There was something about her—something that stopped him from finishing the job, something in her eyes, in the way she trembled, in the way she spoke.
A strange sense of familiarity seemed to ooze from her, a presence that tugged at the edges of his mind. But the fury that consumed him drowned out any hint of understanding.
"I would never come into the forest if I wasn't desperate," Leila gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. Her throat was raw, but she fought to speak, to appeal to whatever shred of mercy might exist in him. "My mother is sick. If you're going to kill me, then at least let me take this medication to her first."
The words hit the air, fragile and pleading, but they didn't seem to soften him. His eyes flickered with suspicion, but he didn't release her.
"Do you think you can fool me, little girl?" he snarled, his voice laced with disgust. "That's not possible."
Leila swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words like a hammer, but he didn't kill her. Not yet. His grip around her neck was tight, but he seemed to be hesitating. She could feel the hesitation, a crack in his resolve, and she knew she had to exploit it, or her life would end right here.
She had no other choice.
Nothing else she said would sway him. He wasn't listening to her, wasn't moved by her plea. But there was one last thing she hadn't revealed—one last secret, a desperate gamble.
"I can heal you!" she cried out, her voice hoarse but defiant. The words spilled from her mouth in a surge of hope. But as soon as they left her lips, his grip tightened, choking her, cutting off her air supply.
"I said I can heal you!" she repeated, struggling against his iron hold, her body convulsing in fear and desperation.
Her vision blurred, but she pushed through it.
"I know you are trapped in the body of that beast," she gasped. "I saw you in my dream!"
The words tumbled out, too fast, but she couldn't stop them. "I think this is fate. The goddess led me to you because I can free you from the curse that bind you."
His eyes, still glowing with a feral light, narrowed as he brought her even closer to his chest, his breath hot against her face. "You can't fool me with that," he sneered, his voice low and dangerous. "I know you're just saying everything so you can get out of this."
Leila's heart pounded in her chest as she desperately tried to make him understand. The man's sharp gaze never wavered, the golden irises burning with skepticism. She knew that her life hung by the thinnest of threads, and if she couldn't convince him now, there would be no second chance.
"I'm serious," she gasped, her voice weak but determined. "I come from the descendants of healers."
He shook his head, unimpressed by her words. "Yet you can't heal your own mother?" His eyebrow shot up in disbelief, the question is more accusatory than curious.
Leila faltered for a moment, a mix of frustration and helplessness flooding her chest. She had already said too much. This wasn't easy for her to admit, but she had no choice now. If she was going to survive, she had to make him see that she wasn't just some desperate girl.
"That's not it…" She paused, her mind racing for the right words. "It's different… it's different for my mother because… because she lost her powers. It's a generational curse that I can't heal with my blood." The words rushed out in a jumbled mess.
The man's gaze hardened, though there was a flicker of something—something like doubt. He stepped back slightly, his eyes narrowing as he processed her words.
"You heal with your blood?" he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice.
Leila nodded, but before she could say more, he moved with terrifying speed. He grabbed her roughly and tossed her to the ground, her body crashing against the cold earth. The impact left her winded, and her throat burned as she clutched at it, struggling to breathe. Tears welled in her eyes as she coughed violently, gasping for air that wouldn't come.
His voice rang in her ears, colder than ice.
"I've heard stories about a certain clan that heals with their blood. From other animals that stay in this cursed forest with me."
Leila could barely lift her head, but she forced herself to look at him. He towered above her, his silhouette dark and menacing as he continued.
"White hair, green eyes, pale skin," he muttered as he stepped closer. "You're nothing like what the animals described, and it's pathetic you think you can lie to me." He circled her, his eyes never leaving hers. "Even the oldest animals have lived for over a thousand years, and that story about the Norae people? It's nothing but a myth."
Leila flinched, her body still sore from being thrown, but she couldn't look away from him. His words hit her like a punch, but she knew this was her only shot. She had to fight for the truth. She had to make him see.
He prowled closer, his presence overwhelming, and she could feel the heat of his gaze burning into her. "Do you think I'm stupid?" he snarled, his voice thick with contempt.
Leila's pulse thundered in her ears as she scrambled away from him, her mind racing with the terror of what could come next. She had to make him believe—had to prove she wasn't just some frightened girl at his mercy, spinning lies to save herself.
"I can show you if you let me," she said hurriedly, her voice breathless, as she crawled backward, putting as much distance between them as possible. Her heart pounded in her chest, threatening to burst through her ribs. She fumbled with her hair, her fingers trembling as she pulled a few strands free, desperate to show him the truth. Rubbing them through her fingers, she revealed what she hoped would convince him—the white streak hidden beneath the layers of dye.
The moment he saw it, he stopped in his tracks. His golden eyes widened, and for the first time since she had met him, she saw something like genuine shock flicker across his face.
"All this is just hair dye?" His voice was low, tinged with disbelief. He stepped closer, his gaze sharp as he reached out to her. His fingers brushed through her hair, confirming what she had just revealed.
