The sun never fully reached the alleys of East Graven.
It tried—thin rays slipping between crooked buildings and flickering neon—but the light died before it touched the ground. Shadows clung to everything here. Trash bins, steel doors, cracked pavement. Places like this made the city feel like it had secrets buried in its bones.
Jace had no idea why he came.
Something Carmen said stuck with him:
"You're not the only one who felt you flare up last night."
That meant more of them were out there. Watching. Maybe even circling.
And he couldn't just sit at home waiting to get jumped—or worse, seduced to death.
So he came here. Back to where it all started. Near the alley where Lira kissed him. Where it began.
He was searching. He just didn't know for what.
The first thing he noticed wasn't the woman.
It was the smell.
Sweet. Sharp. A whisper of cinnamon, oranges, something primal underneath.
Then she stepped into view.
Not from around the corner—from the shadows. Like they moved to let her out. Like she belonged to them.
She was tall. Lean. Dressed in dark jeans and a torn crop hoodie. Her hair was shaved on one side, long on the other, dyed in streaks of storm-gray and cobalt blue. A line of black ink curved under her eye—an old warding mark, if Jace had to guess. He didn't recognize the symbol, but it buzzed.
She saw him before he could speak. Eyes narrowing. Body tensing.
Jace held up his hands, palms open. "I'm not looking for trouble."
She laughed. Short. Cold. "Then you shouldn't have lit the sky on fire with that sloppy-ass awakening."
He blinked. "You saw that?"
"Everyone saw that."
She stalked toward him, boots crunching glass. "You flared like a bonfire. Untrained. Unshielded. Leaking energy like a busted pipe."
"Okay," he said carefully. "So… you're here to help?"
She grinned.
It was not a nice grin.
"I'm here to see what you taste like."
Before he could respond, she moved.
No warning. No hesitation. One second she was ten feet away, and the next she was in his face, grabbing the front of his shirt and slamming him against the brick wall hard enough to rattle his teeth.
He tried to throw her off, but his body didn't respond fast enough. She was faster. Stronger. Her body pressed into his, knee between his legs, hand gripping the side of his neck—not choking. Feeling.
Then her eyes flashed gold.
And his chest lit up.
The mark flared to life, burning against her touch, and energy flooded him—raw, chaotic, wild. But she wasn't taking it.
She was feeding him.
Jace's breath hitched. It felt like a high, like adrenaline laced with pleasure. Her energy wasn't soft like Lira's kiss or seductive like Carmen's touch. It was aggressive, unfiltered, dominant.
It was dangerous.
She pulled back slightly, still holding him by the shirt.
"You've got no filters," she said, eyes flicking down to the glowing mark. "No shields. You're wide open. You're going to attract every spirit-feeder and energy junkie in the city."
"Spirit-feeder?" he rasped.
She let go. He slumped forward, dizzy, skin buzzing like a live wire.
"Cultivators like me," she said. "We don't build power from scratch. We take it. From fights, from sex, from pain—whatever fuels our path. Me?" She cracked her neck. "I'm on the Predator Path. I feed through dominance."
He stared at her. "What does that even mean?"
"It means if I wanted, I could pin you down right now and drain you until your soul begged for mercy—and you'd thank me for it."
She said it like a fact. Not a threat. Not a boast.
Just… reality.
Jace's chest was still glowing.
She looked at the mark again and tilted her head.
"You're bonded."
"Bonded to what?"
"To desire," she said. "It's one of the oldest paths. Messy. Addictive. Dangerous."
He frowned. "I didn't choose it."
She shrugged. "It chose you. That's how it works. The core awakens based on your soul. It finds your truth. And your truth?" She stepped in close again, slower this time. "You're starving too."
Jace didn't deny it.
She smelled like violence and temptation. And he could feel his body responding to her even now, after the hit. Not lust, exactly. Hunger. That same ache he felt with Carmen and Lena—but more primal.
"What's your name?" he asked, breath unsteady.
"Reya."
He nodded slowly. "Are you gonna kill me, Reya?"
She laughed again—deeper this time. "No. Not yet. You've got potential. And I don't waste good prey."
She turned on her heel and started walking away.
Jace's mark still pulsed with heat.
"Wait," he called. "That's it? You rough me up and leave?"
She glanced back. "Carmen's probably got dibs on training you. But she won't teach you how to defend yourself from people like me."
He narrowed his eyes. "So teach me."
Reya stopped.
Then she turned around fully, expression unreadable.
"You want to learn?" she asked. "To fight? To resist? To take what you want before it's taken from you?"
He nodded.
"Then come find me," she said. "There's a fight pit under the Crossline Bridge. Midnight tomorrow. No rules. No second chances."
"And if I lose?"
"You die."
She smiled like she hoped he'd show up.
Then she vanished into the shadows—again, like they opened just for her.
Jace leaned against the wall, chest still glowing, breath unsteady.
This world wasn't just seductive.
It was violent. Hungry. Alive.
And now, it was watching him