The greenery didn't part.
It ruptured.
Branches snapped like bones. Leaves tore free in a choking wave, and something heavy crashed into the clearing with a reckless confidence that made my stomach drop.
An elk.
It was enormous. Horse-sized, easily, with a rack wide enough to roof a winter hut. Gold fur gleamed along its flanks, combed and polished, but the shine only made the wrongness stand out more. It moved on two legs with a prancing, off-balance slink, hooves flexing where hands should have been.
Its nose was too wet, too soft, nostrils flaring like a prey animal's. Its eyes showed too much white.
It had worn the transformation poorly.
I stared before I could stop myself. The elk caught it and jutted its chin, cloven lips slick with spit.
It slammed down onto its forelegs and screamed.
"Mine!" The sound was low and broken and human in the worst way. "Her scent is mine now. Stand aside, you dull-rooted vulture!"
Alo straightened.
His wings were still unfurled, heat lifting from them in lazy waves, and he didn't flinch when the elk's gaze dragged over him. If I hadn't just been pressed against Alo hadn't felt that fragile hush after violence I might have believed there was a chance he'd hesitate.
But men like him didn't hesitate. They waited.
The elk pivoted, antlers flashing in the last blue light, and lowered its head in a threat so exaggerated it felt ceremonial. Panic curdled in my chest. I pressed my face against Alo's hip, breath sour and shallow.
The system shrieked inside my skull, loud enough to taste.
[New Candidate Detected: Elk.]
[Probability of violent outcome: 97%.]
I didn't need it.
Alo spread his wings just enough to erase me from view.
When he spoke, his voice was wrong. Gone was the bramble-thick forest cadence. This was clipped. Flat. Bored.
"Did your father-beast not teach you," he said mildly, "never to interrupt while a couple's still panting?"
The elk hissed and spat. The loogie struck the dirt inches from Alo's bare foot.
My heart slammed so hard it hurt.
The fight didn't start.
It ended.
The elk reared, hooves slashing down. Alo stepped aside with excruciating slowness, like he was letting the moment stretch just to prove he could. He caught the elk by the throat with one hand.
He didn't squeeze.
The elk thrashed, panicked now, momentum turning stupid in its limbs. Alo let it waste its strength.
When the antlers came up again, Alo snapped both wrists forward and drove his palm up into the hollow where bone met skull.
The sound was wet.
Not a crack.
The rack shuddered and went slack, antlers splaying outward like snapped branches.
Blood ran. Alo held him there anyway.
The two of them locked together ancient hunger and fresh stupidity while I struggled to breathe behind him. Alo didn't look at the elk when he spoke.
He looked at me. "We do this for you?" he asked calmly.
I knew what he was asking.
"Please," I whispered. "Don't kill him."
Alo shrugged.
Then he slammed the elk's head into a cedar trunk.
Once. The body twitched.
Twice. It collapsed in a boneless heap. Alo waited, wings still raised.
The elk coughed wetly. Its legs folded. It staggered upright, drool and blood dripping from its mouth. It looked at the dirt. Then Alo. Then me.
Hatred burned there. And beneath it something brittle.
Shame.
I'd never seen that in a face like his.
He hissed again, weaker now, and backed into the trees. The jungle swallowed him whole. Silence pressed in, thick enough to choke on.
Alo exhaled.
The violence drained from him all at once, leaving a heavy stillness behind. He glanced at his palm, wiped blood into the grass, and crouched so I could see his face again.
"He'll come back," I said, barely a breath.
"Let him," Alo replied, smiling small, crooked, merciless. "Elk never learn the first time."
My hands found his wings, smoothing feathers that still trembled beneath my touch. "You're bleeding."
He shook his head. "Not mine."
Then his fingers were on my face, searching, intent.
"You smell of mine," he said. Not asking.
I swallowed. Let my voice shake. "I'm sorry. I don't want to make trouble."
His arms closed around me, hard and unyielding.
"No trouble," he murmured against my hair. "You make quiet in my head."
Somewhere out there, the elk would warn others. More would come. Stronger. Smarter. Inside Alo's arms, I tucked the fear away and stayed very still.
