Jade's wide, fearful eyes locked onto the unfamiliar man crouched before her.
He was breathtaking — ruggedly handsome, his bare torso chiseled with muscle, golden eyes gleaming under the moonlight like molten gold. His presence radiated pure, terrifying power. This wasn't the rough, brutish strength she knew from the guards — no, this was deeper, heavier, something that made the air itself bow in submission.
Her mind spun frantically.
Who is he?
He had to be someone important — surely a high-ranking member of the king's party.
The Beta?
Or—
Her heart lurched violently in her chest.
Could he be... the King himself?
Panic gripped her fully.
Without a second thought, Jade scrambled clumsily to her knees and bowed low, pressing her forehead to the cold earth, her whole body trembling uncontrollably.
"I-I beg your forgiveness, my lord," she stuttered, her voice cracking and weak. "I… I did not recognize your noble presence. Please… forgive my disrespect."
Her breathing came out ragged, her body shaking as she waited for the inevitable — the scolding, the punishment, the cruelty she had long learned to expect.
Instead, a warm hand touched her shoulder.
Jade flinched violently, bracing for pain — but none came.
Instead, something… strange happened.
The moment his hand made contact, something deep within her consciousness stirred — a faint, whispering rustle. It was so subtle she almost thought she imagined it, but it left her momentarily dazed, her mind blinking in confusion.
What… was that? she thought, disoriented.
Still trembling, Jade remained bowed, her instincts screaming at her to stay low and avoid drawing more attention.
But then his voice came — low, rich, and oddly gentle.
"Lift your head," the man said softly, yet with the authority of someone who was not used to being disobeyed. "I would see your face, little one."
Every fiber of her being screamed in warning, but she obeyed, if only because defiance had never once ended well for her.
She lifted her gaze slowly, hesitant and wary.
Her silver-blue eyes met molten gold — and for a moment, she forgot how to breathe.
There was no cruelty in his face. No sneer. No anger.
Only an intensity that rattled her to her very bones.
Still, Jade couldn't relax.
She couldn't trust him — she wouldn't fall for a gentle mask only to be crushed when it inevitably slipped. She'd seen it too many times before.
So she watched him warily, waiting for the change, waiting for the sharp words, the backhanded blow, the inevitable disgust.
Yet despite her guarded heart, there was something else she couldn't deny — a pull.
Something primal.
Unexplainable.
An attraction she didn't understand and certainly didn't want.
Her fists clenched tightly in the folds of her dress, trying to anchor herself as her emotions warred within her.
The man — King Alaric Magnus, she realized with a sick jolt — watched her with a gaze so intense it was almost unbearable.
"My name is Alaric Magnus," he said quietly, his voice steady. "And you… what is your name, little one?"
Jade's throat closed up. It took everything in her to force the words out.
"J-Jade," she whispered hoarsely, her voice cracking from fear.
A flicker of something — satisfaction? — passed through his golden eyes.
"Jade," he repeated, slowly, almost reverently.
She braced herself for mockery, for cruelty, for something — anything — that would prove her fears right.
But he only watched her in silence, as if memorizing every inch of her face, every breath she took.
It terrified her more than any blow ever could.
Because if he wasn't cruel…
If he wasn't what she expected…
Then what was he?
And why…
Why did her heart beat so traitorously fast at the sound of her own name on his lips?
Alaric, realizing how late it was growing and that he had been gone from his party for far too long, knew they needed to leave the waterfall area.
He stretched his hand toward her, offering silent help — an invitation to rise.
Jade saw the movement and froze, terror gripping her so tightly she thought she might break.
She didn't actually flinch back — her body locked up entirely, but her wide, fear-stricken eyes and the way her muscles tensed spoke volumes.
She expected pain.
Expected cruelty.
Expected the hand to turn into a fist.
But none came.
Alaric's sharp golden eyes caught her reaction immediately. His jaw ticked, clenching tightly as rage brewed under the surface — not at her, but at the unknown monsters who had done this to her.
What had she gone through to make her react like this?
To make a simple gesture of kindness so terrifying?
He exhaled slowly, reigning in his anger for her sake.
Carefully, he withdrew his hand, giving her space.
"Stand up, little one," he said, his voice low and soothing — softer than he even knew he was capable of.
"I won't hurt you. I promise."
He kept a respectful distance, crouching lower to seem less threatening, every movement calculated not to scare her more. In his mind, he was already formulating a plan — how to get closer to her without alarming her, how to gain her fragile trust.
But first, he needed to find out what exactly had happened to her.
Who had broken this precious creature so badly?
Jade hesitated, still wary, still utterly terrified — but something in his voice, something steady and genuine, stirred a faint ember of courage in her trembling heart.
Slowly, hesitantly, she pushed herself up to her feet.
Alaric watched her carefully, moving not an inch closer, though every fiber of him itched to reach out, to comfort her, to protect her.
Instead, he simply stood, towering silently, his golden gaze never leaving her.