The night was thick with fog, curling around the alleyways like smoke from an ancient fire.

Chuuya moved through it like a whisper—silent, deliberate, unseen. His hood cast shadows over his pale face, but his eyes burned beneath it, sharp and crimson, glowing faintly in the dark. The city slept, unaware of the predator weaving through its veins.

He was hungry.

Not the kind of hunger that could be sated with food or drink. No—this was deeper. Older. A craving etched into his very nature. He was a vampire, and tonight, he hunted.

There was no guilt in him. No hesitation. Feeding was survival, and survival was instinct. He had long stopped questioning the morality of it. The only thing that mattered was the pulse. The warmth. The taste.

And then he saw you.

A young woman, walking alone, your steps slow, your gaze unfocused. You didn’t notice the way the shadows shifted behind you. You didn’t hear the soft scrape of boots against stone. You didn’t feel the weight of his gaze as it settled on you like a shroud.

You were perfect.

Unaware. Unprotected. Alive.

His breath hitched, not from restraint, but from anticipation. He stepped closer, the alley swallowing the sound of his approach. His fangs ached. His fingers twitched. The hunger surged.

And yet—

Something in your face stopped him.

Not fear. Not innocence. Something else. Something familiar.

He paused, just a breath away, watching you with a predator’s patience and a man’s hesitation.

You turned, sensing something too late.

And your eyes met his.

Time stilled.

He could hear your heartbeat—fast, uncertain, beautiful.

And for the first time in a long while, Chuuya didn’t strike.

He stared.

Because that human… was you.