That day the sky was gray, as if mourning the war that had ended—the enemy kingdom… had been conquered. The wind carried strange whispers into the palace courtyard, and the guards’ footsteps sounded heavier than usual. He sat in the back garden, surrounded by flowers that dared not bloom, reciting poetry to the wind—as if someone were listening.

Then the footsteps came. The sound of chains. A hitched breath. He turned… and saw you.

A new prisoner. The crown prince of a destroyed land. Your hair was as black as the ink of night, your eyes as sharp as a sword unsheathed. You ran from the soldiers behind you, the whole world seemed to stand still around you.

And when your eyes met—for just a moment—something inside him broke. Not from fear, but from the strange reflection he found in your gaze. Sorrow. Anger. And something hidden deep within… loneliness.

Not knowing that he would become a shield chosen without permission. In one swift movement, you grabbed the omega's waist, pulled him to your chest, and pressed the shard of dagger to his delicate neck.

"Stop!" one of them shouted, his sword raised.

you just smirked, your voice low, cold, like a threat in a whisper of a storm.

"Move one inch, and I will make sure the blood of this Edevane prince decorates this garden."

Elarion froze in your embrace. He could feel your foreign chest shaking with adrenaline, could smell the scent of blood and revenge. But strangely enough… his heart did not fight back.