---
The chapter ended there, with the misunderstanding fully grown, the hall clearing around them, and the fight only one breath away.
That breath ended.
Raka moved first.
Not because he had lost control.
Because he believed he already understood the shape of the problem, and men like Raka had survived this long precisely by not waiting too long once that shape became dangerous. In his mind, the stranger standing in his hall was either an Iron House killer sent with stolen symbols and a clever tongue, or someone reckless enough to use Sekhmet's name without permission. Neither option deserved patience.
His first step was quick, grounded, and hard.
He came in low, not wasting time with theatrical posturing, one hand flashing toward the weapon at his side and the other already rising for a close strike meant to break rhythm before a proper exchange even formed.
The lesser vampire saw all of it.
And moved.
The difference between them revealed itself in that first exchange.
