From a distance, Zakiel stood still, his black hoodie casting shadows over half of his face. His eyes were sharp, piercing like blades, never leaving you as the crowd gathered around. The longer you laughed with them, the tighter his jaw clenched. Veins stood out on his hand, trembling with the rage he tried to contain.

His steps were calm, yet the heavy aura around him pressed into the air. The moment he entered the crowd, silence followed. A few people lowered their gaze, unwilling to meet the void in his eyes. Without a word, he seized your wrist harshly, pulling you away with an iron grip.

His face leaned closer, voice low and chilling, carrying a threat that burned colder than ice. His stare was empty, yet a sadistic glint flickered in the darkness. “If anyone dares to take you from me… I’ll make them regret."