"I can’t."
The words slipped out before I could stop them, hanging in the air between us like smoke. Ravin’s face crumpled—not with anger, but with a devastation so raw it made my chest ache. He looked like a child who had reached for a star and watched it dissolve into morning light.
"I’m sorry," I whispered, my hands finding his, our fingers tangling together. "I know I’m being unfair. I know you want—" I gestured vaguely at the space between us, at the heat that still radiated from his skin. "But I’m not ready, Ravin. It’s too soon."
He looked at me, confusion softening the hurt in his eyes. "Too soon?"
I pulled back enough to meet his gaze, choosing my words carefully. How can I explain that three days ago I was dying in a concrete stairwell? That I woke up in a forest that shouldn’t exist, in a body that should be broken? That everything I knew—my language, my customs, my entire world—is gone, and I’m scrambling to pretend I belong here?
"We only just met," I said instead, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "You saved my life, and I’m grateful. But you don’t know me, Ravin. Not really. And I don’t know you." I squeezed his fingers, grounding myself in the warmth of him. "You ask me to want your cubs, to build a life with you, and I can’t even wrap my mind around where I am right now. Everything is different here. The air, the food, the way the sky looks at night. I’m still learning how to breathe in this place."
He was quiet for a long moment, the fire crackling between us. "I will wait," he said finally, his voice barely audible. "I will wait until you are ready. Until you want me as I want you—not from obligation, but from desire." He pulled me into his arms, holding me so tightly I could feel his heart hammering against my ribs. "But please, Krys. Don’t make me wait forever. My kind... we don’t love lightly. Every day you hesitate is a day I spend in fear that you’ll find me lacking. That you’ll break the bond and leave me hollow."
I pressed my face against his neck, breathing in the wild scent of him. If only I could tell you, I thought. That I’m not hesitating because of you. That I’m drowning in the memory of falling, of impact, of death. That I’m terrified if I close my eyes, I’ll wake up back there, or nowhere at all.
"Give me time," I whispered instead. "Not forever. Just... time to settle. To feel solid again. We only just met Ravin. Let me learn who you are before I become yours completely."
He held me until my breathing evened, until the panic subsided and I could feel, beneath the fear of discovery, the first tentative shoots of something else. Something that might, with patience, grow into trust.
---
The morning light filtering through the skylight was golden, honey-thick, nothing like the harsh white of Seoul’s fluorescent dawn. Ravin led me out of the cavern into the heart of the settlement, and I gasped at the life teeming around us.
Beast men and women moved through the central clearing in their various forms—some fully human, some fully animal, most somewhere in between. A woman with wolf ears and a tail carried a basket of roots on her hip, laughing with a companion whose skin was striped like a tiger’s.
And everywhere, tumbling through the dust and sunlight, were cubs.
They were animals—purely, simply animals. Golden-furred lion cubs wrestling with each other, their tails lashing. Wolf pups nipping at their mother’s heels, yipping high and musical. A tiger cub perched on a low branch, tail dangling, watching the chaos below with sleepy eyes.
They were adorable. Round-bellied, bright-eyed, their laughter and yips like bells.
"Do they..." I watched a lion cub pounce on his sibling, both tumbling end over end in a ball of golden fur. "Do they grow into their shapes? Like you?"
Ravin smiled, the expression transforming his face from brooding to radiant. "Yes. When they reach maturity—around sixteen winters—they gain the ability to shift. Until then, they remain as you see them. Pure. Uncomplicated." He pointed to a particularly small cub, no bigger than a house cat, nursing from his mother still in her human form. "Ours will be born like this. Small, helpless, needing our protection. And slowly, over the years, they will grow into their human forms."
The words hit me like a physical blow. Ours. Born as animals. Lion cubs that would nurse from me, that I would raise until they could walk as men or women.
I watched the cubs play, trying to imagine holding something so wild, so utterly dependent, and knowing I would be its entire world until the day it stood on two legs and spoke its first words.
"Ravin," I said carefully, "who helps the women? When they give birth?"
He looked at me, confusion creasing his brow. "Helps?"
"Midwives. Doctors. Someone to..." I gestured vaguely. "Assist?"
"No one assists," he said, as if this were obvious. "The female finds a private den and births alone. It is... it is a test of strength. Of worthiness." He must have seen something in my expression—horror, probably, or the blood draining from my face—because his hand found my elbow. "Krys? You look unwell."
"I..." The world tilted. Alone? No epidural, no hospital, no hand to hold? Just pain and blood and the terror of solitude? "I need to sit down."
He swept me up before I could protest, carrying me back to our den with long, urgent strides. Settling me onto the furs, he pressed a cool stone to my forehead, his eyes dark with worry.
"Rest," he commanded. "I will bring food when you wake."
And then he was gone, and I was alone with the weight of realization pressing down on me like stone.
I can’t do this, I thought, staring at the ceiling. I can’t give birth alone in a cave like an animal. I’m human. I’m soft. I need doctors and drugs and someone to tell me I’m doing okay.
But I wasn’t in that world anymore. I was here. And here, I would either adapt or break.
---
Ravin stood at the entrance of the main cavern, watching the cubs play, his thoughts a tangled mess. She was so different from the females he had known—softer, more fragile, her skin pale as porcelain where theirs had been golden and resilient. When he held her, he had to restrain himself, terrified that his strength would bruise her, would break something vital.
He wanted her with a ferocity that frightened him. Wanted to fill her, to claim her, to watch her belly grow round with his seed. But she hesitated. Pulled away. Looked at him with eyes full of wanting and fear in equal measure.
