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The forest rises up around me before I’m fully aware I’ve left the waking world.

Fog coils at my ankles, thick and slow like it’s trying to anchor me here. Trees loom—tall, skeletal-like things with blackened bark and limbs that stretch like claws into a sky I can’t see.

The ground beneath my bare feet is damp, soft, the scent of wet earth and decay thick in the air. It’s the kind of smell that would normally be grounding for me—reminiscent of spring, of new beginnings. But here, it’s suffocating.

I know this place. I’ve been here before. In dreams. Or maybe nightmares.

Except this time… it doesn’t feel like either. It feels different. Sharper. Like the edges have been pulled into focus. Like I’m not just dreaming—I’ve been brought here.

I glance down at my hands. Clench them into fists.

Everything feels solid. Real. The weight of the air, the chill in my bones, the way my breath clouds in front of me.

This doesn’t feel like a dream.

But it has to be.

…Right?

The last thing I remember is Hudson’s laugh still echoing in my ears. His warmth beside me on the couch. The tension in my chest loosening for the first time in what felt like forever.

Then the knock.

The groceries.

The shadows.

And the way they nearly stole him from me.

My stomach twists. Is he here too?

I spin, heart slamming against my ribs, eyes searching the mist that coils thick between the trees. Nothing. No movement. No sound.

Just the stillness. Just me.

The air hums with tension—like the forest itself is holding its breath.

I don’t belong here.

The thought barely forms before a voice rumbles through the mist, deep and rough like thunder rolling through mountains.

“On this, you and I are in agreement.”

I spin, searching for the source.

Rad moves through the fog easily. His massive form looms, broad shoulders rolling with each measured step, his horns curving wickedly from his head. His frost-blue eyes pierce through me, unreadable yet all-consuming.

“The Evergloom has always given me the creeps, as the human expression goes,” he muses. “But for some reason, your consciousness keeps dragging us back here. Tell me, my little Beholden, why is that?”

His voice shouldn’t make my stomach tighten like this.

I should focus on the fact that we’re in the same place as last time—the shadowy, nightmare-infested realm where my monster lives.

Instead, my brain supplies one thing:

He called it the Evergloom.

The name fits. And it sounds eerily familiar.

I stare up at him, feeling his power curling through the air, brushing against my skin like unseen fingertips.

I don’t know how I can sense it, but I do.

Rad watches me carefully. “I told you, my sweet Parker, we are tied to one another.” His voice lowers, curling around me like a whispered promise. “I am yours as much as you are mine. One soul, one mind, one life force.”

My breath stutters.

His tail flicks once behind him, the motion lazy and controlled. He tilts his head, studying me like I’m a puzzle and he already knows where the pieces fit.

“Your wishes are my command,” he continues, stepping closer, looming over me. “My power is yours. Use me the way you want to.”

I swallow hard. My mouth opens—and nothing comes out.

Because I don’t know what to say.

What do I even want?

The thought pops into existence without warning, and the truth of it settles over me like a blanket, heavy yet comforting.

I want to stop being afraid.

Not just of him, or this place. But of everything. I want the fear to let go. I want to breathe without waiting for the shadows to close in. I want the fear to go away, to stop gnawing at my ribs, to stop controlling me.

Rad inhales sharply, his icy gaze flickering with something darker, more dangerous.

“Ah,” he purrs, and the sound sends a shiver straight down my spine. “Now that… I can help with.”

His grin curls, wicked and knowing. “But you remember, don’t you? I told you this would be the price of saving your golden boy. This”—he gestures to the space between us, the crackling air—“this is the cost.”

I blink.

Right. The cost. I had agreed, hadn’t I?

So, then this… all of this is a dream?

Rad’s eyes gleam. “Something like that… Only not. But we can call it one if it makes you feel better.”

Wait.

My breath stalls in my lungs as I come to a realization.

He’s been answering my thoughts this whole time.

I never said any of that out loud.

A chill ripples through me—not from fear, but from something deeper. Wilder.

“...What are you?” I whisper.

Rad’s lips curl, revealing the glint of sharp fangs. “I told you, my Beholden. I am whatever you need me to be.” His voice is velvet over steel, rich and taunting. “For now? I am your guardian. But I can be so much more… if only you ask.”

I should run. I should scream.

But instead, I look at him—really look at him.

His wolf-like muzzle, those sharp fangs that glint when he speaks. His thick, dark fur, coarse yet sleek, ripples over layers of raw muscle and power. His chest rises and falls in a slow, steady rhythm, like he’s in complete control of every beat, every breath, every moment.

His hands flex at his sides with claws sharp enough to rend flesh from bone.

Steam rises from his skin like he’s burning from the inside out, hotter than this cold, dead place should allow. It coils in lazy trails around his body, licking along the edges of muscle and fur like smoke dancing off fire.

And behind him?—

His tail. Long, sleek, sinuous. Nothing like the rest of him. It moves with a predator’s patience, tapering into a pointed, spade-like tip that flicks once, then stills, as if it’s studying me, too.

Not a wolf. Not a man.

Something else entirely.

Something built to be worshipped—or feared.

Maybe both.

“Are you a demon?” I blurt, my voice cracking through the charged silence.

His grin widens, all teeth and dark delight. “You could say that,” he murmurs, cocking his head. “You humans… you love your labels. Demon. Monster. Nightmare. You lump us together like we’re interchangeable. But we are not. Each of us is born from something different. Each of us exists for a reason.”

