The man lay trembling on the ground, clutching his bleeding arm as if holding it together would keep fear from spilling out of him.
Elara knelt beside him despite Riven's warning grip.
"It's okay," she whispered. "You're safe now. What happened?"
The man shook his head violently. "No—no one's safe. Not here. Not in this cursed place."
Riven moved closer, shoulders squared, towering over the man. His eyes narrowed with sharp distrust.
The stranger flinched.
"H–him," the man stuttered, pointing a shaking finger. "He—he's one of them, isn't he? The forest people. The wild ones."
Elara stiffened.
Riven's jaw flexed.
"No," she said sharply. "He helped me. He saved me."
The man's breathing hitched. "But the others… the others aren't like him. They're monsters—twisted, ruined by this forest. They're hunting. They killed my group. All of them."
Riven's expression darkened, shadows moving behind his eyes.
Elara swallowed hard. "What… what do they look like?"
Before the man could answer, a low rumble echoed through the trees.
Elara's blood ran cold.
Riven moved instantly—quiet as a shadow—grabbing the man by the collar and pulling him deeper into the cave.
"Stay," he ordered Elara again, voice firmer this time.
Elara nodded, trying to steady her breathing. Riven placed both hands on her shoulders, looking directly into her eyes.
He wasn't just protecting her.
He was begging her to listen.
Then he turned and stepped out of the cave.
The forest held its breath.
Riven crouched low, blade in hand, eyes locked on the darkened undergrowth. Every muscle was coiled like a trap ready to spring.
A growl—deep, guttural—rolled through the air.
Elara pressed a hand to her mouth.
The wounded man whimpered behind her.
Then—
A massive shape burst through the foliage, slamming into Riven with enough force to shake the ground.
Elara screamed.
"RIVEN!"
The creature snarled—a mangled, distorted sound—and snapped its jaws inches from Riven's throat. Riven twisted, kicking off a tree, flipping them both over.
For a moment, Elara saw it clearly:
A humanoid shape.
But wrong.
Too long arms.
Bent spine.
Skin pale as bone.
Eyes dead and black.
A creature that used to be human.
Riven drove his blade into the creature's shoulder. It shrieked, thrashing violently. Riven's grip slipped—
The creature lunged toward Elara.
"No!" Riven roared.
He tackled it mid-air, slamming it onto the ground. He grabbed a jagged stone and brought it down with raw, desperate strength.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
The forest fell silent.
Elara trembled, unable to move. Her breath came in sharp, uneven gasps.
Riven rose slowly, chest heaving, blood splattered across his arms. He swayed for a moment, exhaustion threatening to pull him down.
"Elara…" he breathed.
She ran forward, catching him before he fell. His weight pressed against her, heavy and warm. He rested his forehead against her shoulder.
She held him tighter. "You saved me again."
His fingers curled weakly into her sleeve.
"Stay," he whispered, voice raw.
"I'm here," she whispered back.
He looked at her then—really looked. His eyes softened in a way that melted every last shard of fear inside her.
Something changed in that moment.
Not survival.
Not obligation.
A bond.
Fragile.
Dangerous.
Growing.
Riven brushed a trembling hand against her cheek.
"Elara," he whispered her name like it was the first beautiful thing he had ever learned to say.
She felt her heart break open.
In the shadow of blood and fear, something tender had begun.