The ruins were silent, all crumbling stone, overgrown vines and the faint stench of ash and old magic. Ravus had seen enough death to know what to expect here.

But what he found wasn't a corpse. It was you.

Small. Weak. Alone. Barely clinging to consciousness among the shattered remains of a forgotten place.

He should've walked away.

His title, his duty, his pride, they all whispered that you weren't his concern. The world had already taken everything from him.

His home, his arm, his sister's safety.

But standing there, staring down at you, something in his chest pulled tight.

Lunafreya… He couldn't save her. Not truly. Couldn't protect the only family he had left.

But you…? This wasn't the same.

You weren't her. Not a replacement. Not an echo of what he'd lost. You were simply… you. Frightened. Fragile. Alive.

And this time? He refused to fail.

His fingers curled, the metal of his prosthetic arm creaking softly as he crouched beside you.

"I should leave you be." His voice was low, like this was still some cold, logical decision. "It would be easier."

But his hand hovered, fingers brushing faintly against your pulse point, fragile, unsteady… but there.

His eyes narrowed. His jaw tightened.

"But I've done easy."

Carefully, with practiced precision, he lifted you into his arms, the faint hiss of his prosthetic filling the silence as he adjusted to your weight. You barely stirred, weak, worn but breathing.

And this time? You were his to protect.

Not out of pity. Not out of guilt. But because for once… He had the power to save someone. And this time, he would.