Rain starts again, a gentle patter that seeps into my ragged clothes. My collar is cold against my neck. If I had any illusions about my situation, they fade with the next flash of lightning overhead.I’m alone. Injured. No supplies, no real plan.The wilderness doesn’t care if I live or die.

I half-limp, half-walk along the narrow trail, letting my instincts guide me. At least the fortress is behind me. Maybe if I stay hidden in the depths of the forest, the dark elves won’t bother chasing me all that far, especially with gargoyles looming overhead.

A vivid memory from the courtyard floods my mind: a silhouette in the sky, wings spread wide, eyes possibly meetingmine. A shiver crawls down my spine. Something about that instant felt electric, like a thread of awareness connecting me to…whoever that gargoyle was.

My cheeks burn. It’s absurd to imagine any sense of connection with a murderous gargoyle. My entire life, I’ve heard how savage they are, how they hate humans, especially women—potential purna. Yet the memory won’t leave.Am I drawn to him because I sense that my fate and his are intertwined? Or am I simply imagining things?

The path twists downhill, leading to a shallow stream. I’m careful on the slick rocks, wincing as I test each step with my injured ankle. The chain around my collar drags in the mud, but at least there’s enough slack for me to move freely.I wish I could break it off.

I kneel by the water, cupping my hands to drink. The cold liquid soothes my parched throat. I wash the blood off my palms and arms, hissing when the water hits scrapes and cuts. Then I try to rinse the dirt off the iron collar as best I can—pointless, but it makes me feel fractionally less like a slave.

A crash in the underbrush makes me freeze mid-motion. I spin, water sloshing between my fingers. The boars again? Or… something else?

I hold my breath, listening to the hush of the trees. A large shape looms between the trunks. My pulse rockets. For a split second, I expect to see a gargoyle. But the silhouette is too squat, too graceless. Then it moves into a patch of weak daylight, and I see it’s a dark elf, one of the fortress scouts, accompanied by a mangy hound straining at a leash.

My stomach drops.They tracked me.

Before I can react, the hound lets out a baying bark and lunges toward me. The dark elf points a short spear, his face twisted with triumph. “There you are,” he snarls, eyes sweeping over me like I’m a prize.

I scramble to my feet, adrenaline spiking. My ankle threatens to buckle. The hound advances, snarling, eyes red with that same dark magic I’ve seen in the fortress kennels. Fear shrieks through me. I glance around—no weapon in sight.

The elf steps closer, spear raised. His voice drips with malice. “You murdered one of our own, slave. Now you’ll die like the dog you are.”

I try to back away, but the hound rushes forward, forcing me to dodge. My foot slips in the mud, sending a spike of agony through my injured ankle. I cry out, barely keeping my balance. The collar’s chain clinks around me, tangling my arms. The elf laughs.

He lunges with the spear. I sidestep, heart pounding. The hound snaps at my legs.I can’t keep this up.My eyes dart around, searching desperately for an escape route. The stream behind me. A cluster of boulders to my right. Dense undergrowth to my left.

“Trying to run again?” the elf taunts, cutting off my path. “I’ll take pleasure in dragging you back by your hair.”

The hound snarls, saliva dripping from its jaws. Despair wells in my chest.I escaped only to be recaptured. Why did I think I stood a chance?

Suddenly, a deafening roar splits the air overhead—like thunder, but more immediate. The dark elf’s gloating expression falters. We both look up. A vast shape plummets through the canopy, scattering branches and leaves. For a heartbeat, I don’t believe my eyes.A gargoyle.

He lands with enough force to rattle the ground, wings half-furled around a muscular body of stone-like flesh. My breath lodges in my throat. This gargoyle is massive—taller than any creature I’ve seen. His molten gold eyes slash across the clearing, taking in the scene.

The dark elf curses, stumbling back, spear aimed warily at the newcomer. The hound growls, but its hackles rise with uncertain fear.Why is a gargoyle here?

The gargoyle’s gaze flicks to me, our eyes lock. My pulse pounds in my temples, dizzying. For an instant, I forget to breathe. There’s a flash of recognition that sends a jolt through my entire body.I swear I’ve seen him before.

He snarls, turning on the elf with lethal intent. The elf thrusts the spear, but the gargoyle swats it aside like a twig, then sends the hound flying with one swipe of his powerful tail. The dog yelps, crashing into a tree trunk. The dark elf tries to retreat, panic contorting his features.

A blur of movement and the gargoyle’s claws close around the elf’s throat. A wet gasp, a sickening crunch, and it’s over. The elf slumps to the ground, limp. All I can do is stand there, trembling, as the gargoyle’s chest heaves with battle fury.

For a long moment, neither of us moves. The forest seems to hold its breath. My ankle throbs, my chain rattles, and the gargoyle’s molten stare is locked on me. I sense raw power rolling off him in waves, a predatory aura that should terrify me. And itdoes, but something else flickers inside me—an undeniable pull, a strange ache.

Am I next? The stories say gargoyles cull human women. Yet he doesn’t lunge, doesn’t snap my neck. He just stands there, muscles tense, as if fighting some inner struggle.

My heart is pounding so hard I can scarcely think. I can almost feel his breath, see the faint shift of his wings. A thousand questions swirl in my head, but I can’t shape a single word.

With a low, guttural sound, more a growl than a voice—he jerks his head, as if telling me to run. Or maybe it’s a challenge. I can’t tell. My knees threaten to give out. My fear wars with an inexplicable surge of gratitude. He saved me, butwhy?

Behind us, the hound lets out a pitiful whimper, still alive but injured. The gargoyle flicks a glance at it, then back to me. I half-expect him to finish off the beast, but instead, he steps away, giving me space.

Am I free to go?

Every instinct screams that I should dash into the forest—away from this monstrous creature. And yet, something in his eyes holds me transfixed. They aren’t mindless or purely predatory. They’re… haunted. Conflicted.

Thunder growls overhead again, making me flinch. My ankle aches, fresh blood trickling down my calf. I’m not in any shape to outrun a gargoyle, if that’s even possible.