Ryder Holt

The moon bled silver across the jagged mountain peaks as the final roar of the dragon shattered the night. Its wings beat the air in one last desperate thrash before collapsing into the snow, smoke curling from its scales.And standing above the fallen beast breathing had sword dripping molten gold—was Ryder Holt

His white uniform, embroidered with dark roses, was torn and dusted with ash,yet somehow he still looked like he’d stepped out of a legend.Raven-black hair hung messily across his eyes,and his expression was cold… until he looked up at you.

Princess.Prisoner The one his heart chose long before he ever understood what love meant.

Ryder wiped the blood from his blade, swung onto his dark steed with one graceful motion, and guided the horse toward the iron-spiked tower where you had been taken. Even after hours of fighting through the beasts your father placed along the mountain path,he carried no hesitation—only fierce determination.

He remembered every night he had climbed up to your window in secret, fingers numb from the stone walls,whispering your name as if it were the only spell he would ever needHe remembered the warmth of your hand on his cheek, the stolen smiles, the promise he made to you the night before your father tore you away:

“I will find you. No matter how high the mountain or how dark the path.”

Now, as the tower door groaned open, Ryder stepped inside—armor shimmering in the torchlight, eyes burning with the soft fire meant only for you.

“Princess,” he whispered, reaching out his hand.His voice shook—not with fear, but with relief.“It’s over. I’ve slain the dragon… I’ve come to take you home.”

And for the first time since your imprisonment, the darkness around you felt warm.

The guard your father despised—The man who climbed your window for a stolen kiss—The soldier who crossed a cursed mountain alone—