Chapter 1: The stranger in my dreams

The alley was dark, the flickering torches casting eerie, twisting shadows on the rough stone walls. The scent of smoke and ash clung to the air-just another reminder of the demon world's endless twilight. Eve Goken moved through the narrow passage without hesitation, her sharp eyes adjusting with ease.

Then, a chill slithered down her spine.

Her grip instinctively tightened around the hilt of Merciless, the weight of the sword a familiar comfort. Something was watching her.

She slowed her steps, every sense on high alert.

From the darkness, a figure emerged. Tall, imposing, and dangerously captivating. His silver hair cascaded down his back like a river of moonlight, its length brushing against his waist. But it was his eyes that held her captive-shifting and changing like shadows, revealing nothing. No emotion. No weakness. Just an abyss.

Eve's breath hitched. Her heart pounded, an unsettling mix of fear and fascination taking hold.

The stranger's gaze didn't waver. His eyes bore into hers with an intensity that made her feel like she was drowning. The world around her faded into nothing, time slowing to a near stop.

"What do you want from me?" Eve whispered, barely audible.

But before she could blink, the world distorted. The alley dissolved into a blur-melting away-until she was staring at the familiar ceiling of her bedroom.

Eve shot up, chest rising and falling rapidly.

A dream.

No. It felt too real.

The image of the stranger lingered in her mind. His shifting eyes. The way he watched her, as if he already knew her. A shiver crawled down her spine despite the warmth of her bed.

She barely had time to steady her breathing before her door creaked open.

Aunt Ymir stepped inside, her piercing ember eyes glinting in the dim light. Her curly brown hair tumbled over her shoulders, complementing her chiseled features-high cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and an elegance that made her both intimidating and beautiful.

"Good evening, Eve," she greeted, her voice smooth as silk.

Eve exhaled, rubbing the exhaustion from her eyes. "Evening, Aunt Ymir."

Her aunt gave her a knowing look. "I need you to fetch Azreal for dinner-if you don't mind." A small smile played on her lips. "Your uncle will be joining us tonight. Azreal's presence is required."

That caught Eve's attention. Her uncle?

She nodded in silent agreement, watching as Aunt Ymir turned to leave.

Before stepping out, Ymir glanced over her shoulder. "Be sure to get him before the moon reaches its peak."

Then, she was gone.

Eve sighed, running a hand through her hair. Finding Azreal wouldn't be hard. As usual, he's probably wasting his night at that damn club.

With a swift motion, she threw on a fitted black cloak, tying her hair into a bun. Securing Merciless at her waist, she stepped into the night.

---

The Club

The scent of sweat, liquor, and sin filled the air. Music pulsed through the crowded club, the dim lighting giving everything a smoky haze. Demons laughed, gambled, and lost themselves in indulgence.

Eve scanned the room.

There.

Azreal sat at a corner table, caught in the middle of a heated game. Strands of his long black hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat. His ember eyes burned with sharp focus-not on the game, but on her.

Gina.

The most coveted courtesan in Kettuf Clan. A woman of lethal beauty, famous even beyond their borders.

She moved with slow, deliberate grace, her lace-trimmed corset accentuating every curve. Her dark hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of silk, eyes gleaming like polished onyx. When she danced, the room watched. No demon could look away.

Least of all, Azreal.

"Typical," Eve muttered under her breath, unimpressed. She grabbed a chair, dropping into it with a sigh. Might as well enjoy the show.

But just as everything seemed to be falling into place for Azreal, trouble arrived.

A tall, muscular demon stormed through the crowd, his presence commanding immediate attention. Thrain Blackwood-son of the infamous Karl Clan general. A brute with a short temper and a thirst for blood.

His sneer cut through the noise. "You think you can have Gina, little Goken? Some guts you have!"

Azreal barely spared him a glance. "What a pain in the ass," he muttered, brushing past him like he was nothing. His attention remained fixed on Gina, steps confident, casual.

That only enraged Thrain.

"GOKEN!!"

With a roar, he lunged-claws out, ready to tear Azreal apart.

Eve grinned. "Oh, this is about to get interesting."

Azreal moved like lightning.

In a blink, he spun, smoothly pulling Gina into his chest as he dodged Thrain's attack. His lips brushed her ear as he whispered, "Be a good girl and wait for me."

Then, he let go.

The fight was on.

Azreal drew his sword in a flash, narrowly dodging another swipe of Thrain's claws. He fought effortlessly, his movements precise. But he was holding back-clearly choosing not to injure his opponent.

Thrain, however, had no such restraint.

The crowd roared, demons placing bets as the fight grew more intense. Gina and the other courtesans had long fled, but the bloodthirsty spectators remained.

Thrain's fury boiled over as he realized Gina was gone.

"You bastard!" he roared, eyes wild as he lunged again-this time, sending Azreal's sword flying from his grip.

A final strike, aimed straight for Azreal's throat.

Then-

SHIIINK!

A blade gleamed in the dim light, stopping Thrain cold.

A cold, commanding voice sliced through the chaos.

"That's enough."

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