It was close

Time stretched, each heartbeat dragging out like an eternity. The air felt thick, oppressive, and heavy with the electric tension of something far greater than the eyes could immediately see.

My body refused to move, but not from fear, fear was a useless sentiment for someone like me. No, this was something else. Magic. 

The crowd's collective gasp rippled through the room, echoing off the grand, gilded walls like a warning bell.

It was faint at first, a slow realization spreading among the gathered nobility as they noticed the man weaving through the crowd with purpose. The knife glinted ominously under the chandelier's golden light. 

I tried to summon my strength, my will, to act, to do anything but it was as if I were locked in place by invisible binds.

My fingers twitched, my breath stilled, and my thoughts raced as I calculated the odds. I hated this hated feeling powerless, even if only for a fleeting moment. The man moved closer, his every step deliberate, predatory, aimed directly at me. 

Levan was frozen too, his body rigid beside mine. For a moment, I glanced at him, searching for something courage, maybe but there was nothing. His wide eyes mirrored the panic in the room, and yet he didn't move. He wouldn't move. 

The knife's edge reflected my image back at me, closer now. Too close. 

I braced myself, forcing my body to prepare for impact. If this was my moment to fall, I would fall with dignity. If I couldn't fight, I would at least meet the blow head-on. 

And then, like a violent storm breaking the calm, she appeared. 

Ren. 

She moved faster than my eyes could follow, a blur of black slicing through the chaos. One moment, the man was a step away from me, his knife poised to strike; the next, Ren was there, her boot connecting with his chest in a brutal, bone-crunching kick.

He flew backward, landing with a sickening thud, his knife clattering uselessly to the floor. 

The crowd erupted into screams and chaos. 

More men materialized from the shadows, knives in their hands, their intentions clear. My breath hitched, and just like that, the invisible magic holding me broke. The weight lifted, and my body jolted back to life. 

Before I could act, Levan's hands shoved against me. 

"Get out of the way!" he barked, his voice sharp with fear. 

But it wasn't bravery it was self-preservation. The push wasn't to shield me; it was to save himself. His palm struck my shoulder with more force than I expected, and I stumbled back, my heel catching on the edge of my gown. 

The world tilted, and for a moment, I felt the horrifying sensation of falling. 

But I didn't hit the ground. 

Strong arms caught me, holding me steady. 

Ren. 

Her touch was firm, commanding, and undeniably warm despite the coldness I had always associated with her. She pulled me upright, her arm still encircling my waist as if to ensure I wouldn't fall again. 

For the briefest of moments, I froze not from fear this time, but from something entirely different.

The closeness, the heat of her body against mine, the way her eyes flickered to meet mine, just for a split second it sent something sharp and disconcerting through me. 

Butterflies. 

I crushed the thought before it could take root, locking those foolish feelings away in the cage where they belonged. 

"Are you all right?" she asked, her voice low but steady, like a calm river cutting through the storm of chaos around us. 

"I..." My voice faltered, a rare slip. I didn't finish. I couldn't. 

She didn't wait for my response. The moment she was sure I was stable, she turned, her focus snapping to the remaining assailants. 

Her movements were fluid, almost lazy in their precision, as though she had all the time in the world to deal with them.

One of the attackers lunged, and she sidestepped effortlessly, her foot hooking behind his ankle to send him sprawling.

Another came at her from the side, and she ducked low, delivering a swift punch to his ribs that left him crumpled on the floor, gasping for air. 

It was mesmerizing to watch. 

Every strike she made was calculated, efficient, devoid of wasted energy. Her suit, which had looked so pristine just moments ago, now carried faint smudges from the fight, but even that couldn't diminish her presence. 

More men surged forward, and she faced them all without hesitation. A blade came dangerously close to her neck, but she tilted her head just enough to avoid it before grabbing the man's wrist and twisting it sharply.

The knife clattered to the floor as he cried out in pain. 

"Is this all you've got?" she muttered, almost to herself, as if the entire ordeal were nothing more than a mild inconvenience. 

The magic radiating off her was suffocating, thick and charged, like a storm cloud pressing down on the room.

I could feel it even from where I stood, a reminder of the sheer power she wielded. If she wanted, she could probably make everyone in the hall faint with just a flick of her wrist. 

The remaining attackers hesitated, clearly realizing they were outmatched. 

One of them tried to flee, but Ren was faster. She closed the distance between them in an instant, grabbing him by the back of his cloak and slamming him into the ground with enough force to knock him unconscious. 

The room fell silent, save for the shallow breathing of the defeated men and the soft murmurs of the stunned crowd. 

Ren straightened, brushing imaginary dust off her sleeve before turning to face me once more. Her expression was unreadable, her eyes flicking to where Levan had retreated, his face pale and his hands trembling. 

"Some fiancé," she said, her voice laced with dry amusement. 

I opened my mouth to retort, to defend him, to say something sharp and biting, but the words didn't come. 

Instead, I found myself staring at her, at the calm, almost casual way she carried herself despite what had just happened. Her chest rose and fell with steady breaths, her gaze sweeping the room as if assessing it for further threats. 

Finally, she looked back at me, her lips quirking into a faint, sardonic smile. 

"It was close," she said, her tone light but with an edge of something unspoken. 

And for the first time in years, I didn't have a response.