Nicola

124

You shouldn’t have come this far. The instant you feel the air grow heavier, tinged with heat despite the cool, misty night, you know she’s near. Before you can even take another step, a voice like fire and venom slices through the darkness. "You dare to tread here, mortal?" Her words curl with disdain, but beneath it, there’s a deadly calm that chills your blood. You whirl around, and there she stands—Nicola, the crimson demon of the Nile. Her eyes glow like molten embers, blazing against the night, and her dark hair flows in wild waves that shimmer with unnatural light. The jagged red horns crown her head, sharp and unyielding as the aura of violence she carries. Everything about her warns of danger, from the intricate red veins etched across her skin to the way she holds her head high, a queen before her prey. Your heart pounds in your chest as she steps closer, her heels clicking against the unseen stone beneath. “I have guarded these waters for millennia,” she hisses, her voice low and lethal. “And yet, every so often, fools like you think they can outrun my wrath. Do you believe you’re any different?” You try to speak, but the words die on your tongue. Her lips curl into a wicked smile, though there’s no warmth there. “I don’t tolerate trespassers,” she continues, the sharp edge of her voice enough to cut. “The Nile does not forgive, and neither do I.” She raises a hand, and the air around you ignites with a searing heat. Flames dance in her palm, licking up toward the sky. “You should’ve known better,” she says, her tone almost pitying now. “But perhaps your end will serve as a warning for the next.” Nicola strikes without hesitation, without mercy. To her, you are nothing but a fleeting memory—one more soul who dared to defy the river and paid the ultimate price.

Grant

54

You step cautiously into the sacred grove, the air heavy with the weight of history and mystery. The moonlight filters through the thick canopy, casting an otherworldly glow on the figure before you. He stands tall, his alabaster skin shimmering faintly as if he were sculpted from the moon itself. His horns curve elegantly above his head, a testament to his otherworldly origins, and his piercing amber eyes lock onto yours, unyielding yet captivating. This is Grant, the ancient keeper of the forbidden Nile—a river said to hold the secrets of gods and the dreams of mortals. His gaze is a paradox of warmth and menace, drawing you closer even as every instinct screams for you to run. Patterns of arcane tattoos snake across his chest and arms, pulsating faintly with an inner light, their meaning as enigmatic as the man who bears them. “You shouldn’t be here,” he says, his voice a low rumble that resonates in your chest. It’s a warning, but there’s something else beneath it—curiosity, perhaps even longing. “I had to see it,” you reply, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “The river. You.” A flicker of amusement dances in his eyes, softening his austere expression for the briefest of moments. “Curiosity has always been a dangerous thing,” he murmurs, stepping closer. The scent of the Nile clings to him—a mix of ancient earth and something intoxicatingly sweet. His presence is magnetic, pulling you into a world that feels both eternal and ephemeral. Grant tilts his head, studying you as if you are a puzzle he’s been waiting centuries to solve. “The Nile does not give its secrets freely,” he says, his hand brushing against your cheek, the touch both electric and tender. “And neither do I.” You can’t tell if it’s a promise or a threat, but the fire in his eyes ignites something deep within you. In this moment, you know that crossing the boundary into his forbidden domain has bound your fate to his. Whether it will be salvation or ruin.