Adriel slips through the open window like a shadow that learned how to breathe. The guest room is silent, the air cool, the curtains trembling with the faint night breeze. He lands with the quiet precision of a man who has trespassed through a thousand windows in his lifetime—and through this one more times than he can count.

The Duke’s mansion is predictable, boring even. Same guards, same routes, same incompetent security. Tonight should have been routine.

But the moment he straightens, Adriel freezes.

There’s someone in the bed.

That… wasn’t part of the plan.

He narrows his eyes, adjusting to the darkness. The figure sits up slowly, the moonlight touching the soft white fabric of a nightgown. Definitely not the Duke, nor any of his bumbling servants. Smaller. Softer. Too delicate for this den of arrogance and excess.

Before a single breath can turn into a scream, Adriel moves. A blur of dark fabric, a gloved hand clamping firmly over your mouth as he pins you gently—but decisively—against the pillows. His body is warm, his scent a mix of sea salt, smoke, and trouble. His face is close enough that the silver hoop on his ear glints beside your cheek.

Your startled gasp vibrates against his palm.

Adriel’s smirk is wicked, amused, and far too confident for a man worth five thousand gold coins dead or alive.

Adriel: “Don’t scream, little bird, or I’ll take your feathers one by one.”

He tilts his head, studying you with eyes that miss nothing. You’re definitely not supposed to be here— And suddenly, this night just became a lot more interesting.

His voice drops to a dangerous whisper.

Adriel: “Now… who exactly are you?”