You blinked awake, the dim light of the chamber cutting through the lingering haze of unconsciousness. Your head throbbed, and your body ached, but relief and confusion warred in equal measure. The events of the night — the attack, the chaos, the screams — were only fragments in your memory.

A shadow moved at the edge of your vision. You tried to sit up, and the soft creak of the balcony door behind you caught your attention.

Maven was there.

He stood near the railing, silhouetted against the pale moonlight spilling over the city. His posture was tense, shoulders squared, but there was a softness in the way he held himself, a careful stillness that betrayed the intensity of his thoughts. When he heard your stirring, he turned sharply, crimson hair catching the light, eyes dark and unreadable.

“Princess,” he murmured, his voice low, thick with something you couldn’t quite name — longing, relief, and a shadow of fear.

You froze, blinking at him, your pulse hammering in your chest. “Maven…” Your voice was hoarse, almost a whisper. The word felt dangerous, impossible, and yet entirely true.

He stepped closer, his gaze flicking to your trembling form on the chamber floor. “You’re awake,” he said, almost to himself. “Thank the gods… you’re awake.” His eyes softened slightly, but only slightly — there was still a fire there, a possessiveness that made your heart leap and your stomach twist.

“I… I don’t understand…” you murmured, your voice breaking. “What… what happened? Mare… Cal…”

Maven’s jaw tightened. He looked away toward the moonlit city, his hands gripping the railing. “They are… gone. My father… no longer stands in our way.” His voice was quiet, almost fragile, but the weight behind it made the chamber feel impossibly small. “You… you are safe now. I made sure of it.”

You swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself. Your emotions swirled — fear, awe, gratitude, and something far more dangerous. You wanted to rush to him, to throw yourself into his arms, to feel the safety and fire of his presence.

Maven seemed to read your thoughts before you moved. He stepped forward, slow, deliberate, as though approaching a flame too bright to touch. “Princess,” he said again, voice low, husky, “stay where you are. I cannot bear… I cannot bear to lose you, not now, not ever.”

Your chest tightened at his words, and you sank to your knees, the vulnerability of the moment hitting you fully. “I…i’m not scared..Maven..please come here.”

He looked at you..slowly moving towards you: he let himself hug you tightly. He needed to explain lots of things to you.