Chapter 3

The wind whipped Catherine's hair into a tangled mess. She gripped the thick, smooth scales beneath her thighs, her knuckles turning white. The giant black snake moved with impossible speed and smoothness, gliding over massive fallen logs and weaving through dense thickets without jostling her once.

Suddenly, the claustrophobic canopy of the forest broke open.

Catherine blinked against the sudden moonlight. Below a towering cliff face, a sprawling settlement appeared. It was a chaotic mix of massive stone caves carved directly into the rock and sturdy wooden cabins built on the ground.

The snake slowed down, slithering toward the edge of the settlement.

A flash of silver light blinded Catherine for a second. The solid scales beneath her vanished, replaced by hard, hot muscle. Amon caught her perfectly in his arms before she could fall, his human form fully restored.

He stood at the edge of the clearing, holding her tight against his chest.

A group of heavily muscled men patrolling the perimeter stopped dead in their tracks. When they looked at Amon, Catherine saw naked disgust and hostility flash across their faces.

But then, their eyes shifted to Catherine.

Every single man in the patrol inhaled sharply. The air suddenly felt thick, heavy with a suffocating, aggressive energy.

Catherine shrank back against Amon's chest. Her modern clothes were torn and dirty, but her pale skin, delicate features, and the sheer novelty of her appearance acted like a magnet. The men stared at her with unblinking, ravenous hunger.

Amon's body turned to stone.

His jaw locked. A low, vibrating snarl ripped from his throat. It wasn't a human sound. It was the warning hiss of a lethal predator. He shifted his stance, pulling Catherine tighter against him, burying her face in his chest to hide her from their view.

The sheer pressure of Amon's aura hit the patrol men like a physical blow. They stumbled backward, their faces pale, but their greedy eyes kept darting toward the sliver of Catherine's leg visible beneath Amon's arm.

The commotion drew attention. A large group of people hurried out of the central stone building.

At the front was an older, heavily scarred man wearing an elaborate fur cloak. This was Barrett Vance, the tribe chief.

Barrett's eyes sharpened. He stepped forward quickly but maintained a steady, authoritative stride. Instead of rushing directly at Catherine, he barked an order over his shoulder to his guards: "Get Silas over here, now. Have him check this female's condition!"

Amon's arms tightened around Catherine until it almost hurt. He took a step back, his golden eyes flashing with violent refusal. He didn't want anyone touching her.

But Catherine winced, her injured ankle throbbing from the sudden movement. Amon felt her flinch. His jaw ticked. He forced himself to stop moving, his chest heaving with the effort to suppress his instincts.

A young man pushed through the crowd. He had soft features, gentle brown eyes, and a nervous energy about him. He carried a woven pouch smelling of crushed leaves. This was Silas Frye, the panda shifter healer.

Silas approached Amon, his eyes glued to the ground. When he got close enough to smell the sweet, pure scent radiating from Catherine, his face flushed a deep, violent red. His hands started to shake.

He knelt awkwardly by Amon's leg. "I... I just need to check her ankle," Silas stammered.

Amon growled, a low rumble of warning, but he slightly shifted his grip, allowing Silas access to her foot.

Silas extended his trembling fingers. A soft, pale green light bloomed from his fingertips. He gently hovered his hand over Catherine's swollen ankle.

Catherine watched in shock. The pain instantly vanished, replaced by a soothing, cool sensation. Real magic.

Silas closed his eyes, his brow furrowing as he concentrated. A moment later, the green light faded. He stood up, looking at Barrett.

"She is not severely injured. Just a sprain," Silas reported, his voice tinged with awe and pity. "But... her body is incredibly fragile. There is absolutely no energy fluctuation within her. She has no ability. She is like a flower that could snap in a strong wind."

Silas pulled his hand back, his eyes wide with a mixture of reverence and deep concern. To the surrounding males, her utter lack of magical signature didn't signify weakness-it signaled a profound, almost sacred purity that demanded their absolute protection.

Instead of disappointment, the crowd of males erupted into a low, excited murmur. The absolute lack of power triggered their deepest, most primal protective instincts.

Barrett's eyes burned with ambition. He stepped right up to Amon and reached out, trying to grab Catherine's hand. "Beautiful female, welcome to the Giant Rock Tribe. I am Chief Barrett."

Before Barrett's fingers could even brush her skin, Amon's hand shot out. He slapped Barrett's hand away with a loud, vicious crack.

Amon stepped completely in front of Catherine, shielding her with his massive back.

Barrett's face twisted in fury. He pointed a thick finger at Amon's chest. "Amon! You cursed, cold-blooded monster! Step aside! Don't terrify the precious female with your foul presence!"

The words hit Amon like a physical strike.

Catherine saw the immediate reaction. Amon's broad shoulders slumped a fraction of an inch. His fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned stark white. The violent energy radiating from him vanished, replaced by a suffocating, heavy wave of self-hatred and shame. He didn't say a word. He just stood there, taking the insult.

A younger man, built like a tank, shoved his way to the front. It was Jett, the chief's son. He raked his eyes over Catherine's hidden form. "Father is right. She's too fragile. She needs the strongest male to protect her and give her strong cubs. I am the best choice."

Instantly, the plaza devolved into chaos. Males started shouting, flexing their muscles, some even partially transforming their arms into bear claws or wolf paws, roaring to prove their strength to her.

The noise was deafening. The aggressive, suffocating testosterone in the air made Catherine's stomach churn.

She looked at Amon's back. He was trembling. The temperature around him was plummeting, frost forming on the dirt beneath his bare feet. He was a second away from snapping.

Catherine's heart pounded. A hot, fierce anger ignited in her chest. She hated bullies. And she hated that the man who had just saved her life was being treated like garbage.

She took a deep breath. She reached out and grabbed Amon's tightly clenched fist.

Amon flinched violently. He whipped his head around, his golden eyes wide with shock as he stared at her small, pale hand wrapping around his rough, scarred fingers.

Catherine stepped out from behind his back. She locked eyes with Barrett, then swept her gaze over the screaming crowd.

"I don't need any of you," Catherine said. Her voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the noise like a knife. "He saved my life when I was about to be eaten. I am staying with him."