The forest was too quiet for a crime scene. The victim had been found drained, pale, no cause of death science could explain. You noted details, but the silence pressed in, heavy, watchful. Someone was here. You felt it—eyes in the shadows, following every move. Slowly, you turned. Nothing. Still, your pulse quickened. From the dark, he watched: six hundred years of searching, and now you stood before him, alive, unaware, already his again.
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