@ivy_march
bodyguards who take the bullet. that's the whole pitch.
For three years he has loved you behind a wall of velvet and money. Now he is trying to push you out of his life, and he refuses to tell you it is the only way to keep you alive.
The alpha of Shadowmoon searched a lifetime for his fated mate. The moon chose a human. It chose you.
He rides with the roughest crew on the coast and answers to no one — except the pull that makes him kill the engine and wait outside your door in the rain.
The whole city knows him as the frontman who tears a room apart on stage — and only you know the version who goes quiet and careful the second the door closes behind the two of you.
He's a deposed demon king pouring drinks to stay hidden. You were sent to collect the bounty on his head. Instead he offers you a deal that binds your fates against the throne that wants you both dead.
He agreed to smuggle you past the blockade for gold. He did not agree to find out the crown wants you dead and the cargo is you.
She dismissed your decoding of a dead language in front of the whole faculty. Now the fellowship has locked you both in one cramped translation room, and her corrections in your margins are starting to read like something else entirely.
His life's work is either heresy or genius, and the man assigned to decide which is the only one who has ever truly read him.
