Anya, born into a prestigious lineage, discovers her supernatural abilities and encounters mystical incidents as she reaches the age of 18. Drawn into the concealed ancient history of her family, she realizes it's her moment to ascend as the heiress...
In the serene ambiance of the café, there was a sense of freedom that resonated deeply with me. The soft glow of dim lights draped the space, setting the perfect mood for indulging in my book while perched on a high stool near the counter. As I caught myself in a moment of refined demeanor, a reminder of my upbringing in a prestigious family flashed through my mind. With a lineage partly steeped in royalty, it wasn't uncommon for me to exude such grace. However, this regal heritage came with a caveat – secrecy. Concealing my lineage was paramount, even from my closest confidante, lest I face dire consequences.
My reverie was abruptly shattered by the entrance of a group of girls adorned in flashy, glamorous attire, an odd sight for a quaint café setting. Intrigued, I set aside my novel, leaning forward to observe a dimly lit corridor adorned with potted plants, revealing an elegant extension of the café. Two impeccably dressed men stood sentinel by a mysterious black door, behind which neon hues danced enticingly. As the distant thump of a bass drum reverberated through the air, a wave of curiosity swept over me.
Stepping down from the stool, I nestled my book into my sleek black leather Gucci bag and embarked on a determined stride toward the enigmatic door. With each step, the rhythmic throb of bass transformed into a melodic symphony, growing louder with every passing moment. Just as I neared the door, the two suited men intercepted my path, their stern gazes halting me in confusion.
"Apologies, miss, but entry is not permitted," the man on the right stated firmly, his gaze assessing me from head to toe.
"Pardon me?" I inquired, still perplexed by their assertion.
"The attire you're adorned in isn't suited for what lies beyond this door, miss," the man on the left remarked with a hint of amusement, his eyes lingering on me with a faint smirk.
Stepping back, I took a moment to reassess the situation. It dawned on me that I was on the verge of entering a club, a realization that prompted a brief internal deliberation. At home, my evenings were typically consumed by rigorous history lessons and etiquette classes, leaving little room for impromptu excursions. Moreover, my current attire felt sorely out of place for the venue. It was clear; I needed a wardrobe change, and fast. Spotting the restroom at the end of the hallway, I seized the opportunity to rectify my fashion faux pas, thankful for its emptiness.
After a deep breath and a pep talk with myself in the mirror, I steeled my resolve. "Anya, this is a one-time deal. No second chances. Let's do this!" With a swift motion, I rolled up the sleeves of my right arm, a surge of energy coursing through me as I executed a familiar ritual. As the sensation of warmth and a faint burning enveloped my arm, a stunning celestial tattoo materialized, its radiant glow illuminating the mirror. Gazing back at my reflection, I beheld a transformation: fiery red hair framing eyes with one pupil resembling a bright golden star and the other a golden moon, their luminosity akin to that of a feline's gaze.
