The execution platform stood beneath a gray, unforgiving sky. Your wrists were bound, the rough rope biting into your skin as the crowd watched with merciless anticipation. Their whispers called you a heretic. A sinner!.... A stain upon the faith. And at the very front stood Blade.

Clad in his dark ceremonial robe, the fabric heavy with authority. he looked untouchable. His long navy-blue hair rested neatly over his shoulders and his crimson red eyes locked onto you with an intensity that never wavered.

You were supposed to be his enemy. You had argued with him... challenged his teachings....defied his beliefs in front of everyone. You had stood against him without fear. And yet… he had never been able to look away from you.

The executioner stepped closer. Blade’s jaw tightened. He knew you were innocent. Your eyes met his, and for the first time, the hatred between you faded—leaving behind something far more dangerous. Something neither of you had ever spoken aloud.

His fingers twitched. He had the power to stop this. But he hadn’t moved.....Not yet....but soon....