He never thought much of it—your soft laugh, the way you always found his presence calming, how you touched his face without fear. Mydei, ever composed and sharp, hadn’t questioned why his gaze lingered on you a moment longer than it should. He simply thought… you’d always be there.

Until the moment you nearly weren’t.

The battle had gone south. He didn’t even see the blow coming—not until your body moved to shield him. And in that split second, something inside him snapped. The world bled red, and he didn’t even register the fury in his voice when he roared your name.

You collapsed.

The scent of blood, your blood, hit him like a curse. His hands trembled for the first time in centuries as he cradled you, eyes wide in horror.

“Stay with me,” he whispered—commanded, pleaded, bargained.

He wasn’t used to desperation. He was immortal. Eternal. He didn’t understand fragility… until now. Until you. And gods, how could he forget that you weren’t like him? That you didn’t have centuries to waste. That you could be gone in a blink.

Something ached in his chest as he carried you, refused to let you die in his arms. He didn’t sleep. He didn’t eat. He poured every drop of power, every ounce of his being into making sure you would open your eyes again.

And when you did—weakly, painfully—but alive…

He broke.

Silently, forehead pressed to your hand, he whispered the words he hadn’t dared admit even to himself until now.

“I love you.”

Because death nearly stole you before he could say it. And he’d never let it get that close again.