Crimson oath

Rain fell over Blackhaven like a curse.

The city never truly slept. Even after midnight, the streets pulsed with neon glow, the distant howl of sirens, and whispers of crimes no one dared report. It was the kind of place where secrets were buried deeper than bodies.

Rowan Mercer hated nights like this.

He pulled his hoodie tighter as he hurried down the narrow alley cutting between two abandoned warehouses, headphones hanging uselessly around his neck — the rain would have drowned out the music anyway. He should have taken the main road. But the shortcut would get him home twenty minutes faster, and twenty minutes had felt worth the risk when he left his dorm.

It wasn’t.

Halfway through the alley, voices reached him — low, controlled, and something underneath that made the hair on his arms rise.

“You betrayed the family.”

A second voice, trembling. “I swear… I didn’t. Please, Kael. I can explain.”

Silence stretched a beat too long.

Then the gunshot cracked through the rain, and Rowan’s whole body locked in place.

No. No, no, no.

Every instinct told him to run. He looked anyway.

Five men stood beneath the flickering warehouse lights. Four in black suits, positioned like they’d done this before. The fifth knelt on the wet concrete, blood already spreading beneath him in the rain.

The man standing over the body looked almost unreal — tall, black hair damp and pushed back, a coat that fit like it had been made for exactly this moment. Leather gloves. Eyes the color of wet steel, fixed on the man dying at his feet without a trace of hurry.

Rowan’s breath caught somewhere in his chest and refused to move. He’d have called it fear, except some small, stupid part of his brain was cataloguing the man’s face like it mattered — like beautiful was a word that had any business being in his head right now.

He didn’t need to be told who it was. Everyone in Blackhaven knew the name, traded in whispers: Kael Ashford, heir to the Ashford Syndicate, the one who never left witnesses standing.

Kael looked down at the body for a long moment. “Dispose of him.” Quiet. Too quiet, like volume was beneath him.

One of the suited men nodded and turned — and stopped. His eyes lifted, found the mouth of the alley.

“…Boss.”

Kael turned too.

Their eyes met, and for one impossible second nothing in Blackhaven moved at all. Silver held hazel, and Rowan’s lungs simply stopped taking orders.

Run.

He didn’t remember deciding to. One second he was frozen, the next his legs were carrying him back the way he’d come, rain lashing his face, his trainers skidding on wet pavement.

“Catch him!”

He didn’t look back. Looking back cost time, and time was the only thing he had left. He cut left, then right, chasing gaps between buildings he half-remembered from daylight, praying one of them led somewhere.

A hand closed on his hood. He twisted out of it, felt the fabric tear free in the guard’s fist, and kept running — until a black car screamed around the corner ahead and stopped dead across the mouth of the street.

Two more men stepped out, unhurried, like they already knew how this ended.

Rowan spun. Another dead end. Footsteps closing in behind him, three sets now, maybe four.

He made it a few more meters before someone hit him from behind and the ground came up to meet his shoulder. Pain bloomed white and sharp. He fought anyway — elbows, knees, anything he could get loose — until a fist caught his jaw and the world went briefly to static.

Someone wrenched both his wrists behind his back. Cold metal pressed to his temple.

“Enough.”

The voice was calm. It didn’t need to be loud to end the fight; Rowan’s body went still on its own.

Kael crouched beside him, rain running off dark hair, and up close he was somehow worse — sharper cheekbones, eyes that held nothing at all. Not anger. Not satisfaction. Just an unhurried, assessing kind of quiet, like he was deciding whether Rowan was worth the ten seconds it would take to end this.

“Name.”

Rowan’s throat felt full of gravel. “…Rowan.”

“Full name.”

“Rowan Mercer.”

“You saw something tonight.”

“I didn’t see anything.”

Something moved at the corner of Kael’s mouth — not quite a smile, and it never touched his eyes. “People who tell me they saw nothing usually remember everything.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

No.” Kael rose to his full height, looking down at him now. “You won’t.”

He gave a single nod.

Pain exploded across the back of Rowan’s skull, and the rain-soaked alley dissolved into black.