Evan drifted up through a fog of pain, dragging air into his lungs as if he had nearly drowned. The air wasn't sterile, wasn't the flat, recirculated kind he'd grown up breathing—it was damp, heavy with the scent of moss, mud, and something wild. Under his fingertips, instead of cotton, there was fur. Soft, coarse in places—a pelt, not a blanket.
For a blissful moment, his mind offered up denial. Hospital, maybe? He'd been in labs with animal subjects before; maybe—
And then he heard the slow drip of water, felt the rough stone under his hip, glimpsed the flickering, uneven half-light coming from a cave entrance nearby. The shadows moved, not just with the wind but with the living, breathing pulse of a place that had never seen fluorescent tubes or bustling cities.
It crashed back in a flood: the jungle, the beast, the enormous snake-man who had terrified him—and then saved him.
Evan's first sound was a groan, then a breathless, "Not dead… right? Oh god, am I kidnapped by a snake?"
His voice echoed off stone, bouncing back at him with even less certainty than he felt. He blinked around wildly—walls glistened and pulsed with life, roots dangled near his head, and every so often, the light from the entrance flickered as if something big moved past it.
He half-sat, clutching his side, heart thudding. "Okay. You're fine. Just need to—get out. Figure out where you are. Maybe there's a—"
A noise—a long, dragging hiss—froze the words on his tongue. Something heavy slid over the stone, and the dappled daylight at the entrance was suddenly blocked out by a massive, looming silhouette.
"Stay back! I'm warning you!" Evan scrambled for the nearest rock, his hand trembling.
The figure paused, and from the gloom, a calm—almost bored—voice echoed, "You're loud again."
There he was: the man-beast. Now, somehow even stranger, as if he'd only half-converted back to human. His face was sharply angled, eyes emerald and cold, hair falling to the small of his back. But below the waist, the thick, muscular body segued not into legs—but an immense, scaled tail, gleaming with iridescent green and silver in the dimness.
Evan's mouth went dry. "You—you're— What are you? Where's my stuff? Where am I?"
Silas frowned. "You fainted. I carried you here , this is a temporary shelter. Do females always shout at their saviors?"
Evan blinked. "Females—? So you know what I am?"
"I said you speak strangely," Silas replied, studying him in that clinical, reptilian way that made Evan's skin crawl. "I didn't say I understand."
"Great," Evan muttered, lowering the rock just a little. "That makes two of us."
Silas ignored the sarcasm, gliding deeper into the cave. The lower half of him was a marvel of evolutionary terror—coiling, rippling, powerful. He set down a small bundle: slices of dark, dried meat and a handful of odd, swollen purple fruits.
"Eat. You need strength."
Evan eyed the food with deep suspicion. "Is this…poison?"
"If I wanted you dead," Silas pointed out, "I'd have left you for the forest."
Okay, maybe that was fair. But paranoia had kept Evan alive this long—he wasn't switching off now. "You still haven't told me where this is."
"This territory belongs to my snake clan," Silas said. His tone changed subtly—a low authority, like a man used to being obeyed. "The jungle does not forgive the unclaimed. You stay near me, or you die."
Evan snorted, feigning bravado. "That's comforting."
"It's the truth. When night falls, things worse than wolves hunt here."
Evan shivered. Despite his mounting panic, hunger gnawed at him; his stomach rumbled, traitorous. Fine. He took a tentative bite of meat. Smoky, a little chewy, gamey—like beef jerky made by cavemen, he supposed.
He tried the fruit, glancing at Silas, half-expecting a trick. But it was tart and surprisingly sweet, filling his mouth with tang. He let out a breath. "Okay. Not awful."
Silas watched him, unreadable. They sat in silence, with only the ambient sounds of distant wildlife and water drops marking time.
Evan glanced at him while eating and asked "What's your name? Mine is Evan"
"Silas"
A chill crawled up Evan's spine by the voice. His stomach chose that moment to twist hungrily. He picked a strip of meat and nibbled.
Okay, not terrible…kind of like overly rustic jerky.
As they sat in tense silence, Evan noticed something odd."Why do you keep calling me… 'she'?"
