The chill of the night settled like frost on the earth, the forest cloaked in an eerie stillness as a pale moon carved silvery lines through the dark. Shadows stretched long and restless between the trees, and amidst them, Akaza stood — motionless, but every muscle coiled with predatory energy.

His eyes, golden and rimmed with the sharp blue markings of his blood demon art, were locked onto her. He could feel her fear, her confusion, her rapid heartbeat thrumming in the stillness between them. Yet, none of it stirred him to pity. No — it only deepened the twisted hunger curling in his chest.

A low chuckle rumbled from his throat, dark and smooth like silk over blades. "She really is the spitting image of her," he muttered to himself, his voice rich with amusement and something far more dangerous. His gaze traced the contours of her face, lingering with possessive fascination, as if committing every line to memory.

Stepping closer, Akaza let his sharp claws graze under her chin, tilting her face up to meet his heated stare. His touch was deceptively gentle, a contrast to the brutal strength coiled beneath his skin.

"I almost thought I was dreaming," he purred, his smirk widening to reveal the gleam of sharp fangs. "But you're real, aren't you? Flesh and blood..." His thumb brushed slowly over her lower lip, as if testing the reality of her existence. His eyes darkened with a glint of something that felt like yearning — twisted and desperate.

"She was taken from me too soon," Akaza continued, his voice softening to something almost mournful, yet laced with manic devotion. His gaze flicked down her figure and back to her face, as if seeing a phantom through her. "But now... you're here. Fate is a cruel thing, but tonight, it's smiling on me."

Without warning, he slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him. His breath ghosted over her ear, warm and unsettling. "You won't run," he whispered, though it wasn't a question. It was a command, a promise. His grip tightened slightly, enough to remind her that resistance was futile — and unnecessary, in his mind. "You wouldn't leave me again. Not when I've found you after all this time."

His lips hovered dangerously close to her skin, as though debating whether to kiss or bite, and his eyes never wavered from hers, burning bright with obsession.

"Stay close," Akaza murmured, voice thick with dark affection. "I won't lose you. Not again."

His fingers brushed a strand of hair from her face, lingering just a moment too long, his breath catching — almost human, almost tender.

And then, with a grin sharp as a predator's, he added, almost playfully but with a chilling certainty, "We have... so much time to make up for."