Chapter Text
The whispers persisted through the long hours of darkness, threading through Leyla’s dreams like silver needles pulling gossamer strands. She woke often, caught between slumber and wakefulness, the forest’s voice a persistent caress against her consciousness. Each time her eyes fluttered open, Valen’s rooted form remained, his vigilance unbroken even as the moon traced its lonely path across the sky.
When dawn finally met the horizon with hints of gold, Leyla rose with new purpose. The forest had called to her in the night, and though the words remained elusive, their intent pulsed within her like a second heartbeat. She needed to understand despite the fight for life she had been experiencing these past months.
She pressed her palms against the cool earth, feeling its subtle rhythm beneath her skin, something she didn’t think could even occur through vegetation.
The soil seemed to respond, a gentle vibration that traveled up her arms and settled somewhere in her chest.
Valen’s low chitter broke the silence. He stood at the edge of their small clearing, his wings half-unfurled, emerald eyes narrowed with suspicion. The connection they’d shared the previous night had long gone to be replaced by his familiar possessiveness.
Leyla rose slowly to her feet, careful to make no sudden movements. “I need to go…figure this out,” she knew he couldn’t comprehend her words but hoped her intent might somehow get through.
His only response was a sharp gesture, a command to remain where she stood.
Days passed in this locked state. The forest’s whispers grew more insistent with each nightfall, a hum that pulled at Leyla’s dreams.
During daylight, Valen kept her closer than ever, his patience thinning like ice in spring. His vigilance became more frustrating, his vocalisations more demanding, as though he sensed her growing connection to something beyond his control.
One morning, as the forest stirred, Leyla felt something unfamiliar brush against her consciousness, not the hum she had grown accustomed to, but a warning, urgent and undeniable. The trees themselves seemed to bend toward her, their branches swaying despite the stillness of the air.
Come, they seemed to say. Now.
Valen had moved deeper into the woods to hunt, so he wouldn’t be there to stop her. Leyla’s heart thundered against her ribs as she rose to her feet. This was her chance to answer the forest’s call.
She did not think or plan. Her feet carried her forward with a will of their own, following a path only half-visible among the ancient roots. The forest guided her, vines parting before her, leaves trembling in her wake.
Behind her, a roar split the morning silence, primal, furious. Valen had returned to find her gone.
Terror seized her then, cold and absolute. The forest might be calling, but Valen was hunting. And unlike the patient whispers of the trees, his rage would not wait.
She ran for her life and to grab hold of what could be the last chance to figure out what all the fuss had been about.
Leyla fled through its depths, her breath ragged and limbs aching, the thick undergrowth clawing at her ankles as though the earth itself conspired against her. Every footfall, every desperate gasp of air seemed to echo through the whispering trees, and she knew, he was coming.
She couldn’t afford to lose this chance.
The weight of his presence pressed against her senses, an unseen force that stalked her with patient inevitability. Valen’s pursuit was not one of haste because he did not need to rush. He moved as the forest did, silent and relentless.
Leyla pressed on, her heart a wild drumbeat in her chest, but deep within her, a dreadful certainty unfurled. She would not escape him.
The realization struck like a blade, yet even as despair curled its icy fingers around her resolve, something strange happened. The forest, once a hostile stranger, stirred in response to her fear. As she passed, low-hanging vines trembled and reached, twining gently around her wrists before releasing her, their caress almost... guiding.
Leaves fluttered in a pattern too deliberate to be coincidence, and the faintest hum vibrated beneath her feet, as though the very roots of the earth sought to speak in a language beyond mortal understanding.
For the first time, Leyla hesitated.
She slowed, her fingers brushing against the bark of an ancient oak. The tree seemed to pulse beneath her touch, a rhythmic cadence that echoed the quickening beat of her own heart.
And then, he was there.
Valen’s shadow loomed before her, silent as the dawn creeping over the horizon. He emerged from the thicket with the ease of a creature born of the wild, his emerald eyes dark with something unreadable, something more than mere dominance.
Breathless, trembling, Leyla took a cautious step backward, but he did not lunge, did not seize her as she had expected. Instead, his gaze flickered, sharp and assessing, before dropping to the ground between them.
For the first time, she noticed the space he left, a boundary.
She swallowed hard, her eyes darting to his face. His expression, though stern, lacked the usual cruelty she had come to fear. Was this... a truce? A silent acknowledgment of her effort, her resolve?
The forest seemed to hold its breath, and so did she.
