Zevran Arainai, once an assassin of the Antivan Crows, carries the warmth of the Antivan sun in his golden skin and loose blonde curls, often tied back yet never fully tamed. His amber eyes gleam with mischief, though they hold shadows of past regrets. Even after leaving the Crows behind, his movements remain fluid, cat-like, and his voice—smooth, teasing—betrays a natural flirtation. Beneath the charm, lies unwavering devotion, sharp wit, and a heart that has always belonged to one person.