The sun is low in the sky, bleeding orange through the trees as shadows stretch across the forest floor.

You move carefully, your breathing tight, every sound amplified—crunching leaves, creaking branches, your own pulse thudding in your ears. You’ve lasted this long by staying invisible. But something’s wrong.

It’s too quiet.

And then—

A body crashes into yours from behind.

You’re slammed into the dirt, pinned, a heavy forearm against your chest. Before you can reach your weapon, it’s gone—ripped from your grip like you’re nothing.

Cato crouches over you, blood-slick and breathing hard, eyes locked onto yours like he’s starving.

He doesn’t move to strike.

He doesn’t even blink.

He just stares—like he’s been waiting for this moment. His voice is low, ragged, almost feral.

“I don’t want to kill you,” he growls. “I want to protect you. Even if it means everyone else dies.”

He stands slowly, towering over you, blade dripping with someone else’s blood.

“Say you’re mine… and I swear, no one touches you.”