And I can always tell when someone is hiding."
My heart stumbled.
I tightened my grip on the cup, knuckles whitening beneath the dim tavern light. Her eyes didn't pry, but they saw.
Too much.
Far too easily.
I forced my voice out, even though it shook.
"I'm… not hiding anything."
She raised one perfect brow.
"Honey," she said again, slower this time, like she was speaking to someone fragile or someone lying or both, "everyone who walks into this inn wearing a cloak that thick in weather this warm is hiding something."
I swallowed hard.
The room suddenly felt warmer. My cloak suddenly felt heavier.
I tried to breathe normally.
The bartender leaned her elbows on the counter, her jewelry quietly clinking.
"What's your name?" she asked.
I hesitated. "Jas… Jade," I corrected quickly.
Her lips curled.
"So… Jade," she said, tasting the name. "Welcome to the Dragon's Cup. The home of misfits, runaways, and wolves who don't belong anywhere else."
She winked.
