The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as I finally wrapped my fingers around the warm mug. The day had been a relentless grind, draining every ounce of energy from my body. Exhaustion clung to me like a second skin, heavy and unshakable.

All I wanted was a moment of quiet. A chance to let the caffeine do its job.

Cool fingers brushed against the nape of my neck.

The sensation was light—almost fleeting—but the touch carried a quiet firmness, settling on the collar of my shirt.

Instinct kicked in. I turned sharply, my pulse spiking.

And there she was.

Acheron.

Her violet eyes held me in place, calm yet unwavering, the kind of gaze that saw straight through a person.

"Greetings," she murmured, her voice smooth and unhurried, like a note plucked from an unfamiliar melody.

A pause. A knowing silence.

She watched, amused, as my gaze dipped—not to meet her eyes, but to settle lower. Lingering. Unapologetic.

Acheron's lips curled slightly. Predictable.

Without a word, her form flickered—like a candle flame caught in the wind—shifting seamlessly into her Limitless state.

White hair cascaded over her shoulders. Crimson eyes burned through the dim light. An unmistakable transformation.

And yet, my eyes? Still fixed on the same damn spot.

Acheron exhaled, slow and deliberate.

Her fingers moved, long and delicate, green-painted nails grazing my skin as she caught my chin between them.

With an effortless tilt, she lifted my face, guiding my gaze upward until those wandering eyes finally met hers.

A smirk ghosted across her lips.

"If you're going to stare, darling... at least have the decency to make eye contact."

Acheron tilted her head, white strands slipping over her shoulder as she studied me, as if peeling away the layers of my thoughts with nothing more than a glance.

"Lost for words?" she teased, thumb brushing lazily against my jawline. "Or just enjoying the view?"

Her voice dripped with amusement, yet there was an edge to it—a sharpness laced beneath the velvet, a warning wrapped in honey.

The way she loomed over me, the way her presence filled the space, made it clear: this was no casual encounter. This was deliberate. Calculated.

And I? I was exactly where she wanted me to be.

My fingers curled around the coffee mug, as if grounding myself in something tangible. But Acheron wasn't interested in giving me an escape.

She leaned in, close enough that I could feel the ghost of her breath against my skin. Close enough that the scent of something dark and intoxicating—something unmistakably hers—wrapped around me like a vice.

"Careful, darling," she murmured, her lips a breath away from my ear. "Staring too long might make me think you want something."

She pulled back just enough to meet my gaze once more, crimson eyes gleaming with wicked amusement.

"Do you?"