The sound of my name on the creature's lips froze whatever breath I had managed to pull back into my lungs.
For a moment I simply stared at him, my mind refusing to accept what I had just heard. The forest had been silent for so long that even the smallest sound felt unnatural, yet his voice had cut through the stillness with an eerie calm, deep and rough like stones grinding beneath dark water.
Claris.
He had said it as if the name belonged in his mouth.
My fingers curled into the damp leaves beneath me, grounding myself in the cold earth as my thoughts scrambled for some explanation that would make sense of what was happening.
Monsters were not supposed to know names.
The creature stood motionless a few steps away, his tall shadow stretching across the forest floor until it nearly touched my feet. Up close, I could see details that had been hidden by distance before — the sharp ridges along his horns, the dark armor of scales that seemed to form naturally across parts of his body, and the faint glow lingering in his golden eyes like dying fire.
Those eyes had not moved from my face.
"How do you know my name?" I asked before I could stop myself.
My voice sounded smaller than I wanted it to, barely stronger than a whisper that disappeared among the trees.
The monster did not answer immediately.
Instead he watched me with the same unsettling focus, his gaze traveling slowly over my face as if memorizing every feature, every flicker of fear that crossed my expression.
It was not the way a predator watched prey.
It was worse.
It was the way someone studied something they did not understand.
"You smell of the village," he finally said.
His voice was quieter this time, though it still carried easily through the still air between us.
"And the village speaks your name often."
A chill ran through me.
That meant he had been close enough to hear us.
Close enough to listen.
"How long have you been watching?" I asked.
Again, silence.
The monster — Jace, though I did not know that name yet — slowly straightened, his towering form rising even higher as he stepped closer.
Instinct screamed at me to crawl back, to put distance between us before those massive claws could reach me, but something strange held me in place.
Fear was still there, sharp and alive inside my chest, yet curiosity tangled with it in a way I could not explain.
The stories had painted the monster as a mindless beast.
But the creature standing before me was clearly something else.
Something thinking.
Something aware.
"You should not be here," he said.
The words were not shouted or growled. They were spoken in a tone so calm that it almost felt like a warning rather than a threat.
"This forest is not meant for humans."
"I noticed," I replied weakly.
His eyes flickered slightly at that, the smallest reaction that suggested my answer had surprised him.
The moment stretched again, heavy with quiet tension.
I slowly pushed myself up from the ground, brushing leaves from my skirt while keeping my gaze locked on the creature in front of me.
Standing made the difference between us even more obvious.
He was enormous.
Even with the distance between us, his presence filled the small clearing like a living shadow. The dark shapes around his shoulders shifted slightly with every movement, almost like smoke drifting around him.
And yet he still had not attacked.
"Are you going to kill me?" I asked.
The question slipped out before I could reconsider it.
For a long moment he simply stared at me.
Then something strange happened.
The monster frowned.
It was subtle, barely noticeable beneath the sharp lines of his face, yet the expression looked almost… confused.
"If I wanted to kill you," he said slowly, "you would already be dead."
That answer did nothing to calm the racing of my heart.
I swallowed, trying to ignore the way his gaze seemed to sharpen slightly as he watched the nervous movement of my throat.
"Then why haven't you?" I asked.
Another silence.
The forest creaked softly around us as a distant branch shifted somewhere among the trees, yet neither of us looked away.
Finally, the creature spoke again.
"I do not know."
The honesty in his voice startled me.
It was not the answer I had expected.
"You don't know?" I repeated.
"No."
His golden eyes narrowed slightly, as if the question irritated him.
"Humans do not usually enter my forest."
"And the ones who do?" I asked quietly.
"They die."
The words were spoken without hesitation, without regret.
A cold shiver slid down my spine.
For the first time since I had fallen in the clearing, my body remembered how to move backward. I took a careful step away from him, the dry leaves crunching softly beneath my boots.
His gaze dropped briefly to the sound.
Then it returned to my face.
"You are afraid," he said.
"That seems reasonable."
The corner of his mouth twitched slightly again, though I could not tell whether it was amusement or annoyance.
"You should leave," he said after a moment.
Relief washed through me so suddenly that I nearly collapsed again.
Leave.
He was letting me leave.
I nodded quickly, already beginning to turn in the direction I thought would lead back toward the edge of the forest.
But before I could take more than two steps, his voice stopped me.
"Claris."
My body stiffened instantly.
Slowly, I looked back.
The monster had not moved from where he stood, yet the weight of his gaze felt heavier now, almost thoughtful.
"If you return here again," he said quietly, "I may not let you leave."
The words should have terrified me.
They should have sent me running blindly through the trees until I reached the safety of the village.
Instead, something strange stirred inside my chest.
Something dangerous.
Because the way he had said those words did not sound like a threat.
It sounded like a promise.
I forced myself to turn away before I could question that thought any further, my legs finally obeying as I hurried through the forest in the direction I hoped would lead home.
Branches scraped against my arms as I pushed forward, the fading light between the trees making the shadows stretch longer with every passing moment.
Yet even as the forest slowly began to thin, I could still feel something behind me.
Watching.
Not hunting.
Watching.
And though I told myself it was only fear playing tricks on my mind, a small voice deep inside me whispered a truth I did not want to accept.
The monster in the forest had let me go.
But somehow, I had the strange feeling that he had not truly finished with me yet.