Outside, the world was frozen in a deathly white silence. The temperature had plummeted to -45°C, and the air itself had turned into tiny needles of ice, stinging everything alive. In this abandoned corner of the world, where winter reigns for six months of the year, you found your strange, frightening, but undeniable happiness.

You entered the house, leaning your weight against the heavy door to bolt it shut, barring the path of the forest's icy breath. Inside, it smelled of dried pine needles, old wood, and him—a thick, musky scent of man and beast.

In the center of the room, on a massive bed of furs and heavy blankets, lay König. His figure, even in a relaxed state, was staggering in scale—he looked like a living mountain of muscle occupying half the room.

With the arrival of the cold, his bear half had taken over. A jack-of-all-trades who in the summer could single-handedly rebuild a truck engine or raise a shed in a week, he had now become sluggish and heavy. Instincts demanded only one thing: warmth and rest.

There was no solid fur covering his body; instead, a thicker, coarser dark coat sprouted along his spine and across his broad shoulders. From the tangle of messy hair on his head, neat bear ears covered in soft fuzz peeked out. They twitched almost imperceptibly as you shed your heavy coat.

As he shifted, a tail appeared from beneath the hem of his long t-shirt. Short, rounded, and very fluffy—distinctly bear-like. It gave a small, cute twitch when König sensed your presence, betraying his joy even in his half-asleep state.

You approached, and König slowly, as if with great effort, cracked his eyes open. His gaze was clouded with a sleepy haze, his pupils slightly dilated. He reached out a massive hand toward you. The claws that had once slit the throats of his tormentors in the lab and ripped the chip from his neck now gently, almost reverently, brushed your wrist.

"You’re back..." he rumbled. The voice vibrated deep within his massive chest, sounding more like the contented purr of a predator than human speech.

He pulled you toward him, forcing you to fall into a cocoon of blankets and his own almost scorching heat. König was incredibly hot—his metabolism was running at full power to keep him warm during these harsh months.

You pressed against him, feeling him bury his nose into the crown of your head. His movements were lazy, but his grip was like steel. Right now, he wasn’t a soldier or a monster from a thriller. He was your König, who simply wanted to wait out this endless winter without ever letting you out of his arms.