Page 41 of Demon Monster's Little Human

He wouldn’t have left.

Would he?

A bitter taste coats my tongue. Of course, he would.

I shove the thought down before it can dig too deep. He wouldn’t abandon me, not like this, not when I’m still weak. He’s stubborn, possessive in his own cold, ruthless way. He has no reason to keep me alive, no reason to fight for me like he has, but he does.

I don’t understand why.

Shaky hands push against the cavern floor, and I drag myself upright, swallowing against the nausea curling in my stomach. My fever must be breaking, but exhaustion clings to me, clawing at my limbs as I stagger toward the mouth of the cave.

The world beyond is vast, a jagged expanse of mountains and mist curling between the ridges. Wind cuts through the stone, sharp and restless, carrying the smell of damp earth and old storms. The sky is heavy, thick clouds stretched across the horizon, pressing down like a lid on a coffin.

Dain is nowhere in sight.

Something in me tightens, and I take another step forward, eyes sweeping the landscape, searching. I don’t call out for him. I don’t dare.

Something else is out here.

It has been watching.

The sensation creeps along my spine, slithering beneath my skin like an unseen hand. It’s not something I can hear or see, but I feel it.

It’s been there since the temple. Since the mines. Since the tunnels beneath the ruins.

It lingers now, close.

The air thickens, the pressure building in a way that makes my pulse race, my hands tremble. My body reacts before my mind can make sense of it, instincts screaming at me to run, hide, disappear.

Dain had said nothing about this thing, but I know he felt it too. He must have.

I strain to listen, heart hammering in my ears, waiting for something, a whisper, a shift in the shadows, a sign that I’m not imagining this.

Nothing moves.

But the fear coils tighter.

I am not alone.

I take another step.

The wind shifts, and a low growl rumbles through the valley.

The sound is deep, primal, vibrating through the ground beneath my feet. My breath locks in my throat as I turn, eyes locking onto the source.

The beast moves from the rocks, massive and hulking, its form shifting between shadow and flesh, muscles rippling beneath dark, matted fur. Its eyes gleam, black and bottomless, hunger carved into every sharp edge of its body.

It has been waiting.

Now, it moves.

The growl builds, a deep reverberation that shakes me from the inside out, rattling my ribs. My body locks up, its gaze pinning me in place.

It lunges.

I don’t think—I run.

The cliffs blur, the world narrowing into a desperate stretch of uneven ground, loose rock sliding beneath my feet. My breath comes too fast, every heartbeat a violent drumbeat in my ears. The beast follows, heavy and relentless, claws scraping against the stone as it closes in.

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