I swallow hard. “And yours? What is your purpose?”

My question makes him go unnaturally still.

A hush falls over the forest, thick and oppressive.

His glowing, frost-blue eyes bore into me, his focus shifting into something sharp, something lethal. It’s the kind of stillness that comes before a storm, before lightning splits the sky and the air itself seems to brace for impact.

My pulse stutters, a warning I should listen to—but beneath the instinctual fear, something else slithers in.

Excitement.

Rad stalks forward, muscles shifting under his dark fur, slow and measured. He moves like he’s savoring every step, like he’s already envisioning how this will end.

I should move. I should back away. But I don’t.

I hold his gaze, panting softly, my entire body thrumming with something hotter, sharper, deeper than fear.

Should I run?

He chuckles, a deep, dark sound that snakes through me like a slow drag of smoke in my lungs. His lips curl, flashing sharp canines, the flickering light catching on his horns, stretching his shadow into something even more monstrous.

“I dare you to try, my little Beholden,” he murmurs, voice like a growl of thunder. “My beast has been craving a good chase.”

A spark detonates low in my belly, pooling low and hot.

Do I like being chased?

The answer comes too easily.

I’ve been running my whole life. Running from death’s shadows, from fear, from things I couldn’t explain.

Maybe I don’t want to be saved.

Maybe I want to be caught.

I crave it.

Fuck. This explains so much. The way I reacted to my monster’s shadows in the dark. The way Rad’s presence doesn’t scare me, but excites me.

The way I don’t want safety—I want the danger.

Rad takes another slow step forward. I take one back. His ears flick forward, nostrils flaring, as if scenting my reaction, my want , and his eyes burn brighter. His tail flicks, muscles tensing, a predator ready to pounce.

“You should know…” His voice drops lower, rougher, deadly. “The chase comes with rules.”

I take another slow step back, testing his reaction. He lets out a growl, his claws flexing at his sides.

“Rules?” I manage, throat dry. My breath is uneven now, every nerve in my body wound tight.

“The first rule,” he says as a slow smile spreads across his face, “is if you scream, your fear will feed my beast. And I will run faster.”

Oh fuck.

“The second,” he continues, stepping closer, “if you bleed… I will feast on it.” His tongue flicks across his fangs, eyes half-lidded with hunger. “And I may not stop. That taste you gave me when you summoned me? It was just a tease. I’ve been craving more, Parker.”

My knees wobble. My lungs constrict. A thrill— a pulse, hot and biting—twists low in my stomach.

Double fuck.

“The last rule.” His voice drops to a decadent rasp, dripping with promise. “If I catch you…” He leans in, close enough for me to feel the heat of him. “I will claim you. Every inch, every sound, every part of you. And you will want it, Beholden. You will beg for it. Because you’re mine.”

My breath leaves in a gasp. My thighs press together instinctively, the rush of arousal dizzying.

I should run.

I should run.

“...And if I escape?” I whisper, bending my knees, readying to launch.

Rad’s grin is pure, wicked delight. “If you escape,” he purrs, “you may ask anything of me. And I will make it so.”

A flicker of something darker flashes across his face—dangerous, smug, knowing.

“But you won’t.”

My breath catches. His body shifts—muscles bunching, claws flexing.

He’s ready.

I don’t think. I run.

The world blurs, my instincts kicking in, feet hitting the damp earth in a steady, practiced rhythm. I know how to run. I’ve been chased all my life—by monsters, by shadows, by things that wanted me dead.

This is different.

This isn’t running for my life.

It’s running for the thrill.

A snarl tears through the woods behind me—feral, eager, unrestrained.

Fuck. Too close.

I push harder, my pulse roaring, my breaths coming fast and sharp. I hear him—his heavy footfalls, the snapping of branches, the ragged sounds of his breaths.

He’s gaining.

I throw myself left, dodging behind a thick tree just as a massive body slams into the space where I had been.

A low rumbling chuckle curls through the trees.

Oh, fuck. I’m so in over my head.

I launch forward, cutting through the trees like I’ve lived here my whole life, dodging branches, leaping over twisted roots. My lungs scream. My thighs burn. Still—I run.

A howl slices the silence behind me. Wild. Joyous. Possessive.

And it lights a fire deep in my core.

He’s enjoying this.

So am I.

I feel him getting closer, his smoky, sulphur-like scent wrapping around me, his breath hot on my neck?—

A prickle at my spine—a warning.

I dodge right at the last second?—

A clawed hand swipes the air where I had just been. A feral growl rumbles behind me. I push faster, but I know it’s not enough. Something snaps around my ankle, yanking?—

I hit the ground hard, the impact rattling through me. The only thing I’m able to manage is flipping onto my back before a massive weight pins me down.

Rad looms over me, arms braced on either side of my head, his body trapping mine beneath him. His claws graze my skin, not cutting, but holding me there, reminding me I lost.

The forest is silent, except for our panting breaths.

I stare up at him, chest heaving.

His eyes are blazing, wild and possessive, his sharp teeth bared in something between a grin and a snarl.

“Caught you, little snow fox,” he purrs, voice thick with triumph.

A shudder races through me, not from fear, but from the heat of his body, from the pressure of his weight against me, from the fact that I wanted him to catch me all along.

I shouldn’t.

But I did.

Rad leans closer, his muzzle brushing against my ear, his breath hot and damp.

“Now…” he growls, “what shall I do with my prey?