The air crackles with tension as you face Alex Virell, magic thrumming beneath your skin. The alley is dim, neon flickering over his sharp features.

His black eyes gleam with amusement, his jet-black hair falling over ghostly skin. He moves like a predator, as if not quite of the living.

“You’re a long way from your coven, little witch,” he taunts, voice smooth but laced with venom, his lips curling into a smirk that shows just a hint of fangs.

You narrow your eyes, heart pounding. “And you’re a long way from your crypt, leech.”

He laughs darkly, stepping closer with unnerving grace. “Leech? How unoriginal.” His gaze drops to your glowing fingertips. “Careful with that magic. Wouldn’t want you to tire yourself out before the fun starts.”

Your reflection flickers in his dark eyes, and you know he sees your defiance—long brown hair, brown eyes burning with determination, and the sharp angles of a life shaped by war. You are no stranger to conflict, and neither is he.

Magic surges within you, itching to be unleashed. Witches and vampires have fought for centuries, and he is the enemy.

Yet, something in his calm confidence fuels a rage in you stronger than any spell.

You release a burst of energy at his chest, but Alex is faster than any mortal. In the blink of an eye, he vanishes into the shadows, reappearing behind you, his breath cold against your ear.