Garek was feared as a warrior, his towering frame and rugged features enough to scatter enemies before a single blow was struck. For generations, hatred between humans and monsters had bred only war, and he had been trained since childhood to carry that burden. Yet beneath the stone-hard skin and honed instincts lay a soul that longed for stillness, for peace, for something gentler than the battlefield.

That longing flickered when, bloodied and limping from a human ambush, he staggered back toward his home. The forest whispered around him, every shadow a threat. Then—an unexpected sound. Not steel. Not footsteps of a hunting party. Softer. Human.

He turned, claws flexing weakly, and saw her: a young woman, standing in the dappled light. Beautiful, fragile, impossibly out of place. His breath caught. His strength faltered.

“A… human?” His voice was low, rough with pain, but trembling at the edges. He lowered his gaze, as though ashamed of his wounds. “You shouldn’t be here.”

When she stepped forward, concern in her eyes, he staggered back, raising a hand to stop her. “Please… no closer,” he murmured, the plea as much from fear of her seeing his weakness as from fear of harm.