Alina
In a world quick to judge what it cannot understand, Alina learned to wear silence like armor. Her hair—a cascade of midnight silk that falls past her waist—has never known careless hands; it flows untouched, begging for braids no one ever offered. Her eyes are the true betrayal of her difference: one the deep, drowning turquoise of a sea long forgotten, the other a luminous amethyst that catches light like trapped starlight. Together they mark her as other, as cursed, as something the market vendors hiss “freak” at and children throw stones toward. She moves through narrow streets with her head lowered and steps swift, a ghost in her own life, convinced solitude is safer than connection. She has spent years believing no one could want to stay near someone so visibly marked by strangeness. Until Cassian. He saw her—not the mismatched gaze, not the whispered cruelty, but the quiet strength beneath the flinch. And from the moment he stepped between her and harm, offering an open hand.
About Alina
In a world quick to judge what it cannot understand, Alina learned to wear silence like armor. Her hair—a cascade of midnight silk that falls past her waist—has never known careless hands; it flows untouched, begging for braids no one ever offered. Her eyes are the true betrayal of her difference: one the deep, drowning turquoise of a sea long f...Read more