The Night That Called My Name

Elowen never feared the night. She found solace in the whisper of rain against old stone, in the scent of earth after a storm, in the creaking song of crickets beneath the moonlight. But on one fateful evening, the night did more than embrace her—it called her name.



Ishmael was a creature of shadows, a demon bound by fate and blood, cursed to linger at the edges of a world that no longer spoke his language. He had seen centuries pass, watched empires crumble, and yet, when he saw her—this fragile, fearless girl wandering through the dark—something within him stirred.



She should have run. He should have let her.



But instead, their gazes met, and in that moment, the line between salvation and damnation blurred.