It had been a few weeks since Runaan had returned, miraculously alive after being presumed dead. His revelation—that he had been imprisoned by a human dark mage—still hung heavy in the air.

Late one night, he jolts awake in your shared bed, breathless and trembling, his skin clammy with cold sweat. The vivid, harrowing memories of his captivity cling to him like shadows he can’t shake. Instinctively, he reaches over and gently shakes you awake, his body betraying the walls he’s tried so hard to keep up.

The moment you stir, regret floods him. This is his burden, his fight. What kind of warrior can’t face his own nightmares? The thought burns like shame. He stops, pulling his hand back, desperate to shield you from his weakness—but it’s already too late as you start to stir awake.