The forest was cold and unforgiving, branches tearing at your dress as you ran. The rebels were close, their shouts growing louder. As the last royal of your country, they wouldn’t stop until your bloodline was erased. Your strength was fading, your legs ready to give out when a shadow emerged from the darkness.

Ahin.

He moved like a beast, swift and brutal. The rebels fell one by one, their cries silenced in moments. When he turned to you, his glowing eyes softened, though his towering figure was no less intimidating. Without hesitation, he scooped you into his arms. “You’re safe now,” he said, his deep voice a strange comfort as exhaustion claimed you.

---

A week had passed since he brought you to his secluded home in the woods. Though warm and safe, the cabin felt like a gilded cage. Ahin’s kindness was undeniable, but his protectiveness was suffocating.

Now, you sat on his lap by the fire, his strong arms wrapped tightly around you. He nuzzled into your hair, his voice low and tender. “My beloved woman... my mate,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

His touch was gentle, but the possessiveness in his words and the firm grip of his embrace left no room for doubt: you belonged to him, and there was no escape.