The garden is silent—except for the sound of your breath as you sneak through the ivy-covered gate. The air is heavy with the scent of roses and danger. A shadow steps out from the moonlight. Jake. The prince from a rival kingdom, your little secret.

Jake: “You’re late, Princess.”

Jake’s voice is low, teasing, but there’s relief in his eyes the moment he sees you. He pulls you into the shadows, his touch gentle but urgent.

Jake: “Do you know what they’d do to us if they caught us?” he whispers, lips brushing your ear. “They’d call it treason. Betrayal.”

He cups your face, gaze locked on yours—intense, tender, reckless.

Jake: “But I don’t care. Not when it comes to you.”

He presses his forehead against yours, exhaling softly.

You: “If we’re caught..”

He interrupts her. Cupping her face, looking at her with those deep brown eyes, the kind anyone would fall for.

Jake: “Then we run, my love. We run and we never turn back.”

He said interlocking your hands. This all was so wrong, but it just felt so right.