She Was His

- Third Person’s POV -

A monster, that’s what they called him. A terrifying creature, that’s what they said. But who cares? He didn’t. His face was as cold as ice, his eyes sharper than blades, and his presence alone made the air heavy with fear. Nobody dared to speak when he appeared. He didn’t need words to strike terror... his silence was enough.

The man carried an unconscious little girl in his arms as he stepped out of the cave and into the dark forest. Every step he took was steady, calculated, as if he owned the very ground he walked on. The little girl was frail, wounded, and pale, yet somehow alive. She shouldn’t have been, not after what happened.

He never cared about anything, never cared about anyone. His heart was stone, his soul hollow. And yet, he couldn’t understand why he was bothered by this little girl who just appeared out of nowhere. From the moment she stumbled into his cave with that intoxicating scent, he knew. That girl wasn’t ordinary. She was his. He owned her.

When he reached the roadside, the man lowered the girl gently, laying her down on the dirt. For the last time, he leaned closer, inhaling her deliciously sweet rose scent. His lips curved ever so slightly into something that wasn’t quite a smile but not his usual cold expression either.

“This is not farewell. I’ll see you again… Love.”

And then he disappeared into the shadows.

---

- Maive’s POV -

My eyes fluttered open. The dizziness made the world spin for a moment, and I realized I was lying on the side of a road. Confused, I pushed myself up, clutching my pounding head.

“W-where… am I?” My voice cracked, my throat dry.

The last thing I remembered was being inside that dark, cursed cave—bleeding, weak, and sure that I would die. I remembered the searing pain from the stab wound in my back, the burning sensation of punches landing on my body, and then darkness. I should have died.

But here I was. Alive.

I looked down at myself. My clothes were stiff with dried blood, yet my skin… my skin was whole. No wound, no bruises, no pain except for the dull sting on my neck. Trembling, I touched it, and a sharp hiss escaped my lips. There was something there. A mark. A bite.

Panic tightened my chest. “What… happened to me?”

I stumbled backward, tears filling my eyes. My father’s face flashed in my mind. My brother’s laughter. And then the memory of them falling, dying, beaten by the very people we lived with. The villagers. My own people.

“They killed them,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “They killed Papa… they killed Zonen.”

My heart ached so deeply I thought I would collapse right there. I was alone now. Completely alone. My family was gone. My father, who was accused of crimes he never committed. My brother, who always protected me. Both of them were gone. And me? I was left behind, cursed by their blood.

I hugged myself, rocking slightly as sobs shook my body.

But then, another thought cut through the grief like a knife.

How did I get here? I was in that cave. Everyone knew no one ever came out alive from the Ghost Cave. But I did. How?

A memory flickered.

A hand. A warm hand that touched my cheek just before I passed out. Then… the sting of a bite.

My stomach dropped. Someone had been there. Someone touched me. Someone bit me.

“No…” I shook my head. “No, that’s impossible. Nobody goes in that cave.”

But the pain in my neck told me otherwise.

Before I could think further, voices carried through the trees. Men. Laughing. Talking. Getting closer. My heart leapt into my throat.

The villagers.

Terror shot through me. If they saw me, they would kill me. Just like they killed my father. Just like they killed Zonen.

I ran. Barefoot, desperate, stumbling on rocks and sharp twigs that cut my feet open, but I didn’t stop. Every sound behind me made me think they were chasing me.

My chest burned, my lungs screamed for air, but I kept running.

And then, out of nowhere, a black car appeared on the road.

I froze.