Valen crept toward her, his wings half-unfurled. A growl rumbled in his chest, low and feral. But it was not anger that drove him. It was something far more primal, something that sent a shiver down Leyla’s spine.
He reached out, his claws raking lightly across her cheek. She closed her eyes, her breath a delicate sigh. She had known this was coming, had sensed it in the air between them.
She had thought herself safe, had believed her resistance would protect her from the inevitable. But now, as his breath ghosted against her skin, she realized she was not so invulnerable.
Valen’s touch, his gaze, held a raw power, a dark, pulsing energy that tugged at something deep within her. It was as if the forest itself was speaking to her, as if the ancient trees were urging her to surrender.
And so she did.
Valen’s lips curled into a wicked smile, revealing the sharp points of his fangs. He knew, he could sense her yielding. And it was enough.
With a low growl, he urged her form to a more comfortable position upon the forest floor. Leyla acquiesced, allowing her limbs to give way, her body splayed across the cool, moss-laden earth. Valen did not waste time, did not grant her a moment’s respite. He descended upon her, his wings outstretched, his form a shadow cast against the canopy.
Leyla would not fight against such things anymore as they always ended the same way but also, Valen’s recent gentler approaches had her hoping that his couplings with her would not leave injuries.
He was a feral thing and she could not expect him to hold the same decorum as civilized beings.
He nipped at her throat, claws grazing the sensitive skin of her flesh and pressing against her as his mossed wings twitched with anticipation. His desire was evident, his arousal a throbbing pressure against her thigh.
Without delay, he tugged at her flimsy cloth coverings and settled himself in place. The only unusual detail about all this was that he hadn’t forced her to her stomach and accepted her facing him fully as he prepared to take her.
And then, with a low growl, he thrust into her, his pace a savage rhythm. The air itself seemed to still, the forest holding its breath. Leyla cried out, her voice a delicate melody echoing through the trees.
Valen snarled, his emerald eyes alight with a fire that burned brighter than the sun.
As he claimed her, the forest responded. The ancient oaks trembled, their roots shifting, their branches reaching toward her with a reverence she had not known existed. Leaves rustled and fluttered, dancing to a song only the forest could hear.
It was a song of life, a melody that resonated deep within her soul. And as the trees sang, Leyla felt the stirrings of a power that lay hidden beneath the surface.
Listen… the word whispered upon the wind.
Valen’s movements grew frenzied, his claws digging into her skin. A low growl rumbled in his throat, feral, predatory. But it was not the growl of a beast, it was the growl of a male who has staked his claim.
The sensations built inside her until a pleasant note morphed into a delicious chorus.
Leyla surrendered, her body yielding, her limbs trembling with the intensity of her release. And as she fell, the forest caught her, cradling her in its ancient embrace. The hum grew louder, a song that vibrated through her very bones.
Valen’s pace slowed, his body shuddering with the aftershocks of his own pleasure. He remained still, his breathing labored, his heart pounding a thunderous rhythm against her chest. For a moment, they were suspended, a pair of ‘lovers’ bathed in the light of the rising sun.
And then, Valen stirred. His touch, no longer frantic, was a tender caress. He nuzzled her neck, a gentle purr rumbling in his chest. And the forest, too, seemed to exhale, its song fading into the silence.
Valen withdrew, his presence a lingering heat, a promise. As the breeze whispered through the leaves, the trees seemed to hum in unison.
Slowly, tentatively, Leyla mimicked his stillness. Valen inclined his head ever so slightly, and the ghost of a chitter rumbled in his throat, an acceptance, perhaps.
A silent pact.
For the first time since she had been thrust into this merciless world, Leyla did not feel entirely powerless.
---
The days passed in a slow, solemn dance between hunter and hunted, yet something had changed. Leyla no longer sought reckless escape; instead, she watched. She learned.
She observed the way Valen moved, how his steps barely kissed the earth, how he read the wind with the tilt of his head, how he listened to the forest’s murmurs. He was no mindless beast, but something far more, a creature inextricably entwined with the wild, his very breath a part of its rhythm.
So she would follow his example.
Where once she stumbled, she now stepped lightly. She learned to tread upon the moss without disturbing it, to listen for the soft creak of branches that signaled danger. She studied the way he gathered food, never taking more than was needed, respecting the land with an instinctual respect.
She mimicked him in other ways, too. When he crouched low in the underbrush, she mirrored his stance, blending into the shadows. When he drank from the crystalline streams, she did so in silence, feeling the cool water cleanse her thirst.
Valen noticed.
