Elara woke up expecting the cold embrace of the afterlife.
Instead, she felt fur.
Thick, impossibly soft fur pressed against her cheek. It smelled like woodsmoke and ozone. She burrowed deeper into it, instinctively seeking the heat, until her hand brushed against something hard and smooth beneath the softness.
She opened her eyes.
She was gripping a rib bone. A rib bone the size of a carriage wheel.
Elara gasped, scrambling backward. She wasn't in heaven. She was in a nest.
The space was vast, a cathedral of natural obsidian formed inside a mountain. The "nest" she had been sleeping in was a chaotic, circular mound of treasures: furs stolen from caravans, mounds of gold coins that dug into her back, and the polished, ancient bones of massive beasts that had likely been eaten centuries ago.
I am the dessert, she thought, her heart hammering against her ribs. He's saving me for later.
A sound echoed from the entrance of the cavern, the scraping of something heavy against stone.
Skritch. Skritch. Boom.
The Void King emerged from the shadows.
In the dim light of the glowing moss on the ceiling, he was even more terrifying than he had been in the woods. He moved on all fours, his body a sleek, armored engine of destruction. Shadows clung to him like a cloak, trailing behind his massive tail.
Elara pressed her back against the wall of the nest, pulling a moth-eaten bear pelt over her chest as a shield. "Please," she squeaked.
The monster paused. His head, crowned with jagged obsidian horns, swung low. Those electric blue eyes locked onto her.
He made a chuffing sound, a vibration that rattled the gold coins beneath her.
Then, he moved.
He didn't lunge. He trotted. There was a strange, frantic energy to his movement. He closed the distance in two strides and loomed over the nest.
Elara squeezed her eyes shut. This is it.
Thud.
Something wet and heavy landed in her lap.
Elara flinched, opening one eye.
Lying on her legs, staring up at her with glazed, dead eyes, was the severed head of a Dire Wolf. Blood was still dripping from the ragged tear where its neck used to be. It was massive, grotesque, and steaming in the cool air.
Elara stared at it. She stared at the monster.
The Void King sat back on his haunches, his tail swishing expectantly behind him. He nudged the wolf head with his snout, pushing it closer to her chin.
"Eat," the voice ground inside her head. It wasn't a command; it was an encouragement. "Fresh."
Elara's stomach lurched. The metallic smell of blood hit her nose, and her vision swam.
"I... I can't," she choked out, shoving the wolf head away. It rolled down the side of the nest, leaving a streak of red on the furs.
The Void King froze.
He looked at the rejected head. He looked back at Elara. His ears—spiked fins along the side of his skull—flattened against his head.
He let out a low, whining sound. It was the sound a dog makes when it accidentally breaks a toy.
"Broken?" the voice echoed, sounding genuinely distressed. "Small thing... broken?"
He leaned closer, sniffing her aggressively. He inhaled so hard Elara was lifted slightly off the ground. He was checking for rot. He was checking why she wasn't functioning.
"I'm not broken!" Elara cried, terrified by his proximity. "I'm just not... I don't eat raw heads!"
The monster pulled back, confusion radiating from him. He paced a tight circle around the nest, his claws clicking anxiously. He clearly didn't understand Common Tongue perfectly, but he understood rejection.
He looked at the wolf head. Maybe it wasn't fresh enough?
With a snort of frustration, he swiped the wolf head with a claw, vaporizing it into black mist instantly.
Elara held her breath. Now he eats me.
But he didn't. He turned abruptly and bounded out of the cavern, disappearing into the dark tunnels.
Elara was left alone in the silence. Did I just insult a god?
She barely had time to calm her racing heart before the scraping sound returned. He was back. And he was moving faster this time.
He skidded to a halt in front of the nest. He looked proud.
Slowly, with surprising delicacy, he extended one massive, scaled hand. He uncurled his fist.
sitting in the center of his palm, dwarfed by his deadly claws, was a flower.
It was beautiful—a violet blossom that pulsed with a soft, inner light. But Elara recognized it from the village legends. It was a Void Orchid.
One touch causes paralysis. Ingestion causes instant death.
The Monster nudged his hand forward. He looked at her with wide, expectant eyes. He had realized she didn't like meat, so he had brought her a plant. He was trying to feed her a salad. A salad that would kill her in seconds.
"Good?" he asked, the voice in her head tinged with hope.
Elara looked at the poison flower. She looked at the monster who could crush her like a grape but was currently looking at her like a worried puppy.
He wasn't trying to torture her.
He was trying to take care of her. He just had absolutely no idea how humans worked.
Elara swallowed hard. She carefully reached out, avoiding the flower, and patted the tip of his giant, razor-sharp claw.
"Not... not that either," she whispered, her voice shaking.
The Void King's shoulders slumped. He dropped the flower and let out a long, defeated sigh that smelled of smoke. He rested his chin on the edge of the nest, staring at her.
He didn't know what to do. And terrifyingly, Elara realized, that meant she was going to have to teach him.