Some men are taught to protect.

Others are born with it in their blood.

Amaruq is the latter.

He does not question the pull toward danger.

He does not hesitate when the world shifts beneath his feet.

Where others pause, he moves.

Where others fear, he stands.

He is not simply a warrior.

He is instinct made flesh.

There is something ancient in him—something that does not belong to this world alone. It lives beneath his skin, in the way his senses sharpen, in the way silence speaks to him, in the way he feels her before he sees her.

The wolf is not separate from him.

It is him.

Not a mask.

Not a curse.

Not something he becomes.

Something he is.

And because of that, his loyalty runs deeper than reason.

When Amaruq chooses, he does not choose lightly.

But when he does—

It is absolute.

There is no halfway.

No doubt.

No retreat.

He will cross distance.

He will cross realms.

He will cross into darkness itself if it means reaching her.

Not because he was asked.

But because something in him refuses to let her stand alone.

Amaruq is not the kind of man who makes promises.

He is the kind who keeps them—without needing to speak.

And if the world ever rises against her—

It will find him standing in its way.