Alaric's POV
The alley reeked of rot and stale blood, shadows clinging to the walls as if even the night itself didn't wish to witness what was about to unfold. Samael's voice slithered through the darkness, mocking and venomous.
"You've always been the one in charge, making people bend to your rules. You never let someone else take the lead because you fear they'll outsmart you."
I let out a low, amused laugh that echoed off the damp bricks. "Samael, we both know you'll never amount to the man I've become, no matter how hard you try. You threw yourself into black magic, clawed at power like a starving dog, and what did you gain? Nothing. And why? Because you've always been weak."
The air shifted, heavy with menace. A violent gust rushed past me, and when it stilled, Samael's twisted form stood before me. His eyes burned crimson, fangs bared, claws glinting in the dim light. The man he once was had been swallowed whole by this monster of shadows.