He would watch her with those inscrutable eyes, his expression a mix of curiosity and approval. He no longer sought to drag her back to his den in the same forceful manner. Instead, he allowed her to linger at the edge of his presence, granting her a measure of space she had never before been afforded.
And the forest responded in kind.
Vines no longer sought to entangle her; rather, they swayed gently, as though whispering encouragement. Birds that once fled at her approach now lingered longer, their songs weaving delicate threads into the stillness. Even the wind carried something new, an understanding, a tentative welcome.
The forest was beginning to accept her.
One evening, as dusk spilled its golden hues across the treetops, Leyla sat upon a moss-laden rock, her fingers tracing patterns in the dirt. Valen perched nearby, sharpening a jagged bone against a stone, his eyes occasionally drifting toward her with that same quiet scrutiny.
She hesitated, then picked up a slender twig and mimicked his motion, dragging it against the rock with deliberate intent. The sound, though different, held a strange satisfaction.
Valen stilled. His gaze, sharp and unrelenting, locked onto her.
Leyla forced herself to remain steady, to meet his challenge head-on. Slowly, she carved a crude shape into the earth, a leaf, simple and unadorned, but meaningful nonetheless.
Valen tilted his head, his nostrils flaring as if testing the weight of the moment. Then, with surprising gentleness, he reached forward and traced a second line alongside hers, a mere scratch of his claw, but unmistakably deliberate.
A spark of something unfamiliar flickered in Leyla’s chest.
They sat in silence, their tentative understanding etched into the soil between them.
Yet, she knew his possessiveness wouldn’t magically dissipate.
It was in the way he prowled the perimeter of their shelter, his wings flaring at the slightest disturbance. The way his gaze lingered on her whenever she wandered too far, his growls low and warning.
And still each night, without fail and sometimes throughout the day, he would find moments to claim her body as his own, drawing mewls of delight and disapproving scowls.
One afternoon, she strayed beyond the clearing, drawn by a cluster of wild berries. She barely plucked the first fruit before a sharp chitter cut through the stillness like a blade.
She turned to find him standing there, a thundercloud of silent fury. His eyes were dark, his stance predatory. For a long moment, neither of them moved.
Leyla exhaled slowly, carefully, and took a deliberate step back. She pointed to the berries, then to herself, attempting a semblance of explanation.
Valen’s expression softened, not much, but enough. He crossed the distance in two strides, snatched the berries from her hand, and threw them down.
He only ever did that to the poisonous foods he came across.
The night came, shrouded in a cool mist that curled through the trees like spectral fingers. Leyla lay in the bed of furs. Sleep came slowly, her thoughts tangled in the mystery of the forest and the creature who had become both captor and companion.
As her eyes fluttered closed, the whispers returned, curling through her mind like vines seeking purchase.
"Child of two worlds... hear us..."
Her breath hitched, but the voice was gone, leaving behind only the soft rustle of the leaves.
Somewhere nearby, Valen stirred, his presence steady amidst the unknown.
Leyla curled deeper into the furs, her heart heavy with questions yet to be answered.
Valen made for the furs to get some much-needed sleep.
She felt him settle beside her, his body a cold presence in the darkness.
Without thinking, she rolled toward him, her arms wrapping around his waist. He stiffened, but she did not withdraw. His skin was cool, almost chilled, but beneath it, she could sense a latent strength, a power that simmered beneath the surface.
She had not realized it before, between all the fighting and struggles, the way his muscles flexed with a solid, unbreakable steel. It was actually quite impressive.
She couldn’t help but poke and prod with tired, uncoordinated fingers as her eyes remained closed.
His hiss was sharp, and he batted her hands away with a flick of his wrist.
But Leyla was not so easily dissuaded. Her eyes opened, squinting into the darkness. He was little more than a silhouette, but his eyes gleamed like emeralds, sharp and alert.
Leyla was tired and sleepy, but something within her compelled her to lean forward and press her face against his chest.
His scent was earthy and familiar, with a hint of something musky.
Valen did not protest.
Instead, his wings wrapped around her, enveloping her in a cocoon of warmth and safety.
She wondered off hand if the Fae even had similar internal anatomy as humans and by the placement of his heart, beating within his chest, she guessed it was likely.
And just for spite, she reached up and carefully felt the tips of his pointed ears, to which he grumbled from irritation and hissed. Just like a cat, she thought with a smile.
Leyla would be a fool to think that the Fae were anything other than savage beasts, but here, in the safety of his embrace, she could not deny the strange sense of security his presence offered.
He was a fearsome predator, to be sure, but he was also something more, something deeper.