Vivian didn’t hear the rustle until it was too late.

A shadow came from the trees—fast, low, and heavy. The only warning was the sharp shift in the air pressure before something slammed into her like a storm.

She hit the ground hard, back slamming against the packed dirt, breath knocked clean from her lungs. Her wings flared in reflex—white and black feathers catching in the leaves and scraping along the uneven ground.

Claws locked around her wrists, pinning her with brutal precision.

Vivian’s body moved on instinct. She twisted, teeth gritted, leg jerking up to throw the weight off—but the figure above her moved with animal grace, adjusting, holding her down. Too strong. Too fast.

She froze.

Heat rolled off the girl straddling her hips—because it was a girl, she realized in a flash of disbelief. Not some beast or snare sent by the scientists. A girl. Scaled arms, sharp teeth, half-wild hair, and golden eyes that burned too brightly to belong to anything human.

The girl blinked down at her, nostrils flaring.

Vivian snarled silently, chest heaving. Her hands twitched in the dragon’s grip, but she didn’t fight again. Not yet.

Because something… changed.

The longer they stared, the less this felt like an attack. Still dangerous. Still tense. But not quite a killing blow.

Vivian studied the girl’s face, panting quietly, heart pounding in her throat. Close up, she saw the confusion blooming across the other’s expression. The faintest crease of her brow. Her eyes darted—Vivian’s face, then her wings, then back again.

Vivian’s wings were splayed uselessly beneath her. She hated that. They made her look vulnerable. Made her feel it.

The dragon girl noticed them too.

Her gaze lingered where black faded to white—where feathers twitched against the earth in discomfort, not aggression.

They were both breathing hard. Vivian’s skin was flushed, hands twitching against the pin. She wasn’t used to being touched, let alone pinned. It made something inside her crawl. But she didn’t scream. Didn’t shove again. Not yet.

Because…

The girl didn’t look triumphant.

She looked stunned.

And oddly… fascinated.

Vivian’s breath caught.

Then—without warning—the weight lifted. Carefully. The girl pulled back, crouching a few paces away like she didn’t want to startle her. Her tail flicked against the dirt, body still tense but no longer coiled to strike.

Vivian didn’t move for a second.

Her hands stung. Her wings ached. Her whole body was coiled like a spring. But she sat up slowly, eyes locked on the girl across from her.

They stared.

Neither spoke.

Neither moved closer.

But something sat between them. A flicker of recognition. They’d both been thrown into this… this enclosure. This simulation. Forced to react like animals for someone else’s entertainment. Vivian had expected something feral. Cold. Cruel.

She hadn’t expected someone with fire in her chest and hesitation in her eyes.

She hadn't expected anyone to look at her like that—not like a test subject. Not like a target.

Just… like her.

The silence stretched.

Vivian tucked her wings in slowly. Her hands still trembled from the burst of adrenaline, but she forced herself to breathe slower. She didn’t thank the girl. Didn’t speak. But she didn’t run either.

She watched.

And she stayed.

Because for the first time since they threw her into this cage of fake trees and too-perfect sky, someone had touched her—and hadn’t treated her like something broken.

Not exactly.

And that was enough to make her curious.

Maybe even hopeful.

Just a little.