Chapter 9 Fateful Encounter

Seraphine's POV

I twisted sideways, pure instinct taking over. Not fast enough. Its weight slammed into my shoulder, sending me sprawling into the snow. Pain shot through my already injured arm as I hit the ground hard.

Get up. Move. Now.

My body responded a second too slow. By the time I'd rolled onto my back, the lynx had already recovered, repositioning for another attack. Those yellow eyes never left mine—cold, calculating, patient. It knew I was wounded. Knew I was weak.

It lunged again. I threw up my injured arm as a shield, biting back a scream as claws raked across barely-healed wounds. Blood—warm and sticky—immediately began flowing again, the scent driving the lynx into a frenzy.

"Fuck off!" I shouted, voice raw, kicking out with what little strength I had left.

My boot caught its shoulder, barely slowing it down. The lynx circled, staying just beyond my reach, waiting for the perfect opening. I struggled to my feet, vision swimming from the sudden movement. Dad's lessons echoed in my head.

Never show fear. Make yourself big. Find a weapon. Anything.

I grabbed a fallen branch, holding it like a pathetic shield. The wood felt fragile in my grip—about as useful as a toothpick against a freight train. My heart hammered against my ribs. Each breath burned. Blood dripped steadily from my fingers into the snow.

The lynx attacked again, faster this time. I swung the branch, but it easily ducked beneath my clumsy defense. Its claws found my leg, tearing through fabric and skin. I fell to one knee, the branch snapping under my weight.

I can't win this. I can't even stand.

Three more desperate dodges left me gasping for air, each movement slower than the last. My lungs felt like they were filled with fire. The world kept tilting sideways, edges of my vision darkening with every heartbeat.

I'm going to die here.

One last try. That's all I had left.

I slumped forward, exaggerating my weakness. The lynx circled closer, sensing victory. My fingers curled around a jagged rock half-buried in the snow. Not much of a weapon, but better than nothing.

Come on. Just a little closer.

When it sprang, I threw everything into one desperate counter-attack, aiming for its throat with the rock clutched in my fist.

I missed.

The lynx twisted mid-air, impossibly agile. My momentum carried me forward into empty space. I crashed face-first into the snow, the rock tumbling from my numb fingers.

I couldn't get up again. My body simply refused to move.

Lyralei...

Her face filled my thoughts. Her smile. The way she'd wake me up by poking my cheeks. The absolute trust in her eyes whenever she looked at me.

I'm sorry I couldn't find you. I'm sorry I left you alone.

Tears froze against my cheeks. I closed my eyes, waiting for teeth to find my throat.

At least make it quick.

But the pain didn't come. Instead, I heard a high-pitched shriek—not human, but not my imagination either. The sound of something in pain. Something struggling.

I forced my eyes open, vision blurring in and out of focus.

Through the haze, I saw movement. A massive shadow wrestling with the lynx. A man—tall and powerful—had the predator locked in what looked like a one-handed grip around its throat. The lynx thrashed wildly, claws raking air, unable to break free.

I blinked hard, trying to clear my vision. Sunlight broke through the branches overhead, illuminating the scene in golden patches.

The man stood like something from another world. Tall—at least six-foot-three—with broad shoulders and the kind of fluid strength that comes from experience, not just muscle. His hair caught the light—an unusual white-gray that looked almost silver where the sun touched it. Not the gray of age, but something different. Something rare.

His face came into focus: sharp jawline, strong features, probably mid-thirties. Handsome in a rugged, intense way that didn't seem entirely... normal. Something about him felt both dangerous and mesmerizing.

The lynx's struggles weakened as the man maintained his grip, not strangling it but controlling it completely. For a brief moment, his eyes met mine across the clearing.

I froze. His eyes had two pupils in each iris—a genetic anomaly I'd only heard about in stories. Those strange double-pupiled eyes seemed to look through me rather than at me, triggering something primal in my core.

Without warning, he released the lynx. The animal dropped to the ground, stunned but alive. It gathered itself quickly, darting into the forest without looking back.

The clearing fell silent except for our breathing.

He approached slowly, his breath coming in visible, irregular bursts. In the full light, I could see details I'd missed before. His skin had a slight flush that didn't match the cold. His muscles seemed tense beneath his clothing, like he was fighting for control of something within himself.

I tried to push backward, away from him, but my body wouldn't cooperate. Every survival instinct told me to be cautious, yet I couldn't muster the energy to be afraid. Something about him felt... familiar? Not his face or form, but something deeper. Something I couldn't name.

What the hell is wrong with me? I should be terrified.

Instead, my heart raced for entirely different reasons. His scent reached me—clean and wild and strangely comforting. My body responded to it in ways I didn't understand, a warmth spreading through me despite the snow beneath my back.

He crouched down, maintaining a careful distance while examining my injuries. His breathing remained uneven, like he was deliberately controlling it. Those unusual eyes avoided direct contact with mine after that first glance.

"You'll live," he said after a moment, his voice deep and slightly rough, as if he didn't use it often. "These wounds are already healing faster than they should."

I stared at him, unable to form words. Up close, the strange attraction only intensified—a pull I'd never experienced before, like two magnets recognizing each other. It made no logical sense.

He seemed to feel it too. His jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists at his sides. When he finally looked at me again, those double pupils contracted sharply.

"I'm Kaelen," he said simply.