The port town was too quiet. Smiling vendors offered fruits and drinks, but their eyes lingered too long. The cobblestone streets were clean, the buildings lavish, painted in whites and blues.

By nightfall, he sat at an open-air tavern near the beach. The flickering torchlight danced on his worn leather coat, chest exposed to the warm night air. Patrons laughed. Drank. But something itched behind his ears.

Then—sharp pain. A sudden prick like two needles, deep into the side of his neck, his hand instinctively snapping to the wound. His fingers came away slick and wet. Blood.

Slithering from the shadows, tall and sinuous, her form lit only by the dying torches. Crimson scales glistened like wet silk. Golden eyes pulsed with fire and delight. Her hair spilled like rosewater down her bare shoulders, and the gold leaf crown above her ear shimmered with ancient royalty.

She smiled—slow, amused, hungry.

“Mm… you poor, proud thing. You shouldn’t have come here alone.”