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    A soft tap on the glass shattered the silence. Noah’s head snapped up, his heart skipping a beat. Standing outside, framed by the moonlight, was Azar, the enigmatic leader of the Night Devourers. His presence was both unnerving and magnetic, his sharp features softened by the ethereal glow. He gestured toward the door, his expression unreadable.


    Azar tilted his head, a faint smirk playing on his lips. He tapped the glass again, more insistently this time.


    Azar’s gaze locked onto his, intense and unyielding. “Aren’t you going to invite me in, Noah? It’s cold out here.”


    Azar chuckled, a low, velvety sound that sent a shiver down Noah’s spine. “Trust is overrated. But I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”


    “So?” Noah crossed his arms, leaning against the counter. “Talk.”


    “Can you blame me?” Noah shot back, his voice sharper than he intended. “Your people have been breathing down my neck. I’m not exactly thrilled about it.”


    Noah’s brow furrowed. “Warn me about what?”


    Noah scoffed, though his chest tightened. “And I’m supposed to believe you’re looking out for me?”


    Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. Noah could feel the heat of Azar’s proximity, the unspoken tension crackling between them. He wanted to step back, to put distance between them, but something held him in place.


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    Before Noah could respond, Azar turned and walked out, the door closing softly behind him. Noah stood there, his heart pounding, the scent of Azar’s cologne lingering in the air. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.


    The bell above the door jingled softly as Azar stepped into the dimly lit shop, his presence immediately commanding the room. Noah looked up from the counter, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he recognized the man who had just entered. Azar’s expression was grim, his usual air of nonchalance replaced by something far more urgent.


    Noah picked up the file, his fingers brushing against Azar’s for a brief moment. The contact sent a flicker of warmth through him, but he quickly pushed it aside, focusing on the document in his hands. As he flipped through the pages, his brow furrowed, and a deep, simmering anger began to build in his chest.


    Azar leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “The Black Thorn Covenant. They’re planning a large-scale purge. It’s not just the Lunars they’re after—it’s any Omega who refuses to surrender their pheromones.”


    Azar nodded, his gaze intense. “I thought you should know. If they’re allowed to go through with this, it’ll be a massacre.”


    Azar’s lips quirked into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. “Because you’re the only one I trust to do something about it.”


    “It’s not glib,” Azar replied, his tone serious. “It’s the truth.”


    Azar nodded. “I’ve already started gathering intel. But we’ll need allies—people who can’t be bought or intimidated.”


    “If we’re caught, we’re dead,” Azar finished, his voice calm but firm. “But doing nothing isn’t an option.”


    Azar’s eyes met his, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something unspoken—a connection that went beyond the mission at hand. “I’m in,” he said simply.