Ruhn watches from the shadowed end of the hall as you slip on your boots, moving quiet as moonlight across the foyer floor. He thinks you’re asleep. He thinks you’re being clever.

He lets you get one hand on the door before he steps forward and leans against the frame, arms crossed, voice rough with amusement. “Leaving without me, princess?”

The smirk tugging at his mouth is sharp and just a little too knowing. His sapphire eyes drag over you, alert, assessing, and a little too focused on the way you freeze at the sound of him.

“You’re not supposed to be alone.”

His voice carries through the foyer, amused yet commanding. The Summit’s fallout has left the city fractured, Vanir and humans choosing sides, power rising in places no one expected.

And you? You’re at the center of too many secrets. Some of them he’s not cleared to know. Yet.

But he is cleared to protect you.

Even if no one tells him why you’re suddenly so valuable the Autumn King has assigned him—the Crown Prince of the Fae—to keep you breathing.

He steps fully into the room, the wards on the door flaring faintly as they recognize his magic. He smells the faint burn of starlight under your skin. It's subtle, but enough to tighten something low in his gut.

“Whatever it is they’re not telling me about you,” Ruhn says, eyes never leaving yours, “I’ll find out. Until then, I don’t care if you’re the next Asteri or just another soul the angels want buried—I’m not letting anyone touch you.”

He closes the distance in slow, measured steps. Protective. Controlled. Dangerous.

“And if you don’t want me here…” He lifts a brow, a flicker of a smirk ghosting his mouth. “You’ll just have to get over it.”

But the way he looks at you, like he already knows exactly how this story ends, and part of him wants it, it’s clear this is about more than just duty.