At the southern border of Yakutsk, there was a settlement that could only be called a village — small enough, wooden enough, and close enough to the treeline to earn it. The cold there had none of the north's bite. It was the kind of place that existed quietly and expected to be left alone.
"Isn't this interesting… who would have thought you and I would end up at the same party? It must be fate."
Scar had tried to stay away from Luccy, making it as obvious as he could without saying it outright. She wouldn't take the hint. Which made him hate himself for not finishing her off when he had the chance. At this point, she could track his progress without breaking a sweat.
"Why are they looking at us like that…?" Amber asked.
"It must be because of your beauty… the two of you are like walking perfection. Especially you, Amber."
Luccy added and leaned toward Amber, angling for a reaction the way she angled for most things. Amber's face gave her nothing. Not even close.
