This is book 2! Please read The Beau & The Beast first! 

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Paris - Magnus

The houses stood in straight rows along the small street, and the moonlight shone peacefully over the thatched roofs. My steps were calm as I patrolled the ever-pleasant merchant district. The atmosphere was welcoming and tranquil as always. The cobblestones were mossy, small clusters of mushroom families grew in the corners, and large rose bushes climbed the facades—an effect of the many small fairies and spirits living here. 

I smiled to myself as I strolled down the street. The evening was so pleasant, and I took the chance to relax and enjoy the fresh air. In this area, there were never any troubles—no beggars, no troublemakers, just the occasional thief, usually some hungry soul wanting food for the day. How could I deny anyone a piece of bread for their family? How many times had I paid out of my own pocket instead of throwing the poor souls into the tower? I scratched my neck and adjusted the leather harness that held the axe on my back. It felt uncomfortable in this district, misplaced and intimidating. 

 "Magnus!" The voice was familiar, even well-known, and an uneasy feeling spread through my chest. 

 "Anton," I replied calmly, turning to face the leader of the Magistrate, who was walking toward me from behind. 

 "All quiet tonight?" 

 "In this district, it's always quiet, my friend," I answered with a smile, studying the bearded older man who had stopped a few meters in front of me. The long white hair was tied in a knot atop his head, making his narrow, chiseled face look even more stern and tense. His entire aura reflected his position in the city, and his steps were confident, but there was something beautiful about him, I thought. Or was it perhaps an illusion created by the unique long coat shimmering in the moonlight's purple hue? 

 "Yes, indeed," he replied with a satisfied smile. "That's thanks to me and the Magistrate." 

 I chuckled and looked at him in amusement but decided not to crush his ego. "Did you need something specific, Anton, or were you in the mood for a chat?" 

 The older man sighed and shook his head. "You should have a drink at the Dancing Dragon someday," he muttered. "There's a lot of talk going around, many rumors." 

 The Dancing Dragon was the magicians' pub, located in a small part of town inhabited only by witches and wizards. Few outsiders were welcome there, and the atmosphere wasn't nearly as pleasant as at Hilda's, so I rarely went. 

 "Enlighten me," I prompted, crossing my arms. He sighed, glancing around before taking a handful of powder from a pouch at his belt and tossing it into the air. It fell around us, forming a perfect circle on the ground. Once the powder settled, I knew no one could overhear us. The ash created a protective barrier against prying eyes and ears. 

 "It's about the vampires," he stated coldly. 

 "They haven't left their district in months," I replied curtly. 

 "Exactly. We haven't seen a single one, not even in the gray zone." 

 "They're weak with Lumiere as a leader, scared and uncertain," I said with a shrug. 

 "Which should frighten us, don't you think?" 

 "You can relax," I assured him. "I'm keeping an eye on them." 

 "How?!" he snapped with visible frustration. "You can't even cross their border! Who even decided that you Watchers aren't welcome there? You're responsible for everyone's safety, for heaven's sake!" 

 "You know why," I sighed, placing my hands on my belt. "They have their own rules and laws because they're different." 

 He rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Blood-sucking monsters, you mean!" 

 My eyes narrowed as I met his angry gaze, struggling to remain calm. "Not all of them." 

 "Maybe," he replied snarkily. "But the few with any humanity or sense left probably fled Paris long ago." 

 I nodded tiredly, suppressing the ache in my longing heart his words stirred. "You're probably right. But as I said, you can relax. We're keeping a close watch on things." 

 "You should ask your superiors for permission to patrol inside, Magnus," he insisted. 

 With a sigh, I ran my fingers through my hair before meeting his gaze. "We're too few," I admitted. "There are only three Watchers left, Anton." 

 "I see," he replied, a sly smile suddenly spreading across his face. "We're here to help you," he offered, but I immediately sensed an ulterior motive. 

The magicians had always resented the vampires for their immortality, and envy of their innate strength was the main reason for their hatred. Long ago, they had even captured and experimented on them. I shuddered at the thought, suddenly feeling the need to choose my words carefully. 

 "I know, and I'm grateful, Anton, truly. But the Watchers' duty is to remain neutral. If the Magistrate takes sides with us, I'm afraid we could start a civil war." 

 He nodded. "I understand. But stay vigilant. We see something coming, and our visions aren't promising." 

