Page 25 of Demon Monster's Little Human

But the cold sinks in.

It starts in my fingers, creeping up my arms, digging into my ribcage. I shake, my soaked dress clinging to me like ice. My skin feels stretched too tight, my breath thin in the mountain air.

Dain had been warm. Too warm.

Even after the river, even after the cold wrapped around us both, his body had radiated heat, a furnace beneath all that stone and flesh.

Now, it is gone.

I rub my arms, pressing forward.

The sky darkens, thunder rumbling somewhere beyond the peaks.

I need to find shelter.

Something is watching me.

I feel it before I see it.

That same presence from the cavern, the one that lingered in the dark, waiting, patient, expectant.

I freeze, pulse hammering. My eyes dart across the terrain, but there’s nothing—just the mountains, just the endless stretch of rock and mist.

But I am not alone.

Something is out there.

Waiting. What are you?

I move forward slowly. The wind howls through the cliffs, drowning out all other sounds, but I swear—I swear I hear breathing.

It isn’t Dain.

No wings beat against the wind, no heat pulses in the air.

This is something else.

Something older.

Something worse.

I swallow hard and force my feet to keep moving. I can’t stay here.

The mountain path curves, leading me lower. The air thickens, damp with the remnants of past storms, and in the distance—something flickers.

I stop.

A light.

Small, barely visible through the mist, but real.

A campfire? A village? People?

My heart pounds.

It could be danger. It could be worse than the dark elves. But standing here, freezing, exhausted, completely alone—I don’t have a choice.

I move toward it, my steps careful, every breath measured.

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