispering Gale. There were rumblings of their pirate presence making its way along the coastline, as long as someone knew where to look and what to listen for. I followed that path to their next likely stop, and now I waited for them.
It was strange for the pirate ship to take an anticipated path. Until recent events, their whereabouts had always been elusive. It was the thing that had made them valuable. I wondered why that had changed.
As I sat at the bar, nursing my drink, the dim light of the tavern casting shadows around me, she walked in. The woman was like something out of a dream, or maybe a nightmare. Either way, it was a sleep I would eagerly fall back into. Long, black hair cascaded down her back like a river of shadows, while piercing green eyes fluttered over her surroundings. She was clothed entirely in black, a contrast to the raucous colors of the bar around us. There was something lethal about the way she moved, a lithe confident grace. The quiet danger emanating from her nearly made my heart skip a beat.
She wasn't alone, though. Osvaldo sauntered in beside her, his arm possessively around her waist. Women flocked to men like him, drawn in by money and status. A pang of disappointment moved through me at the thought that she was no different.
Osvaldo glanced around the room, his attention ultimately settling on me. "Hey, buddy," he called out, a smirk plastered on his proud face. "Find a table. The bar is all ours tonight." He walked with his chest puffed out like he was a parakeet, and the bar his personal birdhouse.
Well, I didn't expect Osvaldo to take notice of me, let alone talk to me. But I guess I underestimated his arrogance. The whispers of him hadn't mentioned his demanding the entire bar area before, though I suppose the woman at his side might have had him trying to show off.
The asshole's expectation of compliance grated on me.
I raised an eyebrow. "Plenty of open seats," I replied, gesturing to the spacious bar. "I'll sit where I please." The urge to knock him down a few pegs kept me seated.
Osvaldo's smirk slipped, replaced with a scowl. His gaze hardened, probably angered by the fact someone did not bend over backward to please his awfulness. He shifted, turning towards me, releasing the woman with him. "You got a problem, pal?"
He used terms like 'pal' and 'buddy' as if those friendly words made him seem more menacing. It took a special gift for warmth to come off threatening, and he did not possess it. He just sounded like an arrogant prick.
I shook my head, taking another sip from my glass, not bothering to look at him. "No problem. Just stating the obvious."
Meanwhile, the woman turned to the bartender, her voice soft but direct in a way that when she spoke, those around her listened. Her tone was gentle, and inviting, though carried an underlining edge, like the woman was a serpent, poised to strike. She had that gift Osvaldo couldn't muster, a lovely threat in her voice. "Do you have Caelum's Tears?"
