Rain slicked the streets of Dalren City in silver, soaking neon signs and trailing down the tall windows of Nor Ah's tattoo studio. The world outside blurred into hues of violet and gold, but inside, the buzz of a needle filled the air like a low, intimate hum.
She moved with practiced ease, the fine point of her tattoo pen guiding black ink into her client's skin. Tonight's design—a serpent coiled around a waning moon—felt oddly familiar. Her fingers tingled with every curve. That sensation again. Like a whisper beneath the surface of her skin.
She didn't dare ask why.
The door opened. No chime. No footsteps. Just a shift in the air. Colder. Charged. She looked up—and froze.
He stood just inside the threshold. Tall. Still. A man carved from night and quiet fury. Pale skin kissed by moonlight. Hair silver-blond and slicked back, revealing sharp cheekbones and a mouth set in quiet disdain. His eyes… grey. Storm grey. And watching her.
Not her. Through her.
"Nor Ah?" he asked, voice low and smooth, like smoke curling around glass.
She blinked. "Yes… Can I help you?"
The client on her table looked from her to the stranger, unease stirring. She offered a reassuring smile, finishing the last stroke with a flick.
The man—Du Guk, though she didn't know his name yet—stepped closer, eyes narrowing as if the scent of her unsettled something old in him. Blood memory. Hunger. Magic.
He wasn't human. Nor Ah knew it instinctively, the way prey knows a predator is near.
But instead of fear, something low and warm uncurled in her. Heat. Curiosity. A magnetic pull.
"I've heard… your ink holds more than pigment," he said, gaze falling to the runes that shimmered faintly on her collarbone. "I need something permanent."
Nor Ah's lips parted. "My work always leaves a mark."
She didn't know if it was a warning—or a promise.