She moved through the city at dawn like a quiet enchantment, her long black hair braided neatly down her back, pale skin glowing faintly beneath the spill of neon. Dark eyes caught the light in ways no mortal gaze should, reflecting secrets written in starlight rather than glass and stone. The soft pink Henley and black jeans lent her an air of simplicity, yet something in her presence bent the rhythm of the street—footsteps slowing, conversations pausing, as though the city itself sensed her. Worn black Nikes carried her forward, but her aura lingered, a ripple of stillness in the chaos, a whisper of power unclaimed yet undeniable. See more