The man blinked."You smell like a female."
Evan choked."I am MALE."
A frown."Male? Your scent says otherwise."
Evan's mouth dropped open."Excuse me?! What is wrong with you people?"
Silas's tone never shifted.
"Females are rare among beastmen. The unclaimed are precious. And dangerous."
Evan frowned.
"So—people would kidnap me?"The man's emerald eyes narrowed.
"Yes. If they thought you could bear offspring, many would fight for you."
Silence fell, heavy.
Evan's brain blue-screened.
"…Fan-tastic. Prehistoric kidnap-marriage world. Great."
"Prehistoric?"
"Never mind."
Eventually, exhaustion overwhelmed suspicion. Evan ate more, side-eyeing the beastman.
Evan murmured under his breath "I miss my lab"
Silas while observing him: "You said…'lab'? Is that your clan's name?"
Evan almost laughed. "No, it's—never mind. Science stuff. Experiments."
Silas rolled the foreign word around his mouth. "Sai-ence."
Evan found himself smiling, despite the unease. "Close enough."
A beat passed, and suddenly the giant's features softened, just a touch. "You should rest. The fever has faded, but your body is still weak."
Evan didn't want to admit the exhaustion dragging him down, so he covered his eyes with a hand. "I'm not weak," he mumbled.
"Then walk out there alone tonight."
A long, stubborn silence. Evan laid back on the furs, heat prickling his face. "…I'll just nap here. For safety reasons, obviously."
Silas's mouth twitched in what might, in better light, have been a faint smile.
Later, as dusk fell and the weight of the day pressed on Evan's bones, he watched Silas preparing for night. The orc checked the cave's perimeter—his tail carving silent paths through the leaf litter—then settled just inside the entrance, all vigilance and quiet strength.
Evan's mind spun. "I need to figure out a way out," he told himself, quiet enough that Silas wouldn't hear. "There's got to be civilization around here. Roads. Or maybe…I dunno, orc WiFi. Ahhh ... I am going mad."
But when he looked at Silas, the strange warrior was framed by silver-blue moonlight, head bowed, utterly still. Oddly gentle for a monster.
"Silas," he mumbled, his voice softer now, "why… why did you help me? You could've just left me there."
Silas didn't answer right away. The firelight flickered across his scales as he sat still, thinking. When he finally spoke, his voice was low.
"I found you where no one should have lived. Your scent was strange—wrong, but… not dangerous. You were small. Fragile. It felt wrong to leave you."
Evan frowned faintly. "So you just… decided to keep me?"
Silas's tail flicked once, and he looked away. "Our clans have few mates. Those who survive the crossing of seasons are precious. I thought… perhaps you were sent."
"Sent? By who?"
Silas's eyes glinted in the dim light. "The spirits of the ancestors. They sometimes grant a mate from beyond."
Evan's heart stuttered. "You think I'm your mate?"
Silas tilted his head, completely calm. "Perhaps. You smell like one."
Evan's face burned. "You—what—! You can't just say things like that!"
"Why not? It is true."
"Because that's not—ugh! You don't just tell someone they smell like your mate!"
Silas blinked, unbothered. "Then I will say it quieter."
Evan felt a pang—confusion, maybe. Or curiosity. Somewhere in the tangle of adrenaline, a tiny voice whispered that this—whatever it was—didn't seem as dangerous up close. Was it just gratitude for being spared? Or something more, some primal need tucked away beneath human logic?
He forced the thought away. "Focus, Evan," he muttered. "This is not the time for Stockholm Syndrome."
He stretched out on his side, the furs surprisingly soft beneath him, the air filled with the scent of wet leaves and woodsmoke. Determination simmered inside him, flickering along with the lantern's weak flame.
Outside, the jungle howled—a long, low cry, answered by others in the dark.
He stared at the moonlit entrance, heart pounding.
"I'll figure this out," he whispered. "But first… I need to survive the night."
Behind him, Silas's coils shifted, ever-watchful. In the wild night, the distance between captor and captive grew just a bit smaller—carried on the hush of rain, the safety of stone walls, and the slow and secret birth of trust.