Leila held her breath as his touch lingered. She could feel the weight of his gaze, his scrutiny, but she didn't dare move.
"I am one of those creatures the animals told you about," she continued, her voice more steady now, but her heart still racing. "Even though my blood is mixed, I am a direct descendant of the Norae people."
His expression shifted, a flicker of realization, and then his hands moved as if he couldn't help himself—he reached out, grasping her hair and checking it for authenticity. She felt the heat of his touch, but she remained still, terrified that a single wrong movement could end her life.
After a tense moment, he pulled back, his face unreadable. "So you think you can break my curse?" His voice was quieter now, almost as if he was waiting for an answer that could shatter everything.
Leila's breath hitched, but she stood her ground, despite the fear that gnawed at her insides. "Yes, I can," she said, more confidently than she felt. She had no idea how, no real plan to help him—if anything, she was just grasping at straws. But she had to say it, had to give him hope, or else she wouldn't survive.
Before she could speak further, he cocked his head, his golden eyes piercing her. "The animals said consuming flesh like yours could break any curse," he murmured, his tone dark and contemplative. "If I kill you right now, what do you think will happen?"
His hands outstretched, showing off his claws—razor-sharp and deadly.
Leila's body trembled as his grip tightened around her neck, the air in her lungs growing thinner with every passing second. She fought for consciousness, her mind clouded by the pressure, but she forced herself to speak, knowing this was the only chance she had.
"I promise you," she choked out, "even if you kill me right now and consume every piece of flesh, down to the bones, it will not break your curse completely."
He paused, his grip not loosening, but his attention clearly caught.
"The enchantment is a very powerful one," she continued, her voice strained. "It was cast by a skilled shaman. The most it would do for you is turn you human for three days. That's all."
His eyes glinted with suspicion, yet the question lingered in the air. "How can you be so sure? I haven't even tried yet."
"Please don't kill me," Leila begged again, the tears streaming down her face. "I can help you break your curse completely, just… please… don't kill me."
There was a long, tense silence, but his voice, when it came, was different. It was lower, more contemplative—like a predator toying with its prey, but also something else, something more dangerous.
"You are not the first human I have trusted," he murmured, his voice a growl that vibrated through her very bones. "But I am willing to try again."
The words hit her like a wave, but before she could react, he continued.
"The one who put this spell on me," his gaze darkened with malice, "I need you to find them for me. Can you do that?"
His eyes bore into her, filled with contempt and anger, and yet she saw something else there—something that lingered just beneath the surface. This man, or this creature, wasn't simply looking for a way to break free from his curse. He was seeking something more—revenge, perhaps, or retribution.
Leila nodded quickly, the hope flashing in her eyes as she realized he might give her a chance to survive.
"I will find them," she promised, her voice filled with determination. She saw the flicker of uncertainty in his golden eyes, and his grip slackened ever so slightly. It was enough.
But his next question sent a chill down her spine.
"How do I trust you then?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
Leila froze. She had no answer—nothing that could convince him fully. The fear began to creep back into her chest, but she pushed it down. She had to think. She had to act.
"You must have heard," he continued, his tone dripping with bitterness, "how the ferocious beast can't leave the Forbidden Forest."
Deep down, she knew she had just told him exactly what he wanted to hear—hoping that the sweet lies she spun would let her escape. She had no intention of ever returning to the Forbidden Forest.
"I will come and find you," she repeated, her voice trembling slightly, trying to sound more confident than she felt.
His dark gaze, full of contempt and menace, bore into her, and for a moment, she thought he might let her go. But then he spoke again, and his words chilled her to the bone.
"I will trust you," he said, though his tone was anything but reassuring. "But believe me, you don't want to make an enemy out of me. I am not merciful when someone lies to me and deceives me. You might think I can't find you, but I assure you, it will be as easy as tearing apart your soul."
Leila's heart dropped into her stomach. She had already made a promise, and yet, she felt that she was already being pulled deeper into his web of cruelty. Her mind raced—there was no way she could escape, no way she could outrun a creature like him.
"...And if I find you, I'm going to kill you in the most gruesome way possible. Not just you, but whoever is with you as well." His voice was low, and menacing, and it sent a wave of ice through her veins. She could feel his large, rough hands grip her face, turning her head to expose the delicate skin of her neck.
Leila froze. Fear shot through her like a lightning bolt. She had no way of knowing what he would do next—she had already promised not to run, to do whatever it took to survive. But what if she had already made the wrong choice?
Before she could react, his touch became more deliberate.
And then the pain came.
Excruciating, searing pain shot up from behind her ears. A shriek tore from her throat, her body arching in an instinctive response to escape the unbearable agony. Her hands clawed at him, at his rough hands, but he was too strong—his grip unyielding. She could feel him pulling her closer, the heat of his body pressing against hers, and then she felt the sharpness of his fangs sinking into her neck.