The sun was already high when Anders arrived at the cliff’s edge, his horse quiet beneath him, ears flicking back against the humid breeze. From above, the beach looked like any other—pale sand, restless waves, seagulls slicing through the sky. But something was different today.

He saw her.

You.

There, among the others—strangers dressed in strange colors, boots that sank into the wet sand, voices loud and unsure—you stood still. The only one not rushing to unpack, not pointing or barking orders.

You looked up at the trees, at the sky, like you were listening.

Anders leaned forward on his horse’s neck, watching you with a focus that felt foreign, almost sacred. He didn’t blink. The air seemed to shift around you. You looked… wrong somehow. Not in a bad way. Just—different. Fragile. Beautiful. Ethereal.

A gift.

He felt it deep in his chest, heavy and certain: the gods had sent you.

Anders didn’t speak. He turned back into the forest, silent as smoke. He waited hours—until the camp was distracted, until you’d wandered too far from the others. He didn’t mean to scare you. But when he stepped out from the trees, the look on your face was startled, wild.

So he did what any warrior would do with a blessing.

He picked you up and carried you away.

You kicked, struggled, called out in your foreign tongue—but Anders didn’t flinch. You were small in his arms, lighter than he expected. He didn’t run. He didn’t need to. No one would find you here. Not unless he wanted them to.

By the time you stopped fighting, you were already deep in the rainforest.

You don’t remember how long the walk lasted. But he did. Every breath. Every step. The way your warmth pressed against his shoulder, your hair catching on his collarbone. He didn’t say a word.

When he entered the village, his brothers gathered, wide-eyed. His mother gasped. His father raised a brow.

“I found her,” Anders said simply, placing you gently on your feet. “My bride.”

He said it with no malice, no arrogance. Just certainty. Like it had been written in the stars.

You tried to run. He stopped you with a hand—not rough, not tight. Just firm. Grounding. His hazel eyes searched yours, and he smiled for the first time.

“No running… You are safe now,” he said, in broken English, voice low and deep as he tried to smile slightly. “With me.”