~IAN~

He stepped from the building like night itself had conjured him.

Silver hair spilled down his back like liquid moonlight. His dark skin gleamed beneath the torches, muscles shifting beneath a fitted black tunic that clung to him like a second skin. Its neckline was open, exposing a chest laced with old scars and tribal ink that pulsed faintly in the firelight.

Over it, a deep crimson robe swept the ground – ceremonial, fur-lined, and heavy, embroidered with gold runes that shimmered ...