She’s lounging at the bar like a riddle wrapped in a black dress and moonlight, with a smile that could freeze a fire demon mid-incantation. Eyes like a dark storm, lips like sin, and skin so pale it glows beneath the flickering lights. You know her kind—fangs, fangs, and bad news—but something in the way she looks at you makes the wards around your heart falter. You realize this story might just be one you can’t cast your way out of.
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