This was no fairy-tale at all to Elara; it was a nightmare awakening.
The man that was standing in front of her, Kael, was not merely a stranger in the woods. He was a predator. He was too long, his muscles too sharp and his flesh appeared to emit some low, vibrant heat that smoked the air around him. Yet it was his eyes which really pulled the breath out of her lungs.They weren't human. They were the colour of molten gold, swirling with a wild, hungry energy that seemed to vibrate in the space between them.
He's insane, she thought, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. He's a cultist living in the wild, or a kidnapper.
"Stay back," she croaked, her fingers white-knuckled as she clutched her nylon backpack to her chest like a shield. She tried to scramble backwards, her sneakers sliding on the damp moss, but her right ankle gave a sickening, wet pop.
A scream caught in her throat as she collapsed, a sob of pure, unadulterated pain breaking through. The world spun, the green canopy above turning into a dizzying whirlpool.
Kael didn't flinch at her cry. He didn't rush over with the frantic concern of a normal person. Instead, he moved with a deeply unsettling grace—a slow, prowling gait that suggested he was closing in on prey. His nakedness seemed entirely forgotten, a secondary detail to the sheer, overwhelming power he projected. He didn't look at her with lust, which was almost more terrifying; he looked at her with a heavy, solemn ownership.
"You are hurt," he said. It wasn't a question. It was an observation of fact, his voice vibrating with a timber that felt like a low growl echoing in his chest.
"I'm fine! Just... just let me go. I won't tell anyone I saw you," she pleaded, her voice trembling so hard she could barely form the words. She tried to look away from his gold-flecked gaze, focusing instead on the blood staining her sock. "I'm just a hiker.
"I had lost the way over by the creek. I'll leave. I'll go back the way I came…'
Kael bent over and the smell of him struck her with the impact of a wave forest rain, crushed pine, musk, and some antique smell that smelled of ozone before a storm.
"he creek was the boundary, Elara, " he said, and" I dropped an octave. You passed it, and the moon has already determined your way."
"What are you talking about? What moon?" Elara's mind raced, looking for a weapon, a rock, anything. "It's morning! Look, the sun is up! Just let me walk away!"
"The sun rose on a new world for both of us," Kael murmured.
Before she could scream, he reached out. His hands were hot—feverish, as if he were burning with a permanent flu—as he scooped her up. He lifted her as if she weighed no more than a bundle of dry kindling, tucking her against his broad, scarred chest.
Elara panicked. She slammed her fists against his shoulders, but it was like hitting a wall of heated marble. Her blows didn't even make him blink.
"Put me down! Help! Somebody!" she shrieked, her voice echoing off the ancient trees.
"No one can hear you here," Kael said.
He started to walk, his steps gaining speed until he could not see the trees anymore, they were all so green and brown. He did not stump his foot on roots, or revive upon the slope. He had a supernatural efficiency in his movements. "You will be the most significant person in the world where I am taking you whether you want to or not. "
Elara turned upon his shoulder and followed the creek, the "boundary," fretting away into the shadows of the valley. A weird, chilling sensation vibrated through her body, such as the passage of a wall of passing electricity. The air became heavier and the odours more distinct and the sounds of the forest became a haunting, rhythmic throb.
She realised then, with a sinking horror that drained the blood from her face, that she wasn't just being kidnapped. She was being stolen from her world entirely.
She looked up at Kael, at the golden eyes that refused to let her go, and she knew. The hiker who had stepped into the woods that morning was gone. Only the prize remained.