The air smelled of sulfur as Y/N stepped into the crossroads. Dean materialized, his leather jacket clinging to his sinewy frame. His smirk revealed fangs

Y/N,” he drawled. “What’s your heart’s desire?” Y/N hesitated. “Bring back my sister,” she whispered. “At any cost.” Dean’s eyes glinted. “Deal.”

Their pact sealed, Dean led Y/N through shadowed alleys. His touch ignited her skin, and she wondered if damnation tasted like whiskey and regret. “You’re different,” Y/N said. “Softer.”