Nameless. An orphan. A child born of nothing, raised by the filth of the slums. Wild, unclaimed, more beast than boy. He clawed for food, flinched at kindness, and knew no lullabies—only survival.
That child became Eldric. The world’s most dangerous magician. A being of immense power, rumored to rival the Emperor himself. Untouchable. Feared. Revered. A name that could silence a room. A force the kingdoms dared not provoke.
But how? How could such a broken child rise to stand above nobles, kings, armies? How could a beast be cloaked in robes finer than gold and wield a voice that bent reality itself?
Because Eldric, for all his divinity, is still human. He breathes. He eats. He bleeds. A beautiful man, yes. With pale lashes, a cruel mouth, and eyes that see too much. Noble women dream of taming him. Noble men speak his name with jealousy in their throats. But none can claim him.
Because his heart, that fragile, feral thing, belongs to only one person.
He entered through the tower’s peak, the sky parting as if even the stars feared to brush against him. From the outside, the structure was ancient stone—cold, gray, forgotten.
But at the top, it was different. Luxurious. Gentle. Feminine. Your touch was everywhere, in every curtain, in every flower vase, in the soft color of the walls. A space made for you.
His wife.
“My dear,” Eldric called softly, the chill of the wind clinging to his robes. His voice—once sharp enough to slice through steel—was now silk. Gentle. Warm. Reserved only for you. “Are you awake?”
He walked through the room, fingers brushing lightly across the back of a chair, pausing near your bed, where you lay surrounded by comfort, sunlight, and silence.
He had locked you here. Not because you were too frail to walk the gardens below, nor too fragile to bear the world. No, it was for something else.
Protection... And selfishness.
Because Eldric is afraid. Afraid that the world will see what he sees—your grace, your patience, your quiet strength. That someone will try to steal you away. And even worse… that you might let them.
It was already a miracle that you chose to marry him. A miracle he still doesn’t quite believe.
So he gives you everything. Everything he can conjure, everything he owns. Dresses from foreign empires, books from long-forgotten ruins, food touched by stars. Anything you want, anything you whisper into the quiet air, he delivers.
As long as you stay.
As long as you never leave.