CHAPTER 197: THE MERCHANT SIBLINGS [5]

Alaric smirked and slipped the coin purse back into his pocket. He his time with it. Let her watch the movement. Let the reality of being caught settle in.

Then his free hand came up, fingers caught a loose strand of her brown hair that had fallen across her face and tucked it behind her ear with deliberate slowness.

The touch was light. Almost gentle.

Which somehow made it more unnerving.

"What were you trying to do?" He asked quietly, like he was genuinely interested in her answer. And his hand hadn’t pulled away.

Instead, it shifted, his palm now cupping her face, thumb brushing across her cheek, slowly.

Delphine’s breath hitched. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Every instinct screamed at her to move, to escape, to do something—

But his grip on her wrists was iron. And something about the way he looked at her kept her frozen.

Not quite fear. But close.

"What kind of punishment does a beautiful thief like you deserve?"

The words came out soft. Almost a murmur.

But the intent behind them was sharp.

His eyes held hers. Watching every micro-expression. Every tell.

Delphine’s mind raced. Trying to find an angle. A way out. Some response that would defuse this.

Her mouth opened. Closed.

Think. Think.

"I—" Her voice came out shakier than she wanted. "I wasn’t—"

"Don’t." His thumb pressed slightly. Not hard. Just enough. "We both know what you were doing."

He leaned in closer. His lips nearly brushing her ear, breath warm against her skin. Which made the hairs on her neck stand up.

"I know a befitting punishment for you." He whispered. Laced with cold amusement.

Then he grinned.

Delphine flinched.

Shit shit shit—

"Get away from my sister!"

Then suddenly, a shout came from behind.

Alaric’s head turned slightly.

Teryn.

The boy was charging with a knife in his hand.

Amateur.

Alaric’s smirk widened.

His hand released Delphine’s wrists. Shoved her to the side in one smooth motion.

She hit the ground. Rolled. Gasped.

Teryn’s slash came fast. Desperate. Aimed for Alaric’s side.

But he sidestepped.

Swish!

The blade cut through empty air where he’d been a heartbeat before.

Before Teryn could recover—before he could even process the miss—Alaric’s leg swept and caught Teryn’s ankles.

Teryn went down hard. His back hit the floor with a heavy thud. The knife skittered away across the wooden boards. Out of reach.

He tried to push himself up. Get his bearings. Move.

Thump!

But Alaric’s boot came down on his chest. Planted firmly. Pinned him there.

Teryn’s hands grabbed at the boot. Tried to push it off. Tried to get leverage.

But nothing he did could budge it.

He looked up. Met those eyes staring down at him from beneath the hood.

Cold. Calculating. Amused.

Then Alaric raised his free hand.

Crackle!

Fire erupted along his palm. Orange and red. The flames danced across his fingers. Grew brighter. Hotter.

The heat radiated down. Teryn could feel it on his face. His eyes went wide.

Alaric’s smirk deepened. The firelight cast dancing shadows across his features. Made him look almost demonic.

"Now then." His voice came pleasant. Conversational. Like they were discussing the weather. "Let’s try this again."

He tilted his head, which made the hood to fall back, revealing his face fully.

Delphine’s breath caught as she saw him.

Beautiful.

That was the first thought that hit her. Couldn’t help it.

Sharp features. High cheekbones. The kind of face that belonged on marble statues in. The kind artists spent years trying to capture and never quite managed.

Obsidian black hair fell across his forehead. Messy from the hood but somehow making him look more striking rather than unkempt.

And his eyes. Those crimson eyes were bright and vivid like fresh blood. Like rubies catching firelight. Completely inhuman in their intensity.

And staring down at her brother with cold amusement while flames danced across his palm.

Then suddenly, recognition slammed into Delphine like a physical blow.

No. No no no!

Her face went pale. All the color draining in an instant.

That face. Those eyes. She’d seen him. Heard descriptions from other merchants who’d passed through the manor district.

The Glimor family’s young master.

Fuck. We tried to rob the baron’s heir.

She moved before conscious thought caught up. Dropped forward. Pressed her forehead against the dirty floor.

"I’m sorry! I’m so sorry... please—"

Her voice came out strangled. Desperate. All that careful composure shattered completely.

"We didn’t know—we didn’t recognize you—please, my lord—"

Teryn blinked. Confusion flickered across his face despite the boot on his chest and the fire inches from his face.

Then Delphine’s next words hit.

"Lord Alaric... please forgive us, we didn’t mean... "

Lord Alaric.

Teryn’s eyes went even wider. His struggling stopped immediately.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck fuck fuck!

His hands released Alaric’s boot. Fell to his sides.

He couldn’t even speak. Terror had locked his throat completely.

Delphine kept her forehead pressed to the floor. Her whole body trembling.

"Please, Lord Alaric. We-We’ll return everything. We’ll-Whatever you want... just please..."

Her voice cracked. Actual fear bleeding through.

They were dead. Completely dead.

Unless he showed mercy.

And nobles weren’t exactly famous for mercy toward thieves.

They had learnt it firsthand.

Just a moment Alaric’s foot lifted.

The boy gasped. Sucked in air like he’d been drowning. But he didn’t move. Didn’t dare.

Alaric stepped away. The flames on his hand flickered once more before dying out completely.

He turned his attention back to the modified goods. Picked up one of the carved boxes again. Examined it with genuine interest now rather than suspicion.

"You really put effort into this."

His tone was almost appreciative. Clinical. Like he was evaluating craftsmanship rather than evidence of fraud.

He set the box down. His eyes tracked across the workspace. Taking in the tools.

Then he paused.

A bundle of parchment sat near the edge of a shelf. Partially hidden behind some fabric rolls.

His hand reached out. Pulled the bundle free.

Behind him, Delphine’s breathing stopped entirely. Her forehead still pressed against the floor but her entire body had gone rigid.

Please don’t be...

Teryn’s heart hammered so hard he could hear it in his ears. His hands clenched into fists against the floor.

Those are the forged documents. We’re dead. We’re so fucking dead.

Alaric unfolded the top sheet. His eyes scanned the contents.

The forged authorization. The fake contracts they’d used on Vorn. Other documents in various stages of completion, different noble houses, different signatures, different seals.

All meticulously crafted. All utterly illegal.

His eyes narrowed.

The silence stretched. Heavy. Suffocating.

Delphine could barely breathe. Her nails dug into the wooden floor.

This is it. He’s going to call the guards. We’ll hang for this.

Then—

Alaric’s lips curved.

A smirk spread across his face.

Not anger.

Just amusement.

He looked up from the documents. His crimson eyes gleaming with something that wasn’t quite malicious but definitely wasn’t safe either.

"Well now. This is interesting."