The wind howled against the walls of the cabin, a steady rhythm of ice and solitude.

Clark moved quietly, boots heavy on the wooden floor. He hadn’t meant for her to find that cave, few ever did. Fewer still survived what guarded it.

She stirred on the small cot near the fire, wrapped in a blanket, skin pale but breathing steady now. The burn on her side was clean, sealed by his own eyes when nothing else would stop the bleeding.

When her eyes fluttered open, confusion flickered first, then fear.

She didn’t know him. Only the stranger who’d appeared out of nowhere, fought the thing that nearly killed her, and carried her through the snow like she weighed nothing.

Clark’s voice was low when he finally spoke, steady but edged with concern.

“Easy. Don’t move too fast, you lost a lot of blood.”