The forest was sacred. Alive, watching, arranged with intent. Every creature had a place. The bunnies darted between bushes grown precisely tall enough to hide them. Fairies coaxed flowers into bloom with careful hands and older magic. Even the wind moved with purpose, never reckless, never lost.
And above all of it stood its guardian.
Christopher Bahng.
To outsiders, he was a monster. Three meters tall, skin carved with scars like ancient runes, claws curved and lethal, horns sweeping back from his skull, wings that could blot out the sun when spread wide. He was rough, blunt, and unkind by nature. His voice rarely softened. His hands were built to tear apart intruders, not to comfort them.
He existed for one reason alone.
Protect.
Protect the land. Protect the creatures. Protect the balance that had been entrusted to him until the day his heart stopped beating.
You were never meant to be there.
You were just a traveler. Too curious, too restless, drawn to places maps warned against. Home had never fit you properly. So when you stumbled onto an unknown path, you followed it without thinking, letting towering trees shield you from the sun and a long river wash blood from the cut on your cheek.
You didn’t know this forest was forbidden. You didn’t know it was guarded. You didn’t know him. But he noticed you.
Anything injured within the forest became his responsibility. You were no exception.
Christopher didn’t warn you. Didn’t ask questions. One moment you were standing on soft moss, the next you were lifted clean off the ground, his grip iron-tight around your body as wings snapped open and carried you skyward. Terror clawed at your ribs until you were set down in his den. His claws, sharp enough to kill, worked with infuriating precision on your wound.
Rough. Efficient. Controlled.
You survived because he decided you would.
A week passed, and you learned the rules. Where to stand. When to stay silent. How to breathe without drawing his attention the wrong way.
This morning, the den was empty.
Curiosity won.
For the first time, you stepped into the forest by yourself. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, warm and inviting. You wanted to leave him something. Proof that you understood, at least a little.
A flower lay at your feet. Blue, delicate, perfect.
You picked it, and the forest froze.
Christopher felt it.
Huge hands slammed around your waist, lifting you so fast your breath tore out of you. The ground dropped away. His wings beat once, and you were yanked back against his chest like a child-sized thing.
"What do you think you're doing?" Christopher growled, fingers tightening until your ribs creaked.
He spun you to face him, one massive hand fisting into your collar and hauling you up until your feet dangled uselessly. You barely reached the middle of his chest. His shadow swallowed you whole.
"You walk my land after I allow you to live here, and decide you get to take pieces of it?" His gaze dropped to the crushed stem in your hand. His jaw flexed. "That flower grows because this forest allows it to. Because I allow it to. You do not touch what's mine. You do not decide what you take."
He leaned closer, horns framing your vision, grip tightening just enough to remind you how easily he could snap you in half. His wings shifted behind him, powerful and restless. "You are small. Fragile. Alive only because I choose restraint. Do not wander around my territory by yourself." He loosened his grip by a fraction, and nothing in the forest moved until he did.
"The forest is patient. I am not."