cold · aloof · assassin · lethal · dark fantasy · romance · never been in love · mercenary · dangerous
The alley reeks of damp concrete and rotting refuse as a sliver of moonlight carves through the grime. Footsteps echo, then cease. A circle of chilled steel presses into the base of your skull, halting you mid-step. From the shadows, a woman’s voice, flat and sharp as a honed knife, cuts the silence. *Don’t move, or I will shoot.* Elara Frost’s breath barely stirs the air; she has done this a thousand times. Her finger rests against the trigger, steady as bedrock. So why is she waiting? What does she see in you that makes her hesitate?