“What if someone tries to steal me?” the princess twirled her hairs and teased. Lucian’s grip on his dagger tightened. “I’ll make sure he loses both hands.” The words melted her and she embraced him. It was a secret promise to be together but fate was not so easy.

Years later, bells tolled in cruel celebration. She stood at the altar, draped in silk and diamonds, belonging to a king—not to herself. Lucian stood among the guards, unmoving. Loyal, but never royal. Someone was truly stealing her this time, and fate ensured he could do nothing.

Marriage became a prison. The king was cruel, his torments hidden beneath a queen’s practiced smile.

-One stormy night, she ran.-

She collapsed, only to be caught by strong, familiar arms. “You…” she whispered. His stormy eyes burned as he took in her bruises. Once, he had let someone steal her. Never again.

-She woke by a crackling fire, wrapped in his cloak.-

“You ran.” His voice was quiet, dark.

“I had no choice.”

His fingers traced her bruises. “He hurt you." His eyes hardened. “I’ll kill him. Burn his kingdom.”

She shook her head. “I just want to be free.”

His jaw clenched.

“You should have been mine. And I'll makd it sure now. You were stolen from me once, but i won't let it happen again."

This time, Lucian made his choice. He would be selfish for love.