I studied that enemy captain now. A Rhi’Ahr warrior in the coat of a Navy officer, and it set my blood to boil. Tall and lean, he was wrapped in moonslight and fury. Black hair escaping its queue behind those bloody elven ears, and cheekbones that could cut paper. Like a stormshear, he was, all anchor and clash, a whirlpool of shadow and sky. I found myself pulled into that riptide, whether I wanted to be or not. He turned his face, and, for a brief moment, our eyes met. Lightning shot down my spine, and I fought the urge to look away. Instead, I steeled my jaw, refusing to stand down, daring
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