The silver-haired man watched June closely as fear clouded her face.
His lips curved—just slightly.
"Since I saved your life," he said calmly, "you now belong to me."
June's breath hitched.
"That's not how things work," she whispered.
He tilted his head, studying her reaction, then added slowly, deliberately—
"You must complete the ritual with me. If you refuse…"
He paused.
"One of us will die."
June's knees nearly buckled.
"Y–You're lying," she said weakly.
For a brief moment—so brief she almost missed it—something unreadable flashed in his blue eyes.
But he did not correct her.
Fear worked faster than truth.
"I don't want to die," June said, her voice trembling.
"Then come," he replied. "I will not let harm reach you."
The forest shifted as they walked.
Trees parted. Shadows bent away from him. The air itself seemed to recognize his presence.
Soon, a massive stone residence emerged—half grown into the mountain, half carved by ancient hands. Glowing runes lined the entrance, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.
"This is my home," he said. "You are safe here."
June hesitated at the threshold.
He waited.
When she finally stepped inside, warmth enveloped her instantly. The interior was vast but quiet—filled with firelight, carved wood, and the scent of pine and earth.
He guided her to a private chamber, simple but clean, with soft furs and a stone hearth.
"Rest," he said. "You are not a prisoner."
She looked at him sharply. "You just told me I belong to you."
He did not deny it.
Instead, he said, "Belonging does not always mean chains."
Later, when June had calmed enough to sit by the fire, he finally spoke again.
"Yesterday," he said, "someone opened the Gate Between Worlds."
June stiffened.
"The annex…" she whispered.
"Yes."
His gaze hardened. "It was foretold long ago that a human would open it. I never believed it would truly happen."
He turned to her fully.
"I never imagined it would be you."
June's heart pounded. "I didn't mean to. I just— I fell—"
"The gate does not open by accident," he said quietly. "It responds to bloodlines, intent, and fate."
She felt cold.
"Because you opened it," he continued, "you are now tied to this world. What happens next will affect both realms."
June shook her head, overwhelmed. "I don't even understand this world."
"You will," he said.
"And you will help protect it."
She looked up at him, fear giving way to disbelief—and anger.
"You scared me into coming here," she said. "You told me I'd die."
For the first time, something like guilt crossed his face.
"…I exaggerated," he admitted.
June stared.
"You lied to me?!"
He met her gaze steadily. "But the danger is real. Just not in the way you think."
The fire crackled between them.
Outside, distant howls echoed through the mountains.
June hugged her arms to herself, realizing something terrifying—
She hadn't just crossed worlds.
She had been chosen by one.
That night, as the fire burned low and the unfamiliar world slept, June lay awake.
She missed the desolated house more than anything.
The creaking stairs.
The cold stone walls.
The smell of detergent on clean sheets.
Even the silence.
That place was hers.
This world isn't, she thought fiercely.
Saving it didn't matter to her—not now, not ever. Whatever prophecy they spoke of, whatever gate she had opened, it wasn't her responsibility.
She didn't belong among beasts and ancient laws.
She belonged home.
June turned her face toward the shadows of the room, her jaw tightening.
I will go back.
The silver wolf—no, the man—was powerful. Alert. Always watching.
Running blindly would be suicide.
So she decided to wait.
To observe.
To pretend.
When he lowers his guard, she told herself, I'll find the annex door… and I'll leave.
But first—
She needed information.
The next day, June followed him quietly through the stone halls of his home, acting calm, curious—obedient enough not to raise suspicion.
"Your world," she said casually, as they passed a carved archway, "how many gates are there?"
He paused for half a second.
"Very few," he answered. "Most are sealed forever."
"And the one I opened?" she asked, keeping her tone light. "Can it be closed?"
He glanced at her, eyes sharp.
"Yes."
Her heart leapt—but she hid it well.
"What happens if it isn't?" she continued.
"Both worlds weaken," he replied. "Creatures cross where they shouldn't. Balance decays."
June nodded slowly, as if processing.
But inside, her thoughts raced.
So the door still exists.
Later, she sat across from him by the fire.
"You said the ritual binds worlds," she said softly. "Is it… permanent?"
He studied her face.
"Nothing is permanent," he said at last. "Even bonds can be broken."
June lowered her gaze, pretending fear.
"But at a cost," he added.
She swallowed deliberately.
Everything has a cost, she thought. And I'm willing to pay mine—as long as it gets me home.
That night, as she lay alone, June clenched her fists beneath the blanket.
She would survive this place.
She would learn its rules.
She would find the door hidden behind stone and magic—
And when the time came—
She would leave.
No matter what this wolf thought.
No matter what fate demanded.
Because June had already lost one world.
She refused to lose herself too.
June waited for the right moment.
They were seated near a high stone balcony overlooking the forest when she finally spoke, her voice deliberately casual.
"You never told me your name."
He turned to her.
"Alex," he said. There was no hesitation—only pride. "Alpha Alex."
She repeated it silently.
Alex.
As if sensing her curiosity, he continued, clearly pleased.
"I am a five-star beast," he said. "Only one step away from immortality."
He smiled—slow, smug.
"I have hunted ancient predators, sealed rogue gates, and saved countless cubs abandoned during wars." His eyes gleamed as he spoke, lost in his own legend. "Strength is responsibility. I never forget that."
June nodded, masking her thoughts.
So confident. So arrogant.
Then he added casually—too casually—
"In the future, when you bear my cubs, I will teach them myself. I will raise them into five-star beasts as well."
June flinched.
It was subtle—but not subtle enough.
Her fingers curled tightly in her lap.
For a second, panic surged through her chest.
Then she forced herself to nod.
"I… see."
Lie, she told herself. Just play along.
Alex watched her closely. "You don't look pleased."
June lifted her gaze. "I don't have feelings for you," she said quietly. "How can I… mate with someone I don't love?"
His answer came too easily.
"I will make you fall in love with me."
Her stomach twisted.
"You're too beautiful," he continued, his tone dismissive, "to belong to any low-star beast. Fate wouldn't allow it."
June felt something cold settle in her chest.
Not fear.
Anger.
But she swallowed it down.
"When?" she asked instead.
"When memorial week ends," he replied. "That is the law."
June shuddered despite herself.
She lowered her eyes, pretending weakness.
Inside, her mind sharpened.
Memorial week, she noted.
A fixed time.
A deadline.
Which meant—
I still have time.
That night, alone in her chamber, June pressed her hands against her racing heart.
He thinks this is inevitable.
He thinks I'll surrender.
She stared at the stone ceiling, jaw set.
"I won't," she whispered.