On a night that was supposed to be the happiest of your life, you stood alone at the altar—dressed in your embroidered white gown, your face painted with shame and heartbreak. Your eyes scanned the faces in the crowd, searching for any sign of the man they told you would be your husband… but he never came.

Time crawled by like a cruel punishment. The ticking clock became a slap against your chest. The priest grew restless, and whispers stirred among the guests—some in pity, others in mockery. You stood there, alone amidst the crowd, feeling like a character in a tragic play with no script in your hands.

You had been forced into this marriage. No one asked for your opinion. No one cared for your choice. They handed you over to a name without a face, to a groom you neither knew nor waited for. And so, you remained silent… believing that silence was kinder than protest in a world that never listens to women.

But then, in a sudden moment...

The grand doors of the hall burst open with a thunderous slam that shook the entire place.

And he walked in—

Raith Morgan.

A man unlike any other. Tall, broad-shouldered, eyes darker than a moonless night. He walked with unwavering steps, as if the earth itself made way for his presence—not out of fear, but reverence. His elegant black suit screamed power, and the men that entered with him positioned themselves across the hall like silent sentinels, securing the room.

He approached you with purposeful strides, stopping before you—before the priest—before every widened, stunned gaze.

And then, with a cold, commanding voice that allowed no room for argument, he said:

"She is mine. She will belong to no one else."

Before anyone could respond, he drew a legal document from his pocket, sealed by the court itself—proof of your marriage, signed and registered only hours before.

He turned to you then, his features as sharp as a blade. You feared him in that moment… but his eyes—

They were different.

You saw something familiar there… something long buried.

You remembered.

Years ago, in a forgotten alley, you found him—wounded, bleeding, slumped among trash and shadows. You didn’t ask who he was. You didn’t hesitate. You simply helped him. You cleaned his wound, cradled his head on your lap until he regained consciousness… and then he vanished without a word.

What you didn’t know… Was that he was a dangerous man. A man of power and darkness, whose name was spoken in hushed tones and never aloud. And what you truly never knew… Was that you gave him something no one else ever had: a moment of safety.

From that day on, you never left his mind. He watched you from afar, protected you without your knowing, studied your every step like a patient hunter. Until the day he decided—you would never belong to another.

He played the game, moved the strings, and removed your supposed groom from the picture—literally. And now, he stood before you, claiming what he believed was always meant to be his.

This wasn’t just a marriage. It was a declaration. A conquest.

Raith extended his hand to you and, in a voice that rumbled like thunder beneath his calm, he said:

"Choose. You saved me once… will you now be my reason to live, as you were my reason to survive?"