The world was still the beast world, the same lion tribe, but something felt different in the air, and it wasn't pleasant.
A chill, dull atmosphere crept over his skin. Shaking off the feeling, he continued on until he reached the riverbank, where half the tribe was bathing, laughing, and chatting. Everything seemed perfectly normal, and Travis would have sworn nothing was amiss. But the second the thought crossed his mind, the atmosphere shattered.
Storms began to gather over the river. As shocking as that was, nothing prepared Travis for the current bubbling violently in the stream. Just when he thought it couldn't get worse, the fury tripled. A whirlwind began to swirl above the water.
Terrified, he ran toward them, screaming. "Run, you morons, or you'll all perish!"
They didn't move. Instead, they were fascinated, enticed by the terrifying view.
Why aren't they listening? He was supposed to warn them, wasn't he? As he splashed into the water, lunging to grab someone, a man passed right through him. Travis flinched back, the horrible logic dawning on him.
No one could see him.
This was terrible. Then why was he here? He could recognize some of these faces, people from the tribe, and in this moment, they were about to meet their deaths.
"Move! I know you can't hear me, but that is not a fascination—it's a death sentence! Run!" Of course, he was speaking to beastmen. They wouldn't understand the gravity until it was too late.
A torrent struck.
A massive bubble rose from the river's center. Before Travis could process it, screams erupted as the water churned a bloody red. Some tried to run, but no one could escape. Over fifty people were swallowed as the water began to boil, the skin of the unfortunate ones shredding and melting from their bones.
A thick, hot mist filled the air, and in one shocked, bewildered moment, everything fell grim and quiet. The scene vanished. When Travis looked again, the trees were gone, replaced by a river of molten lava and a sea of fire consuming everything in its path.
As horrifying as it was, he heaved a sigh of relief that Derek and the twins weren't among the dead. But that relief was dashed as he took a few steps and saw Derek, crying like a deranged man, dragging at his mane as he carried two lifeless figures.
To his horror, they were the cubs—Tilda and Henry. A panic attack seized him, and the world went black.
He awoke to find himself lying on a shitty bamboo mat, his back aching terribly from the discomfort. The twins were looking down at him, their faces etched with worry. Derek was there, too.
"You collapsed, Travis," Derek said, his voice strangely soothing. "I was worried. I was supposed to go to the imperial grounds for an important announcement, but I had to cancel because of this."
The vision had scared the shit out of him. He felt certain it was a preview of a future disaster, and the dread on their behalf was paralyzing. Their population was already dwindling; a catastrophe like that would push them to extinction, just like his world.
He couldn't stomach the feeling. He rushed to a corner and retched, his head burning and his body drained of all energy.
"Are you okay? This is why I stayed behind. I don't trust the healer to take care of you. Have you eaten?" Derek asked.
Travis shook his head.
The cubs cried out in unison. "We're hungry too, Papa!"
Derek smiled and excused himself. As he left, a female tribeswoman approached Travis, holding a large leaf tied with several ropes. She dropped it before him, bowing slowly—a new form of respect since Derek had declared him his 'Queen,' a title Travis was merely tolerating for now.
"What the hell is that?" From a distance, it looked like a human head, but that was impossible.
"It's from outside," the female said. "A male said I should tell you it's a gift from his heart." Without another word, she left.
A gift from his heart? Impatient, he unwrapped the leaf. Inside was an outfit. Not the typical loincloth of the lion people, but a crop-top shirt and slightly baggy trousers. The fabric was soft and delicate to the touch, yet felt surprisingly tough.
The producer had taste. But who was it, and how did they know his measurements? He knew accepting gifts from strangers was bad, but he desperately needed a change of clothes. Dumping his hesitation, he rushed to change.
The green garment, adorned with patterns that resembled scales, fit perfectly. He was admiring it when a loud growl and murmuring from outside grabbed his attention. He dashed out to see Derek dragging a huge, massive deer toward the hut.
"An offering for you, my Queen!" Derek bowed, still dragging the deer. He hadn't yet noticed the change in Travis's scent or demeanor—until he looked up. His face turned chalk white.
The scent was all over him, intense and foreign.
"Who gave you this?" Derek's voice was a low growl. "Return it this moment. I want it gone, or I will track the person down and kill them."
Travis's eyes widened. "It's nothing, just a harmless gift."
Derek facepalmed. "It's from that prick, the snake feral! With this gift, you have declared yourself as his mate! He has marked you with his scent!"
Travis's world spun. A snake? An anaconda had marked him? No wonder the patterns looked like scales. This was bad. He couldn't be mated to a fucking snake.
"Okay, okay, I'll return it! There's really nothing to fret about," he assured.
But it was too late. Derek let out a deafening roar. "I will kill him! He doesn't get to mark my mate before me! Never!"
Derek lunged at Travis and began to lick him furiously with his rough tongue, trying to scrub the foreign scent away.
Travis turned rigid, his senses screaming in protest. "Ewww! No, no, no! That's gross!" he cried, but it was no use. Derek wasn't taking any excuses.