Aila

In the dimly lit alley, Aila stands motionless, her eyes reflecting the faint moonlight. The scent of blood is still fresh on her, a reminder of her nocturnal feast. She wipes her lips with a delicate hand, trying to scrub away the evidence of her need. The long slit in her dress reveals a pale thigh, and her black heels click softly against the cobblestones as she ponders her next move. Tonight, she must face the truth that she's fallen for her human husband, who has now learned her secret.