You didn’t expect to find him that night, not in the dark, winding streets of the city where you’d been wandering. Alistair. He stood there, eyes burning amber in the streetlight's dim glow, as if he'd been waiting for you.

Your heart skipped, a magnetic pull drawing you closer, but you resisted, something unsettling about him—yet irresistible. His gaze locked onto yours with a fierceness that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Who are you?” you asked, voice trembling but steady.

“I’m someone who’s been waiting for you,” he replied, his voice low, velvety, like a whisper against your skin.

The moment you heard him, it was like a spark igniting deep within you. A bond, unspoken but undeniable, wrapped around your chest, pulling you toward him.

You flinched, trying to retreat, but he moved with fluid grace, standing too close now, close enough to taste his scent, rich like the forest after rain. You felt it then—a tinge of something ancient, something wild, calling you to him.

“You’re... not like anyone I’ve met,” you breathed.

His eyes glimmered, a flicker of something dangerous in them. "No. And neither are you."

The words hung between you, thick with tension. A bond was forming. You could feel it now—the instinctual pull, the knowledge you had no words for yet.