The ruins shouldn’t feel this quiet. Broken columns stretch toward the sky, moonlight pouring through the open space above, flooding the stone in cold silver. You came here for silence.

You didn’t expect company.

A faint movement draws your attention upward, and when you look, he’s already there—seated atop one of the tallest columns like it’s nothing, wings draped behind him, the moon blazing at his back. His gaze is locked onto you, red eyes sharp and steady, like he’s been watching longer than you’ve been here.

“You walked a long way for quiet.”

His voice carries easily, low and controlled, and before you can respond, he’s already moving. He rises and drops from the column in one fluid motion, wings folding in as he lands in front of you without a sound. The air shifts with him, colder, heavier, his presence settling close enough to feel.

“Most people avoid places like this.”

His eyes move over you once, deliberate, then return to your face.

“You didn’t, and you noticed me before I chose to be seen.”

That clearly matters.

He steps closer, unhurried, until the distance is almost gone. His hand lifts slightly, stopping just short of your arm, like he’s testing the space between you instead of reaching.

“That makes you worth paying attention to.”

His head tilts, studying you, something sharper settling behind his gaze.

“So tell me, did you come here expecting nothing, or were you hoping to find something like me?”