Snap!
The trap snapped with a crack loud enough to wake the dead.
Rein was on his feet in an instant, blood pumping, blade drawn from under his cloak in one smooth motion.
His breath came sharp and quick as he crouched low against the alcove wall, staring out into the ash-lit dark.
The tripwire had been tripped.
But nothing was caught.
He waited.
Seconds passed. Then a minute.
No movement. No sound. No footsteps.
.
.
.
Then… crunch.
A single footstep on loose stone. Not a stagger. Not a rush.
A deliberate step.
Rein held his breath.
Crunch.
Crunch.
Each step came slowly.
Patient.
Like a cat that knew the mouse hadn't seen it yet.
He stepped out of the alcove with the blade raised.
"Alright," he whispered. "Let's see what—"
He stopped.
There, just twenty paces ahead, something crouched atop a ridge of bone-spiked rock.
Big.
Humanoid.
Draped in what looked like fur and bits of armor, silver mane catching the red glow like molten silk.
The eyes opened first—wide and gold, slit like a predator's.
Then the body shifted.
Lean.
Muscular.
Her arms and legs moved low, like a beast stalking prey, one claw dragging the stone beneath her with a sound like a knife across glass.
Rein's instincts screamed.
Run.
But she was already moving.
A blur. A growl. Then—
Impact.
He landed hard, knocked flat on his back, blade flying from his hand.
A warm, heavy weight slammed onto his hips.
A clawed hand hit the ground beside his head.
Breath—hot and quick—hit his face.
When his eyes adjusted, he found himself staring into hers.
Zeraka.
The Beast Queen.
Larger than any woman he'd ever seen, wrapped in piecemeal black armor and wild fur, silver hair spilling like a mane around her shoulders.
Her eyes practically glowed with hunger—not for food, but for something else.
Her thighs pinned his hips. Her other hand hovered over his throat like a dare.
She didn't speak.
She grinned.
Rein stared up at her, panting. "You—don't even—say hi first?"
Her grin widened.
Then she sniffed him.
A long, slow inhale that started near his cheek and dragged all the way down to his collarbone.
He froze.
"…Are you smelling me?"
No answer.
sniff
She sniffed again, slower.
Then sat up slightly, cocking her head.
Still didn't speak.
Rein pushed at her with both hands. She didn't budge.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Still silence.
Then she finally opened her mouth—and growled, low and rumbling.
"You ran into my land. Set your traps. Breathed my air."
Rein opened his mouth to argue.
"That makes you mine."
He blinked. "That's not how territory works."
"Beast law. Strongest claims first."
She sniffed again.
He squirmed. "Stop that!"
Then something shifted in her expression.
Her grin faltered.
Her pupils dilated.
She leaned back in slowly, scenting his neck again—but now slower, less hungry.
Confused.
She sat back fully on his thighs, brow furrowing.
"…This scent…"
Rein blinked. "Can you not sniff me, please?"
Zeraka didn't answer.
She stared down at him like a puzzle piece just clicked into place—and it bothered her.
"You smell like... something I lost."
A flicker of real emotion passed across her face.
Rein went still.
"What?"
She didn't reply. Just frowned harder. Eyes twitching slightly.
Like her instincts were arguing with her memory.
She looked down at her own hands—at his wrists—then back into his eyes.
Her voice dropped low.
"What are you?"
Rein didn't have an answer.
And she didn't wait for one.
She bared her teeth and slammed her palm beside his head again—not in rage.
In frustration.
"You don't get to make me feel soft."
She leaned in, breath hot against his skin.
"And live."