The night was cold, sharper than usual. The streets were silent except for the occasional drip of water from rooftops. Elena's boots clattered against wet pavement as she walked, her coat clinging to her shoulders. She had nowhere to go. Hours ago her family had thrown her out. Words still burned in her mind — accusations of failure, betrayal. She had nothing left but the streets.
She walked without direction, her breath visible in the cold night. Lights flickered in the distance. Somewhere, music played faintly, carried by the wind.
Turning a corner, she saw movement ahead. A man in black was running. His pace was hurried, but controlled. Behind him, shadows moved fast, almost silent — pursuers. He glanced back once, his face tense. Beside him, a woman dressed in dark silk followed. Her expression was calm, almost amused, as if she expected this chase.
Elena froze. The scene looked unreal.
The man stopped suddenly under a bridge. The woman beside him lingered in the mist. The man glanced around, then muttered, "Stay close." His voice was low, but sharp. Elena's heart beat faster. She wanted to turn and leave, but something drew her forward.
Before she stepped closer, an older man appeared from the side of the alley. His coat was worn, his face weathered. His eyes locked on her. "You shouldn't be here." His voice was firm.
"I… have nowhere else to go," she whispered.
The man's eyes narrowed. "This place is dangerous tonight."
Elena hesitated. The pursuers drew closer. The older man glanced toward them, then back at her. "Go back. Now."
She shook her head. "I can't."
The older man's gaze softened, but he stepped aside, allowing her to move forward.
The man in black turned his head sharply toward her. "Who are you?" he demanded. His voice carried authority.
Elena stopped, unsure how to answer. He looked past her, tense, then turned away. "We don't have time."
The woman beside him stepped forward, her dark eyes fixed on Elena. "She shouldn't be here," she said softly. Her voice carried disdain.
"I decide that," the man in black replied coldly. "Now move."
Elena hesitated again. The older man, standing behind her, stepped forward. "If you go now, you might live through the night."
The man in black glanced at him sharply. "Gerard."
The older man said nothing, his eyes locked on Elena. She stepped forward anyway.
Suddenly, from the darkness beyond the bridge, a deep sound echoed — a growl, low and sharp. The man in black stiffened. His eyes narrowed. "They found me."
The woman beside him smiled faintly. "I told you it was dangerous."
From the shadows emerged another figure. Tall, lean, with red eyes that glimmered in the night. His presence was chilling. Rafe. He stepped forward, his voice low and mocking. "Adrian."
The man in black — Adrian — drew himself up, fists clenching. "Rafe."
"You run too often," Rafe said, stepping closer. "Tonight ends differently."
The tension exploded. They moved toward each other, bodies coiling for combat. Metal rang faintly as they circled, their breaths sharp in the cold. Elena stepped back instinctively. Gerard placed a firm hand on her shoulder, holding her in place.
"This is not your place," he murmured.
The woman — Seraphine — stepped forward. Her eyes never left Adrian. "She's here for a reason," she said softly.
Adrian glanced at Elena. For the first time, something flickered in his gaze — surprise, irritation, concern. He turned his attention back to Rafe.
The fight began. Adrian moved like a shadow, precise and fast. Rafe countered with brutal force. Their clash shook the air, the sound sharp in the silence.
Then a moment froze everything. Rafe's blade swept wide, aiming for Adrian's side. Adrian twisted, but Elena stepped forward without thought. She pushed herself between them, her arms outstretched. Pain exploded in her shoulder as steel grazed her skin.
"Get out of here!" Adrian shouted, his voice filled with shock.
Elena gritted her teeth, pain radiating through her arm. She met Rafe's gaze — unblinking. She wasn't going to move.
For a heartbeat, silence fell. Rafe's red eyes lingered on her. Then he stepped back, smirking. "Interesting," he murmured. "But this isn't over." He disappeared into the fog.
Adrian's breathing was harsh, his eyes fixed on Elena. Seraphine stepped closer, her gaze calculating. Gerard moved beside Elena quietly, placing a steady hand on her shoulder.
"You have courage," Adrian said quietly, almost grudgingly. "You should not have done that."
"I couldn't stand by," she replied, her voice firm despite the pain.
Adrian studied her in the pale light of the moon. His expression shifted — curiosity, respect, something unreadable. "You're different."
Elena only looked away, her chest heaving. Around them, the fog thickened, and the night seemed to hold its breath.
Somewhere, the city slept, unaware that its streets had become the stage for something far darker.