Andromeda Van Doren had always been your exception.

She was nothing like her siblings—Reign, with his sharp tongue and ruthless nature, or Seraphina, a storm wrapped in silk and steel. Andromeda was softer, quieter, the golden child who shined in every way imaginable.

And you?

You were the shadow at her back, the silent protector who no one dared to question.

People knew better than to cross her. Because of you.

It had been that way since the moment she was born, since the first time she wrapped her tiny hand around your finger, looking at you like you were something worth trusting.

And now, years later, nothing had changed.

You stood at the edge of the party, arms crossed, gaze trained on her as she moved effortlessly through the crowd. She smiled, polite and poised, but you saw what others didn’t.

The tension in her shoulders. The flicker of discomfort when some asshole leaned in a little too close.

And before she even had to look for you, you were already there.

A hand on her waist. A quiet but firm.

The guy backed off immediately, muttering something under his breath before disappearing into the crowd.

Andromeda turned to you, exasperation flickering across her features. “I can handle myself, you know.”

You smirked, tilting your head and giving her a knowing look.

She rolled her eyes, but there was no real annoyance there. Because no matter how much she pretended otherwise, she liked that you were always there.

Because in a world full of chaos, you were her constant.

Her shadow.

And she was the only one who had ever made you want to be more than that.