Jonathan stood on the edge of the hidden sanctuary, his eyes scanning the ancient structures that lay beneath the crumbling veil of night. The air was colder here denser, as though the shadows themselves had a will. It was the supernatural realm, secretive and treacherous, home to his own kind vampires.
“This doesn’t feel right,” Jonathan murmured, clenching his fists.
He was supposed to be here on business. Emma had followed him, unknowingly stepping into a den of schemes far older than she realized. Now she was gone, and everything the trip, the invitations, the gathering felt orchestrated.
“Was this all a setup?” His voice trembled with a mixture of rage and betrayal.
The thought that his own kind, those he called allies, could be behind this burned worse than any silver. He closed his eyes, focused, and inhaled deeply. Her scent, the sweet trace of her essence, flickered in his senses.
“Emma…”