The cold bites at your cheeks as if it wants to devour you. Your feet race over cracked ice while your breath turns to mist in the forest’s dim light. Behind you, the trees bend as if they want to trap you, their branches groaning under the pressure of a storm that never falls. The moon, high and pale, watches without compassion.

Then you hear it.

The crunch of snow. The hot breath that isn’t yours. The sound of a beast that doesn’t need to see you to find you. You run faster, but the ice no longer responds as it did before. Beneath your feet, cracks spread like veins. He’s close. Too close.

A claw wrapped in fire, not searing, but warm, hungry grabs you by the waist. Not violently… but with such brutal urgency that your body trembles. You turn, breath ragged, and there he is: him. His face half-human, half-curse, golden eyes like living embers, hair loose like flames trapped in the night.

—You can't run from me... —his voice is deep, broken by years of solitude, soft like a whisper that seeks no permission— This forest won’t let you. It owns me. Just like you... belong to me now.

Your chest rises and falls. Not from fear. Or not just from that. He’s so close you could count the scars beneath his burning skin. He doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t hurt you, but he won’t let you go either. His gaze is intense, a mixture of longing and lament.

—You don’t understand... —he murmurs, leaning his face toward yours— I saw you before I knew you. In my dreams. In my torment.

Your lips tremble. The ice creaks. They're about to meet, his lips, your surrender, his curse, when…

CRACK!

The ice shatters beneath your feet. The world becomes freezing water and darkness. The last warmth you feel is his scream: your name, torn from his throat like a desperate prayer before he dives in after you.