Shadows Of Blood - The Shadow Series #1

PROLOGUE

The moon hung high and ominous in the ink-black sky, casting an eerie glow over the sprawling mansion that loomed like a dark sentinel against the night.

Inside, laughter and clinking glasses echoed through the opulent halls, blissfully unaware of the storm about to descend upon them.

Cloaked in shadows, a figure navigated the luxurious corridors with a predator's grace, her heart beating in time with the thrill of the hunt.

Every step was deliberate, each breath controlled; she was a force of nature, trained for this moment—to silence a target that had eluded justice for far too long.

With her sights set on the prize, she prepared to weave through the glamour and pretense, where danger and deception lay thick in the air.

Tonight, her skills would be put to the ultimate test, as she plunged deeper into the heart of the mansion, a place where secrets lingered and the stakes were life and death.

The air inside the mansion was a cocktail of expensive cologne and the sweet scent of decadence, swirling together in a chaotic waltz.

She passed a room where crystal chandeliers sparkled like stars, illuminating the laughter of the elite and the soft strains of a string quartet.

The revelers were dressed in their finest, ignorant to the thrill of danger lurking just beyond the heavy velvet drapes.

The assassin paused for a moment, her figure blending into the shadows like a wraith, analyzing the scene before her—fifty pairs of eyes, each one oblivious, dancing to their own melody while fate awaited its cue.

She caught sight of her target across the room, a man of imposing stature with a smirk that could charm anyone; he was a wolf among sheep.

His purported charisma masked a treacherous character, a reputation built on betrayal and blood. Tonight, he flaunted his fortune, flanked by admirers who likely had no idea they were basking in the presence of a monster.

She tightened her grip on the cold steel of her weapon, the sense of urgency gnawing at her like a hungry beast. Every second she delayed was a second of freedom for him—she could almost taste the bitter tang of justice as she reminded herself that tonight, that was the only flavor she craved.

Slipping further into the crowd, she became part of the extravagant tapestry of the party, exchanging polite nods and false smiles. Deep within her, a flicker of doubt whispered; these were not merely guests but potential obstacles.

Wild, unpredictable stakes danced behind their polished exteriors. She maneuvered deftly, using the gathered laughter to mask her passage, her instincts sharp, poised to react at the slightest sign of recognition.

As she approached, the laughter faded momentarily, her focus narrowing on her quarry.

He raised his glass for a toast, and she felt the gravitational pull of his charm start to ensnare her, but she steered her mind back. This was not a game; it was a reckoning.

The assassin could almost hear the ticking of the clock, each second echoing in her ears, underscoring the urgency that propelled her forward. She slipped behind a massive column, just as he turned his gaze towards the soirée.