Midnight cloaked the rooftop lounge beneath silver city light and drifting winter fog while jazz music echoed softly through the luxurious open-air terrace overlooking San Diego's glittering skyline, and high above the crowded streets below the atmosphere remained wrapped in expensive elegance hiding dangerous creatures behind polished smiles and crystal glasses filled with blood-red wine.
Humans called places like this beautiful.
Monsters called them convenient.
Elara stood alone near the marble balcony afterward while cold wind moved softly through loose silver-black strands of hair surrounding her pale face now, and despite the graceful calmness she carried so naturally tonight there remained visible exhaustion lingering beneath silver-gray eyes still haunted by storms, memories, and things ancient enough breaking kingdoms apart.
She should not have come here.
She knew that already.
