"Blood! Blood!" The little girl's voice rang out sharp and desperate, echoing off the cold, bare walls of the small room.
"Shut up!" A hard slap from a rough hand silenced her instantly. She gasped, clutching her cheek as tears welled up in her eyes.
Her hands were bound tightly with rough rope, biting into her skin. Despite the pain and fear, her wide eyes refused to look away from the small, trembling creature lying on the floor nearby — its fur matted and soaked with dark, sticky blood.
"What is that thing?" one of the men sneered, stepping closer and bending down to pick up the injured animal. "Looks like some kind of wolf pup... maybe a werewolf cub."
"Don't be ridiculous," another growled. "It's just a stray dog, probably lost and weak. Nothing to fuss about." He spat on the floor.
With a careless gesture, the man holding the cub threw it against the wall. The sickening thud made the girl flinch, but she didn't look away.
"Did you get the ransom from her parents yet?" asked a third man, pacing impatiently.
"One million," another answered, a cruel grin spreading across his face. "They're probably on their way now. Kidnapping a girl — who would've thought it could make us rich overnight?"
The kidnappers exchanged cold, greedy looks before leaving the room, slamming the door shut behind them.
Left alone in the dim silence, the girl slowly crawled toward the injured creature. Every movement sent pain stabbing through her bruised body, but she ignored it.
"Are you still alive?" she whispered softly, her voice barely audible. She took the edge of her torn shirt and pressed it gently against the cub's bleeding side, hoping to stop the flow.
For a long moment, the cub lay still. Then, suddenly, it twitched. Its small paw moved slightly, and its golden eyes fluttered open — glowing faintly in the darkness.
The cub sniffed the air, drawing in the scent of the girl. A deep, ancient feeling stirred inside him — a single word echoed clearly in his mind: 'Mate'.
Surprised, yet exhausted beyond strength, the cub settled quietly into her arms. The girl let out a shaky breath.
"Don't worry," she murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her own tear-streaked face. "My parents will come. They will definitely come. They'll find us."
As the night stretched on, they both drifted into a restless sleep, bound by a fragile hope — and a mysterious bond neither fully understood.
...
The wind carved through the mountains like blades, cold and merciless. High above the valleys below, where humans rarely dared to tread, a shadow stood at the edge of the ruined stone fortress — tall, silent, and watching.
Twelve years had passed.
Twelve long years since he had been nothing more than a half-dead cub — broken, discarded, thrown against a wall like garbage.
And yet… she had crawled to him.
A human child. Small, fragile, trembling… and fearless.
He still remembered her eyes — filled with horror, yet soft when they looked at him. Her bloodied arms had wrapped around his broken body. Her voice had begged for help not for herself… but for him.
No one had ever done that before. Not for him.
And that moment had changed everything.
She had saved him — and he had vowed, even in that fading haze between death and darkness, that he would return.
And now, he had.
No longer a cub.
He stood taller than most men now, his body forged in wilderness and war. Muscle rippled beneath scarred skin. Golden eyes glowed faintly in the twilight, sharp enough to track a bird mid-flight, or spot a heartbeat in the dark.
Twelve years had turned the boy into a weapon.
He had hunted monsters. Killed rogues. Survived ambushes meant to wipe his kind out. But through it all — through blood, fire, betrayal — one thing had never changed.
Her.
The girl in the dark room. The one who'd whispered, "Please, don't die."
The scent of her fear… and her bravery… still haunted him.
He didn't know her name. Didn't know if she'd made it out alive.
But he felt her somewhere in the world.
And the bond between them, though silent, still burned like an oath in his blood.
His claws curled into the earth.
"I'm not that cub anymore," he muttered, voice low and rough like gravel. "But you're still mine."
He turned his head to the wind, letting it wash over him. He could sense the world shifting. Soon, he would move. Soon, they would meet again.
And when they did…
No one would ever hurt her again.
The forest held its breath as he stepped forward, a storm cloaked in skin and bone.