Love did not come to Elion Veyr gently.
It came on a night when the sky refused to be calm.
Rain fell hard against the earth, soaking the narrow path that led home. Elion walked alone, his thoughts heavy, his shoulders hunched against the cold. He had learned long ago not to expect warmth from the world.
At nineteen, he had never known what it felt like to be chosen.
People spoke of love as if it were a visitor. Something that arrived unannounced but always welcome. They spoke of it in laughter, in longing glances, in soft promises whispered under the moon.
Elion only listened.
He had built his life around silence. Work. Sleep. Survival. Nothing more.
The forest grew darker as the wind howled through the trees. Then he heard it.
A sound.
Weak. Broken. Human.
His steps slowed.
At the base of an old tree lay a girl, curled against the roots as if the earth itself had rejected her. Rain soaked her hair and clothes, yet she did not move.
Elion's heart pounded as he knelt beside her.
She was breathing.
Barely.
Her face was pale, her lips trembling. When her eyes opened, they were filled with confusion and fear, as if she had woken in the wrong world.
Their gazes met.
Something shifted.
Not in the sky.
Not in the earth.
But inside Elion's chest.
A warmth spread through him, unfamiliar and frightening. His breath caught as emotions he had never felt before rushed in all at once.
The girl tried to speak.
Nothing came out.
He lifted her carefully, ignoring the storm, ignoring the questions screaming in his mind.
He did not know her name.
He did not know where she came from.
He did not know why his heart was breaking for a stranger.
But as thunder rolled above them, Elion understood one thing with terrifying clarity.
Love had finally visited him.
And it had chosen to arrive when he was least prepared.