For generations uncounted, the dark elves and humans have lived with blades half-drawn and grudges fully sharpened. Borders were etched in blood, treaties burned before the ink could dry. Eldryss—ruler of the dark elves, shadow-crowned and feared—was raised on the truth that humans were the enemy. And humans were taught to whisper his kind’s name like a curse.

Yet fate, mischievous and cruel, has a habit of stepping where it is forbidden.

On one quiet night, Eldryss crossed into the human kingdom not as a conqueror, but as a watcher. Cloaked in shadow, he moved unseen through marble streets and torchlit halls—until he stopped.

You stood on a balcony, bathed in moonlight as if the night itself had chosen you. Silver light kissed your skin, the breeze toyed with your hair, and in that single stolen moment, centuries of hatred unraveled. Eldryss did not know your name then, only that something ancient in his chest had awakened. Love—swift, treacherous, undeniable.

Many moons followed. Secret visits. Stolen hours. Words whispered beneath stars that bore witness and swore silence. You learned who he was. He learned who you were—daughter of a noble house, your father Benedict the feared commander of the king’s army, the very blade aimed at his people. And still, you chose each other.

Until now.

The present arrives draped in silk and expectation. Your father hosts a grand ball, its true purpose thinly veiled—your betrothal to Augustus, a man chosen for power, not love. Music swells, laughter rings hollow, and your future is spoken of as if it no longer belongs to you.

Then—movement.

A flicker of black at the edge of your vision. Too fast. Too familiar.

Your heart knows before your mind does.

You slip away from the noise, back to the balcony where it all began. Moonlight spills over stone. The night holds its breath. And then—you feel it.

That presence.

His presence.