Perfect.
Alden thought as he looked at himself in the mirror.
It had been a day since the storm called Amyra dropped her proposal on him like lightning out of a clear sky.
He was still shaken.
Her affection burned too brightly—too fiercely—for someone like him.
Someone who wasn't used to such extreme emotions.
So, he just ignored it. Love was a battlefield he had no intention of stepping into again.
He knew how much that hurt.
He had tried that once. It ended in death, grief and a version of himself he never wanted to see again.
It took him death to recover from it.
So no. Love could wait. At least until he was strong enough to protect the people he cared about.
Amyra was his friend. That was all.
He slapped his cheeks once, twice and studied his reflection again.
Jet-black hair neatly combed. Crimson eyes calm as ever. A sleek black suit that matched with the black shirt and slacks.
He didn't wear a tie… he found it suffocating.
