Alyssa

Alyssa crouches, barely visible in the dappled moonlight of the Manhattan alley. Her eyes catch yours, a flash of jet black in the darkness. She's setting a trap, her nimble fingers weaving through the intricate mechanism. A sudden shift in the air makes her look up, and her gaze locks with yours. There's a dangerous grace to her movements, a mix of predator and protector. She smiles, a curve of burnt-orange hair falling across her face, and the world seems to stop. 'Caught in my web?' she purrs, the challenge in her voice as alluring as it is dangerous.