Because whatever hunted me next, Would have to go through him.
Alo felt it the moment they moved again. Eyes following. Breath held too long. The quiet wasn't peace. It was calculation.
He straightened as he walked, posture sharpening, fire riding higher along his shoulders. Anyone watching from the undergrowth would see the warning immediately: this was not a beast to test today.
In his arms, Luna felt the change before she saw it.
His steps grew heavier. His heat turned outward, a deliberate pressure that bent leaves and made insects scatter. When a shadow shifted too close, Alo's gaze snapped toward it, pupils flaring bright enough to set bark smoking.
The jungle stilled.
He didn't chase.
Mine was not a word he spoke. It was a fact he carried.
Inside her head, a familiar voice cleared its throat.
THE ACADEMY AWARD GOES TO—
Sprout, Luna thought tiredly, do not start.
There was a wounded pause.
FIRST OF ALL.
RUDE.
She huffed softly, tucking her face closer to Alo's chest as he navigated a fallen log without breaking stride. Second of all, I'm busy.
WITH WHAT.
Being carried by a very large, very angry bull. Alo glanced down at her, brow creasing. "Are you unwell."
"No," she said quickly. "Just… thinking."
He accepted that, though his grip tightened a fraction, one arm firm beneath her knees, the other braced around her back like a living wall.
BACK TO THE AWARD, Sprout continued, clearly sulking.
BEST PERFORMANCE IN A 'LOST, SHY, AND EXTREMELY TAKEN' ROLE GOES TO—
Sprout.
LUNA.
She smiled despite herself. You're impossible.
YOU NAMED ME.
THIS IS ON YOU.
Alo stopped briefly at a rise, scanning the tree line. His expression was all sharp edges and fire. Anyone looking now would think twice. Three times.
The moment he moved again, ducking beneath a low branch, his head dipped instinctively toward hers, shielding her face from leaves.
Soft.
She noticed.
So did Sprout.
NOTE:
PUBLIC MODE: TERRIFYING.
PRIVATE MODE: ACCEPTABLE.
Luna bit her lip to keep from laughing.
They traveled like that until the sun crept higher and the air thickened with heat. At some point, Alo shifted without warning, lowering himself just enough for her to slide astride his back.
"Hold," he said simply.
She did.
Her hands found his shoulders. Her legs curved instinctively around his sides. It felt… right. Like her body already understood the shape of him.
Alo moved differently with her there. Longer strides. Controlled power. He carried her for hours without slowing, muscles rolling beneath her in a steady rhythm that lulled her into a drowsy half-awareness.
OBSERVATION, Sprout said lightly.
THIS IS EFFECTIVE PAIRING.
You're not allowed to comment on that.
NOTED. COMMENTING ANYWAY.
By the time dusk bled purple into the canopy, Alo slowed. He lowered her carefully beside a stream and straightened, fire dimming as his focus shifted.
"Stay," he said.
She nodded immediately. "I will."
He vanished into the trees without another word.
Luna sat on a warm stone, hugging her knees, listening to the jungle breathe. When Alo returned, he did so silently, a large bundle slung over one shoulder. Whatever he'd caught was heavy and fresh.
She wrinkled her nose. "We're… not eating it like that."
Alo blinked. "Like what."
"Raw."
He considered. "It is meat."
"Yes," she said patiently. "But it could be better."
She showed him.
How to cut. How to clean. How to wait.
She crushed herbs between her fingers, letting him smell them one by one. Salt. Smoke-leaf. Ground seed she'd traded for days ago and tucked into her pocket like treasure.
He watched closely. Listened.
When she sprinkled spice over the meat and set it near the fire, Alo frowned. "You're wasting it."
"Trust me."
He did.
When he tasted it, his eyes widened just slightly. Not enough that anyone else would notice.
But she did.
"…That is," he said slowly, "unfair." She grinned. "Welcome to cooking."
Sprout chimed, delighted.
NEW SKILL UNLOCKED:
BULL-PHOENIX: DOMESTICATED (TEMPORARILY).
Alo snorted, a sound halfway to a laugh