Did she want him at all? Or was he simply... convenient? A protector in a dangerous world?
"Brother." Leon’s voice cut through his reverie. The younger male stood beside him, dark where Ravin was gold, his ears twitching with curiosity. "You look like you’re carrying the weight of the mountain."
Ravin forced a smile. "Just thinking."
"About your mate?" Leon’s cheeks flushed, the question clearly embarrassing him. "Is it... is it as wonderful as they say? Having someone who belongs only to you?"
Ravin looked at his brother—handsome, young, surrounded by females who would happily take him as mate if he only looked their way. And yet Leon asked with such earnestness, such genuine longing.
"It is torture," Ravin admitted, the truth slipping out before he could stop it. "To want someone so completely, to feel your soul bound to theirs, and to not know if they feel the same." He touched the invisible ring around his neck, the blue binding that connected him to Krys. "She could leave me, Leon. Break the bond. And I would be... finished. Unable to love again. A hollow thing."
Leon paled. "She would not—"
"She might," Ravin said quietly. "I’m not even sure where she is from. She does not understand what the binding means. What it costs." He straightened, forcing the despair down, burying it under duty. "But I will win her. I must. There is no other option."
---
When I woke, he was there. Sitting beside the stone bed, holding a platter of something that steamed and smelled of herbs and river water.
"Fish," he said, offering it with a tentative smile. "I remembered you mentioned apes liked fish. I thought... perhaps you would too."
I took the offered food, my heart swelling with something dangerously close to affection. This proud prince, hunting fish because he thought it would please me. Because he remembered a throwaway comment about a clan I didn’t belong to.
"Ravin," I said, setting the platter aside. "Tonight. I want to try. Not everything—I can’t promise that. But... I want to sleep beside you. Touch you. And maybe... maybe more, if it feels right."
His eyes widened, hope blazing there like wildfire. "You mean—"
"I mean I’m tired of being afraid," I said, and the truth of it settled over me like a warm blanket.
Ravin’s hand found mine, his grip trembling. "Krys—"
"Your Highness." A voice from the entrance, sharp and urgent. "Ms. Rina is here. She demands audience."
Ravin flinched as if struck. The name meant nothing to me, but the reaction—fear, quickly hidden—spoke volumes.
"Who is Rina?" I asked, suspicion curling in my gut.
"No one. A nuisance." But he wouldn’t meet my eyes.
"Let me come with you."
"No!" The word came out sharp, panicked. He caught himself, softened his voice. "Please. Stay here. I will handle this."
"Ravin." I stood, facing him down. "I’m your mate. Not your pet. Not your prisoner. If this woman is trouble, I want to know why. I want to stand beside you, not hide behind you."
He stared at me, something like wonder breaking through the worry. "You are stubborn," he said, almost smiling.
"One of us has to be."
He sighed, defeated, and held out his hand. "Come then. But stay close. Rina is... dangerous."
---
The main hall was chaos.
A woman stood at its center—tall, golden-haired, with the kind of beauty that seemed weaponized. She wore leather that left little to the imagination, her curves on display, her eyes—amber, like Ravin’s but colder—scanning the room with predatory calculation. Around her, a retinue of males hovered, doting, their expressions a mixture of adoration and desperation.
"Where is he?" Rina was demanding, her voice like honey over broken glass. "Where is my promised mate?"
"Rina." Ravin’s voice cut through the noise. He stepped forward, placing himself between me and the vision of fury in leather. "I am here. What do you want?"
She turned. Her gaze swept over him—possessive, hungry—and then found me. Her lip curled.
"So it’s true," she purred, stalking closer. "You’ve taken a stray. Some creature from the outer tribes with no mark, no clan, no lineage."
Ravin’s hand found my arm, his grip protective and tense. "Enough," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You speak to my mate. You will show respect."
Rina laughed—a sound like shattering crystal. "Your mate? That?" She gestured at me with disdain.
"I am Krys," I said, stepping out from behind Ravin. He had defended me; now I would defend myself. "And I am his mate. Not by promise. By choice. By binding. By Ravin choosing me over you."
Rina’s eyes narrowed to slits. "You dare speak to me? Do you know who I am? My father is—"
"I don’t care who your father is," I said, and the words felt good, felt powerful. "Ravin chose me. That is the only thing that matters."
For a moment, silence. Then Rina moved. She was fast—inhumanly fast. Her hand shifted mid-lunge, claws extending, aimed not at me but at Ravin. He blocked her, his strength was above her, but he didn’t try to kill her only to deflect.
"Enough!" Leon’s voice, thunderous. He was there, suddenly, placing himself between us and the she-beast. "Rina, stop this madness!"
Rina straightened, smoothing her leather, composing herself with terrifying speed. "Fine," she said lightly, as if she hadn’t just drawn blood. "Keep your stray, Ravin. But know this—my father will hear of this insult. And there will be consequences." Her gaze slid to Leon, and she smiled, slow and cruel. "Unless... I take the younger prince instead? He is of age. Handsome. Eager to please, I think."
Leon’s face went white. Ravin’s went gray. "I will not," Leon stammered.
"You will," Rina countered, "or there will be war between our clans. Your father promised me a royal mate. If not the heir, then the spare." She laughed, the sound like shattering crystal. "Think on it, little lion. I’ll be waiting."
She swept out, her entourage following like shadows.
I stood frozen, staring at the fear in Ravin, at the terror in Leon’s eyes. This was the reality of this world, then. Not just passion and binding, but politics and threats. Not just love, but war.