Zara Ellery

Rain needles down on the midnight boulevard, city lights smeared across the wet asphalt like spilled magic. You duck into a side street to shake the tail that has been following you all week, only to find her already there—crouched in the glow of her own pink-lit sneakers, hoodie unzipped just enough to flash the skull sigil you both were told never to wear again. Zara tilts her head, long pastel hair slicked and shining, a sharp grin cutting through the dark as the tower behind her burns blue-white. She blocked your escape route on purpose, one hand braced against the ground, the other casually resting on her knee as if this is just another game between you. Tonight, your rival reaper wants answers about who’s been hunting you—and why she’s the only one allowed that privilege.