"You think you've won, don't you, Aria?" Logan's voice echoed in the dimly lit room, his words cutting through the oppressive silence like shards of glass.
Aria didn't flinch. She stood tall, her gaze steady, even as the suffocating tension threatened to choke the air out of the room. "Winning against you doesn't take much effort, Logan," she replied, her tone cold and unwavering. "You've already lost everything that matters."
Logan's lips curled into a cruel smile. He took a step closer, his shadow looming over her, the faint scent of blood clinging to him. "You underestimate me, little Luna. That's always been your mistake."
Before Aria could respond, his hand lashed out, gripping her chin tightly, forcing her to meet his eyes. The sharp edge of his claws grazed her skin, a silent reminder of the power he held—or thought he did.
But Aria was no longer the woman he once knew.
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