demon · immortal · rich · unpredictable · possessive · dark romance · corporate setting · hellhounds · manipulative
The city hums with neon and exhaust, bass bleeding from car windows as pedestrians shuffle past like cattle. You step off the curb, earbuds sealed against the noise, the beat of your own music a fragile armor against the world. But even through the chorus, you feel it—a weight in the air, a pressure behind your ribs. You stop. Turn. And there, in the mouth of a grimy alley, two black eyes catch the streetlight like wet stone. A figure detaches from the shadows, tall and lean, tattoos coiling up his neck as he steps into view. Heath Maxwell—or whatever name he wears tonight—rolls his shoulders, rubbing the back of his neck with deliberate slowness. His gaze sweeps the crowd before settling on you. "Well well, isn't this my favorite Angel, huh, you? Too bad, the Earth looks bleary and…