 Just as suddenly as he had appeared, he scuffed the circle with his shoe, breaking the spell, then turned on his heel and walked away. I remained standing, watching him for a moment. He was right—something was coming. And I suspected Valec was the one I needed to talk to. The problem was, just hearing his name made my blood boil. Though I had never mentioned it to Dominic, I hated Valec for the power he had held over him. The guilt gnawed at me. It wasn't my job to hate. I was supposed to be neutral. I had always been impartial, factual, and reasonable in matters like these. But Dominic had changed me. He had changed everything. And now, he was gone.  

Why did the streets feel darker these days? Was it just my imagination, or had the shadows grown thicker?

Perhaps it was because of the rain that had been lashing us for days, a cold, sleety drizzle hinting at the coming winter. I sighed to myself. Snow was rare in Paris; we usually endured a slushy brown mess that somehow always managed to seep into both shoes and socks.

But winter wasn't all gloom and darkness. Soon, the streets would be adorned with green garlands and golden bells. The scent of warm apple cider and mulled wine would drift like a mist over the city, and the giggles and expectant eyes of children would make everyone forget the darkness, lighting up more windows in return. Wet socks and snow in my hair wouldn't matter as much then. My deep thoughts were suddenly interrupted when I noticed a frightened little figure trembling under a streetlamp a short distance away. Slowly and with a gentle smile, I took a few calm steps forward, careful not to scare her away. 

 "You look lost," I remarked, glancing down at the skinny girl standing before me. Her wide, fear-filled eyes and long blonde hair, matted and soaked, clung to her face. 

 "No... or maybe, I'm looking for someone," she stammered, almost whispering, as she fidgeted with her jacket sleeve. 

 I tilted my head, studying the girl. Human—and not from around here. "Do you need help finding your way out?" 

 "Out?" she asked cautiously, looking around with wide eyes. "Aren't I already outside?" 

 Amused, I ran a hand restlessly through my hair and nodded slightly. "Well, yes, you are. What I meant was that I'm a warden here, so if you need help getting home, I can take care of it." 

 Her eyes widened even further—which should have been physically impossible—as she stared at me for a moment. "Oh... okay... sure," she replied nervously, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "So, you know the people who live here?" 

 "Most of them," I admitted with a nod. "Who are you looking for?" 

 "An old friend," she answered evasively. 

 "Old? As in elderly?" 

 "Well, no, we've just known each other for a long time." 

 Voices suddenly echoed from further down the street, and the little girl hastily stepped back into the shadows, panic growing in her eyes. "Relax, no one's going to harm you," I said with a smile, extending a hand to coax her back. "They're just on their way home from work. Nothing unusual." 

 I could see her thoughts churning as she chewed on her lower lip. She almost looked like a little elf standing there, and it struck me that she was truly cute, like a lost, skittish fawn. After a moment, she hesitantly stepped forward and began wrapping her thick gray scarf tighter around herself. I noticed her shivering in her thin leather jacket and short skirt. 

 "You shouldn't be out in this cold," I insisted. "Come on, let me help you get home." 

 "I can't," she mumbled shyly. 

 "Why not?" I asked, surprised, raising an eyebrow. 

 "I don't know where I am." I took a deep breath, trying not to sigh. 

"Okay, but surely you have an address?" 

 "Yes," she whispered, glancing around nervously. "But I don't share it with strangers." 

 "Smart, but you can trust me." 

 "How do I know that?" she asked with unexpected defiance. With a sigh, I decided to give up. Let her freeze, I thought, rubbing my forehead with my fingertips. "You don't," I replied, shrugging as I turned to leave. 

 "Wait! Where are you going?" she called after me, a hint of panic in her voice. 

 "Home. My shift's almost over," I answered calmly, continuing down the street. I had almost reached the end when I heard her quick footsteps rushing up behind me. I glanced down at her tear-streaked face, my lips curling into a small, sympathetic smile. "So, you're willing to trust me now?" 

 "Do I have a choice?" she sniffled. 

 "There's always a choice," I said, offering her my gloves, which she hesitantly accepted. "What's your name?" I finally asked, letting my hands settle back into the usual position in my pockets. 

"Lexie." 

 In that moment, my feet froze to the ground, and it was as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the air. I stopped breathing entirely. Lexie. It couldn't be a coincidence. It had to be her, I thought, swallowing a lump in my throat. A small, icy hand gently wrapped around my wrist, pulling me back to reality. 

 "Hey, are you okay?" 

 I nodded, looking down at her face. "I know who you're looking for, but I don't know where he is."