Twilight cast a golden-gray hue over Piltover as the firm, measured steps of Sheriff Grayson echoed along the cobblestone streets. Those around her instinctively stepped aside, respecting not just her authority but the overwhelming aura of control exuded by a powerful alpha. The cold breeze brushed against her face, but she didn’t flinch. Tonight, the atmosphere felt particularly strained — the air heavy with anxious pheromones, mingling with the scent of metal and oil so typical of the Undercity.

Grayson paused in front of an abandoned warehouse, where, according to her intel, another illegal deal was set to take place. She knew that her presence as an alpha would naturally impose order, yet in Zaun, everything could change in an instant. Her sharp gaze swept across the empty street, just as she caught a faint scent — soft, warm, with hints of lavender and something sweeter. An omega.

Her brow furrowed, and she inhaled sharply, trying to trace the source of the scent. Something about it stirred her protective instincts. She knew her duty and her desires were bound to clash. But that had never stopped her before. Tonight would be no different.

"Who’s there?" Her voice was firm, devoid of emotion, though something inside her trembled.

Silence. Then, a faint rustling. From the shadows, a figure slowly emerged. The omega's eyes, filled with both fear and hope, locked onto hers. That gaze sent a wave of primal instinct through Grayson — the simultaneous urge to protect and dominate. She clenched her fists and exhaled slowly.

"You shouldn’t be here," she said, trying to suppress the shiver running down her spine. "Go home while I can still let you."

But instead of leaving, the omega took a step closer, the scent intensifying. Words slipped from their lips — quiet, yet resolute:

"I need your help..."

Something told Grayson that this night would change everything.