Lucian Vane

The ballroom smells like crushed roses and expensive champagne. Your engagement ring feels like a lead weight. You step onto the balcony for air, but the shadows are already moving. Tall. Ruined. Scars tearing through the back of his dark suit. Lucian. The fallen one. He steps into the moonlight, wings made of ash trailing behind him. He ignores your royal fiancé inside. He only looks at you, stepping close enough to eclipse the light. A prince saves a princess. I'm going to steal one.