HUFFF. HUFFFF.
I can feel its breath on my neck... but there's no pain.
For a moment, I think I've already died.
When I force my eyes open—
A arm is inside the bear's mouth.
But the arm… is covered in metal.
DRIP. DRIP. DRIP.
Blood leaks down from the metal piece wedged between the bear's teeth. It's wide enough to hold the jaw open—but the teeth are inside the metal. The gap where the metal doesn't cover slices into flesh, drawing even more blood alongside the parts that aren't covered.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
I look up.
Kaelith.
The arm is his.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
With a grunt, he twists his arm—and the bear jerks, trapped. Its teeth can't pull free.
It thrashes, growling, confused.
Then its paw swings—a massive blur of fur and claws.
Kaelith stops it with his free hand.
And then I see it.
A aura.
Cold. Heavy. Murderous.
It rolls off him like smoke, and even the air seems to flinch.
The bear senses it too. It panics, roaring and pulling, but the metal won't let go.
Kaelith drags the beast away from me—snow scattering under his boots.
His free hand touches one of the metal bands on his arm.
No flash. No sound.
The metal just shifts.
A mace now rests in his hand.
He lifts the bear—and SMACK!
The blow echoes through the forest.
The snow bursts into the air from the impact.
The bear lets out a scream that doesn't sound real.
SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.
Each hit lands harder than the last.
I can hear bones crack, splinter, shatter.
It's not a fight anymore—it's punishment.
No human should move like this. No human should have this power.
After what feels like forever, the bear collapses.
Its body slumps in the snow—still.
Kaelith lowers his weapon.
He places his hand on the metal still clamped in the bear's mouth.
The metal unfolds, freeing the teeth.
A torrent of blood gushes out.
He grabs the bear by its snout and throws it aside like it weighs nothing.
The corpse hits the snow a few feet away.
Then he turns to me.
The aura is gone.
The man stands there, breathing, silent.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
He takes a step forward.
The snow crunches beneath his boots.
I realize—I'm still on the ground. Frozen. Shaking.
Drip. Crunch. Drip. Crunch.
That's all I can hear until he stops in front of me.
The metal bands are back in place.
He looks straight at my neck.
"You're hurt."
My eyes go wide.
I try to speak, but my throat only trembles.
My hand finds my neck—and I feel it.
A shallow cut. Barely bleeding.
He offers his hand.
I take it.
Neither of us says a word.
I'm not scared.
But I can't describe what I am.
The forest is silent. Not even the wind dares to breathe.
When we step back into the lodge—
"GOOD HEAVENS!"
Mary rushes over to her cabinet, grabbing a handful of bandages and jars.
Kaelith sits me in a chair.
"Are you okay?"
I can't answer. The question that escapes my mouth instead—
"What was that?"
He pauses.
"Not here. Not now. Tonight, I'll explain."
Mary rounds the corner with supplies.
"Her first," Kaelith says.
"Boy, you seem to be in wor—"
"HER FIRST."
The growl that leaves him is inhuman.
Deep. Guttural.
It makes the air vibrate.
Mary freezes. Then nods and starts cleaning my neck in silence.
The cut is small. Barely worth tending.
But I don't argue.
Because this Kaelith…
This man standing before me now—
He's not the one I know.