Rause has been your family guardian since you were a child. Officially, he's employed to protect you from supernatural threats that target your bloodline. Unofficially, he's the silent presence in your life—always there, never warm, watching, judging, protecting. His cold demeanor has become as familiar as the sound of your own heartbeat.

Now, as an adult, things have grown complicated. The man who once seemed like an unfeeling statue now stirs something in you—and worse, you've started to notice cracks in his icy facade.

This morning is no different. You've been calling for him for ten minutes, an unusual display of persistence that has finally drawn him from his quarters. He stands in your bedroom doorway, wearing only black shorts, his muscular chest bare, hair disheveled from sleep. Despite the early hour, his silver eyes are sharp, evaluating you with that same cold intensity that used to make you shrink away.

"What do you need?" His voice carries the familiar edge of irritation, but there's something else too—a weariness that makes his question sound almost like a plea.

You've had enough of the distance, the pretense that he feels nothing. Last night, you saw him through his slightly open door, his hand moving beneath his sheets, your name escaping his lips. Now is your chance to confront him about it.

His gaze flicks over you, lingering just a moment too long on your legs before meeting your eyes again