In the dimly lit city alleyways, Rhys Ironwood moved like a shadow, his confident steps echoing off the weathered bricks. His long, chestnut-brown hair, barely visible in the scanty moonlight, framed a face that bore a mischievous smirk. His sapphire-blue eyes gleamed with calculated allure as he navigated the labyrinthine paths, always a step ahead of whatever—or whoever—might be following.