The night was alive with the scent of steel and whispers of the hunted.
Selene Duskbane perched atop the rooftop, one knee bent, her cloak fluttering in the cold wind. Below, the dim lanterns of the marketplace flickered, shadows stretching like skeletal fingers. Her target was close.
A nobleman, oblivious to the dagger of fate dangling over his throat.
She had been paid handsomely for this kill. More than usual. Which meant this wasn't just a contract-- it was a message.
She ghosted across the rooftops, her movements as silent as the night itself. As she positioned herself, drawing her twin daggers, a shiver ran down her spine. A warning.
Something was watching her.
Selene's grip tightened on her weapons. She had survived too long in this world by trusting her instincts, and right now, they screamed of an unseen danger.
Then-- she saw him.
A man standing at the edge of alleyway, bathed in silver moonlight. His posture was relaxed, almost careless, but his eyes-- cold, sharp, lethal -- locked onto her like a predator recognizing another.
Something about him made her pulse quicken.
He didn't belong here.
And neither did she.
For the first time in years, Selene felt the thrill of the unknown curling in her chest.
She was not the only hunter in this city.
And that meant that the game had changed.
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