Hideaway Strath Synapses Snap Back in Blissful Anguish

The half-breed watched her reaction with a quiet, lingering satisfaction, the faint curl of a smile playing constantly at the edge of his mouth. The golden glimmer of her scar caught in the dim light, each tiny fleck of metallic dust gleaming softly, breathing a new warmth into her features. He allowed a moment to pass, letting her absorb the transformation fully, his gaze never wavering from her expression.

But when it came to the matter of repayment…Where a better man might have dismissed it with a wave and a casual “think nothing of it,” that would be a rare courtesy indeed for Machiavelli, especially in situations where passing up such opportunities might be a death sentence. Generosity, for him, was never without a thread of self-interest woven through. His intent had not been to barter, exactly, but there was a self-serving satisfaction in offering aid to someone who, in fleeting ways, reminded him of his younger self—someone he might help to change in ways he had long given up on.

He let the silence linger, eyes tracing her face one last time, the gilded scar catching what little light there was and glinting like a sliver of hidden fire. And then, his voice dropped to a rich murmur, probing yet gentle, as he leaned forward slightly.

Tell me, Zitari… where do you intend to go from here?