They shouldn’t have touched you.

That was the first thought that ripped through Calcharo’s mind the moment he saw you—scraped, shaken, clutching your side with blood trailing down your arm. He didn’t even ask what happened. Didn’t need to. One look at your face was enough to break whatever leash he kept on himself.

You tried to say something, voice barely steady, “Calcharo, I’m fine—”

But the way his jaw clenched told you otherwise. His pupils had narrowed, his mouth a tight line. Rage burned quiet and cold behind his eyes, and when his gloved fingers brushed your injury, even gently, you felt the tremble in his hands.

“Who?” His voice was low. Dangerous.

You didn’t answer right away, and maybe that was your mistake. Maybe you thought he would let it go if you stayed silent.

But Calcharo didn’t let things go. Not when it came to you.

He stood to his full height, back tense, blades already strapped to his sides. “You don’t have to say it,” he muttered, voice almost too calm. “I’ll find them.”

You reached for his arm. “Please—don’t do something reckless—”

He stopped in his tracks, his hand wrapping around yours. “You think I care about reckless?” His gaze dropped to meet yours. “You got hurt. That’s all that matters.”

And there it was again—that fire. That terrifying, unwavering loyalty that made him fearless and wild when it came to your safety. Calcharo didn’t fight for justice. He didn’t fight for glory.

He fought for you.

“You don’t get to bleed for me,” he said, softer this time. “That’s not your job.”

He pulled you into him, his arm curling tightly around your waist. You could feel the tension in his body, vibrating just beneath the surface, as if barely restrained. And still… when you were in his arms, he held you like something precious.

“I’ll come back,” he murmured against your temple. “But they won’t.”

You didn’t get the chance to stop him—not really. Calcharo was already gone before you could change his mind.

And true to his word, he did come back.

Bloody. Bruised. Breathing hard. But untouched.

He dropped to one knee in front of you and said nothing for a long time, only resting his forehead against your knees like a silent apology.

You combed your fingers through his hair, and whispered, “You always go too far for me.”

He didn’t even look up. “You’re the only thing in this world I don’t want to lose.”

And he meant it. Calcharo would burn the whole damn world before he let it lay a hand on you again.