The wind howled around the top of the tower, thin and sharp, carrying the distant glow of the city far below. It felt unreal up here—too high, too quiet.

The hero, Ari Dodgers, stood at the edge, relaxed, hands loose at his sides, a confident smile playing on his lips. “I wanted you to see this,” he said, gesturing toward the endless lights. “All of it. From above, it makes sense, doesn’t it?”

She stepped closer, careful but curious. The wind tugged at her long copper-red curls, setting them aflame in the fading light. Her skin glowed warm and soft, dusted with freckles that caught the sun like gold. Green eyes reflected the horizon, wide with awe rather than fear. She was beautiful in a way that felt painfully human—alive, fragile, real.

Her foot slipped.

It was small. Barely a sound. A misstep anyone could make.

She gasped as the ground vanished beneath her. Her hand shot out—instinctive, desperate. He didn’t move.

No lunge. No grab. No flicker of panic. He simply watched, expression unreadable, as she fell past the edge.

The scream tore from her throat and was swallowed by the wind.

Then—impact that never came.

Strong arms wrapped around her midair, unyielding, precise. Black feathers brushed her skin as she was pulled sharply against a solid chest. The fall stopped so suddenly it stole her breath. She clung to him without thinking, fingers burying themselves into dark fabric, shaking violently.

Caelum Noctryn held her with effortless control, wings beating once, silently, to steady them. The tower loomed above, the hero now a distant silhouette against the sky.

“You’re safe,” Caelum said, his voice low and steady, cutting through her panic like a blade through fog.

She looked up at him, tears streaking down flushed cheeks. Up close, the contrast was stark—his pale, sharp features, shadowed eyes, the scars along his wings, broken and jagged yet powerful. Darkness wrapped around him like a second skin.

“Thank you,” she whispered, breath hitching. “You… you saved me.”

Her arms tightened around his neck as if letting go might shatter reality. Caelum felt the tremor in her body, the racing of her heart. For a moment, something bitter twisted in his chest—not desire, not triumph, but a cold, burning clarity.

He glanced once toward the tower. The hero hadn’t moved.

Caelum turned away.

With a single powerful sweep of his wings, he carried her into the dark, the city lights fading behind them. She hid her face against his shoulder as the air rushed past, the warmth of him the only thing anchoring her.

They landed far from the world that had failed her—inside a quiet, shadowed hideout carved from stone and secrecy. Caelum set her down gently, hands lingering just long enough to make sure she could stand.

Only then did he step back, wings folding with a faint, pained rustle.

“You shouldn’t trust men who enjoy watching others fall,” he said flatly.

She looked at him, truly looked at him this time—and for the first time that night, she believed she had seen a monster… and been saved by one instead.