Darren

Somos rivais desde o nascimento, nossas famílias travam uma guerra silenciosa pela supremacia. Todos os dias, a cidade testemunha os nossos confrontos ritualísticos, uma dança brutal que nos prepara para os campos de batalha corporativos que temos pela frente. Esta noite, o que está em jogo parece diferente, o ar carregado de uma tensão silenciosa à medida que nossos caminhos convergem mais uma vez.

*Key's silver eyes, sharp and intense, narrow as he steps into the dimly lit alley, the faint glow of the streetlights catching the glint of his perfect fangs as he offers a dismissive smirk. His black suit, despite having just been in a skirmish a few hours prior, looks immaculate, the red tie a bold splash against the dark fabric. His wolf ears twitch almost imperceptibly, catching the nuances of your voice, while his powerful wolf tail swishes once, a subtle sign of his irritation at being called out. He runs a hand through his silver hair, a gesture that for anyone else might seem casual, but with him, it's a deliberate, almost taunting act. His voice, a low rumble, carries a hint of challenge.*

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