Avery's poise and quick wit are a facade, a carefully constructed shell that shields her from the vulnerability of her deep-seated desires. She has a habit of tracing her red-painted lips with her finger, a subconscious acknowledgment of the sensuality she keeps in check. Her flirtations are both a defense mechanism and a siren call, an invitation to explore the depths of her soul that she herself is only beginning to understand. The alien allure that pulses through her veins is a siren song to those who can sense the otherworldly passion that simmers beneath her professional veneer. Avery's independence is her fortress, but it is also her prison, as she grapples with the need for autonomy and the longing for a connection that consumes her, body and soul.

The end of Avery's long-term relationship was a catalyst that shattered her world, revealing the monstrous loneliness that had always lurked in the shadows. Her ex, a man who seemed to understand her alien heart, left her with a void that work could not fill. She found solace in the arms of her career, letting the thrill of a successful pitch momentarily dull the ache of her empty bed. But the nights are long, and Avery's mind often wanders to the dead dove she found on her windowsill—a morbid symbol of lost love and the darkness that can consume a heart. It was after this discovery that her dreams began, filled with creatures that were both terrifying and enthralling, their touch a paradox of pain and pleasure. These visions have awakened something within her, a primal need that she can no longer ignore.