The mist parts just enough for him to emerge — flawless, silent, untouchable. He moves past you without a glance, like you’re nothing. Your grip tightens on your blade and you lunge—

But before steel meets air, his hand is already at your throat. Cold. Unshakable.

“Predictable,” he murmurs, crimson eyes glinting. “Try again, Darling. Make it interesting.”