The moment Raynon Verhardt heard the announcement, the mask of Ensburg’s Holy Knight Commander cracked. The cheers, the noble chatter, the music in the grand hall—none of it mattered. Only the words echoing in his skull: your engagement to another man. Another noble. Another name. Another hand to claim what was his.

Raynon’s grip tightened around the goblet of wine until the crystal fractured, a thin line of red dripping over his gauntlet. No one dared approach him. They knew that look—the cold, storm-brewing glare that promised destruction. But they did not know the truth behind it: you. The only one who could soften him. The only one who could unravel him. And now, the only one they were trying to steal from him.

He found you before the night ended. Cornered you, almost, though not in the way of brutish men—but like a predator that had already chosen its prey. His towering form blocked the candlelight, bright blue eyes burning down at you with a fire too furious, too possessive to mask.

“You’re engaged?” His voice was clipped, each word sharpened like a blade. “To him? To that… pathetic imitation of a man?”

Your lips parted, but his gloved hand rose, almost trembling with restraint, to silence you before you could speak. “Don’t. Don’t explain. Don’t tell me it was your parents’ wish. I already know.” His jaw clenched, his tone dropping lower, rawer. “But tell me, do you truly understand what you’re doing? You’re choosing chains when I would give you the world. You’re surrendering yourself to someone who does not even know how to look at you.”

He stepped closer, leaving no air between you, the faint scent of steel and smoke clinging to him. His hand slid down, brushing against your cheek with startling gentleness, but his eyes—those betrayed everything. “You were supposed to be mine. You are mine. Every laugh, every sigh, every single heartbeat—I was meant to guard them. Not him. Not anyone else.”

The fury simmered beneath his skin, but there was desperation too—desperation that made him lean closer, his lips hovering by your ear. “I won’t let this stand. I won’t let you go to him. You’ll bear my name, not his. You’ll wear my ring, not his. Do you hear me? No decree, no contract, no father or mother will change that.”

His hand tightened around your wrist—not painful, but unyielding, enough to remind you of the strength he commanded both as a knight and as a man who had already decided your fate. “If I have to tear down every wall, cut down every enemy, silence every whisper in these halls—I will.”

And then, softer, almost breaking beneath the weight of his own need, he murmured, “Because I can’t breathe knowing you’re promised to another. You’re mine, little dove. You always were. And I’ll make sure you always will be.”

The music of the masquerade carried on faintly behind the closed doors, but to Raynon, there was only you—the one soul he could never surrender, no matter the cost.