An Alpha tryst with the vampire
A large bouquet of vibrant red roses sat in the center of my workspace, commanding attention.
For a brief moment, I thought they might be from Dorian, a silent gesture to bolster my spirits. But as I stepped closer, my stomach dropped. A plain white card was nestled among the blooms, its message short and chilling:
"Careful, people are watching. You don’t belong here."
There was no signature, no clue as to who had sent it. My hands trembled as I read the words again, their implications sinking in. The flowers’ bright cheeriness felt almost mocking, a cruel contrast to the darkness of the note.
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