At the panther's tree-home, June could not calm her heart.
Something felt wrong—deeply wrong.
Her chest was tight, her thoughts restless, as if an invisible thread was being pulled somewhere far away. She didn't know whether it was homesickness, fear, or something else entirely—but unease clung to her like a shadow.
She finally turned to Drex.
"Please," she said quietly. "Let me go back to my world."
Drex paused.
June took a breath and forced herself to continue. "I'll pay any price you want. Anything."
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Drex laughed softly, as though she had just told him an amusing joke.
"Of course," he said easily. "I'll take you there myself."
Hope flared in June's chest—
Only to be crushed by his next words.
"Just give me four or five strong cubs."
Her blood ran cold.
She stared at him. "Why?" she demanded. "Why are you so obsessed with having cubs with me?"
Drex's expression changed—not angry, not cruel—but utterly cold.
"It's not your company I want," he said flatly.
"And not a family."
June's hands trembled.
"Cubs increase power," he continued. "Each one strengthens my bloodline. And with cubs, I can build a tribe."
He turned away, gazing into the forest below.
"This world is cruel," he said. "Only those with numbers and strength survive. I don't need affection. I need legacy."
June felt sick.
"So I'm just… useful?" she whispered.
Drex didn't deny it.
"You're different," he said. "Your blood doesn't belong here. That makes your offspring different too."
June clenched her fists, fury burning through fear.
"I won't be used," she said. "Not by you. Not by anyone."
Drex looked back at her then, studying her carefully.
"You misunderstand," he said. "I haven't forced you. Yet."
The word echoed ominously.
"But don't mistake patience for kindness," he added. "Outside this tree, you won't survive long enough to find your door. The wolves will find you first. Or worse."
June swallowed hard—but lifted her chin.
"Then I'll survive anyway," she said. "Because I didn't come this far just to surrender myself."
For the first time, something flickered in Drex's eyes.
Not desire.
Not anger.
Interest.
"Very well," he said slowly.
"Stay. Observe. Learn."
He stepped aside, gesturing to the forest.
"Winter is coming," he continued. "And fate moves faster than you think."
June turned toward the darkness beyond the tree, her heart pounding.
She didn't know how—but she knew one thing with certainty now:
She would find the door.
Snow began to fall quietly.
At first it was only a few flakes, drifting lazily through the air—but June knew better. Soon the ground would be covered, paths buried, and the forest locked in winter's grip.
She sat near the opening of the tree-home, watching the white dust the dark leaves.
Drex returned not long after, dropping a freshly hunted rabbit onto a stone slab.
"Eat," he said. "It's fresh. Before it spoils."
June stared at the raw meat, then shook her head.
"I can't eat it like this. Let's cook it."
Drex paused, clearly unconvinced—but he didn't refuse.
"Do you have salt?" she asked, almost without hope.
To her surprise, he nodded. "I do."
He retrieved a small pouch. "From the Central Beast Market."
June blinked. So trade exists…
As she worked—skinning, cleaning, seasoning, slowly roasting the meat over fire—she began asking questions she had been holding back.
"This world," she said carefully, "what happened to it?"
Drex leaned against the tree wall, eyes reflecting firelight.
"Once, it was lively," he said. "Tribes traded. Borders were respected. Power was balanced."
He exhaled slowly.
"Peace didn't last."
June listened intently.
"Territory wars spread," Drex continued. "Power struggles turned brutal. Everyone wanted more land, more beasts, more dominance."
His voice darkened.
"Then an ancient door opened."
June's hands stilled.
"From it came beings that didn't belong here," he said. "Dark mages. Demons. People hungry for power."
A chill crept into June's spine.
"There was war," Drex said. "A long one. Many died. In the end, the Tree Gates were sealed from the other side."
He looked at her.
"Guardians were created—beings bound to protect the doors from reopening."
June swallowed. "And now…?"
"And now," Drex said quietly, "the world is stable—but fragile."
She resumed cooking, thoughts racing.
After a moment, Drex spoke again.
"You don't belong here," he said. "Not truly."
June looked up.
"A tulip-colored aura surrounds you," he explained. "Strong. Pure. Neither light nor dark."
Her breath caught.
"If you were a black mage," he continued, "your aura would be black. Corrupt. But yours isn't."
He studied her closely.
"You have the potential to heal," he said. "Or to destroy."
June felt a strange heaviness settle in her chest.
"I'm not a hero," she said softly. "I just… do things the way I know."
Drex scoffed lightly. "Sometimes that's enough."
He looked toward the falling snow.
"Helping this world a little won't harm you," he said. "You call it sacrifice. I call it exchange."
He turned back to her.
"Saving lives is always rewarded. You just don't see the reward yet."
June fell silent.
As she tasted the cooked meat—warm, seasoned, familiar—she realized something unsettling:
Her simple ideas had already changed lives before.
In the wolf tribe.
In the mountains.
In survival itself.
For the first time since coming to this world, she wondered—
What if leaving immediately isn't the only answer?
The cold crept in slowly.
At first June only rubbed her arms, but soon her fingers stiffened and her breath turned pale in the air.
"I'm… getting cold," she said softly.
Drex studied her for a moment, then turned and disappeared into an inner hollow of the tree. When he returned, he placed a white fox-fur coat over her shoulders. It was thick, warm, and surprisingly clean.
June froze for a second, then pulled it tighter around herself.
"Thank you," she murmured.
The rabbit meat was finally done. She ate slowly, savoring the warmth spreading through her body. After a few bites, curiosity overcame hesitation.
"Drex," she asked quietly, "what about your family?"
The fire crackled.
Drex's expression darkened—not with rage, but with something older.
"They're dead," he said plainly. "All of them."
June stilled.
"A flood," he continued. "Five years ago. The river swallowed our settlement overnight."
His hands clenched briefly before relaxing.
"I survived by luck. Nothing more."
June didn't interrupt.
"When I was injured afterward—sick, weak—the Fox Tribe took me in," Drex said. "I owed them my life."
He let out a short breath.
"To repay them, I agreed to mate with the leader's daughter."
June's jaw tightened.
"She wasn't chosen for me," Drex added coldly. "I was chosen for her."
He stared into the fire.
"I refused her many times," he said. "But she wanted power, not companionship. She used my name, my strength, my reputation to gather strong beastmen."
June frowned. "Used… how?"
"She told them that if they didn't obey her," Drex said, "I would kill them."
June felt a chill far deeper than the cold.
"They believed it," he continued. "No one questioned it. Fear is easier than truth."
His voice hardened.
"When all the strong males were bound to her, she demanded my obedience. Not partnership. Ownership."
June clenched the fox coat tightly.
"And you refused."
"Yes," Drex said. "So she broke the bond."
He laughed bitterly.
"I lost a portion of my power. My standing. My place. I became a stray."
June swallowed. "And yet… you didn't retaliate."
Drex's gaze flicked to her.
"I never harmed anyone," he said quietly. "Unless they asked for it."
Silence settled between them.
June looked at him—not as a predator, not as a captor—but as someone shaped by loss and betrayal.
"That doesn't excuse everything," she said carefully. "But… I understand why you don't trust bonds."
Drex didn't respond.
But for the first time, his aura softened—just slightly.
Outside, snow continued to fall, burying old paths and forcing new ones to be made.