Chapter 15: The Strange Man In The Trees

Chapter 15: Chapter 15: The Strange Man In The Trees But Peace Never Lasts... Just as she was about to sink into another dramatic floating session, something shifted in the trees. Her ears twitched. Her body froze. The sound was subtle—just the faintest rustle of leaves. But she had been chased too many times since coming here to ignore it. Someone— Or something— Was watching her. Rustle. Isabella’s breath hitched. Her body stiffened in the water. Something was watching her. Her heart pounded. She whipped her head around, scanning the dense trees surrounding the pool. The morning sunlight cut through the thick leaves, but the shadows between them seemed... alive. No. No. No. She was alone out here. This was her secret bath. She was naked. Completely. A bad feeling crept up her spine. Her survival instincts screamed—get out, now! But just as she moved— A shadow launched from the trees. A massive black panther. It didn’t slink or stalk like a normal predator. No. It lunged. Straight toward her. Isabella screamed. A truly spectacular, lungs-ripping, soul-leaving-her-body scream. The panther landed smoothly on the rocks in front of her, muscles coiled, sleek black fur gleaming under the sun, red eyes locked onto her. Isabella’s lungs failed her. Her bath. Her peace. Her dignity. Gone. She did the only logical thing. She threw her arms over her chest, ducked lower into the water, and started bargaining with God. "Lord," she gasped, eyes shining with unshed tears. "I—I just wanted a proper bath! I wasn’t even asking for soap! Please, I don’t want to die naked!" The panther tilted its head. Like it was amused. Like it was mocking her. Isabella’s stomach dropped. No. No, this was wrong. A normal animal would have attacked by now. Or growled. Or something. This one just sat there. Watching. Her gut twisted. Something—someone—was in that body. Her breath barely had time to catch up before the air rippled. Crack. Snap. Shift. A strange, gut-deep sound filled the air. And then— The panther was gone. In its place stood a man. A very, very naked man. "AAAAAHHHH!" Her second scream was just as dramatic as the first. Water splashed wildly as she threw both hands over her face. She refused to look. She refused to breathe. She was already traumatized enough. What kind of beastman was this?! Then his voice rumbled, deep and amused. "You’re loud," he drawled, voice smooth and rich, like this wasn’t the worst moment of her life. "YOU’RE NAKED!" she shrieked back, staring anywhere but down. She got a glimpse of black hair, dark, golden-brown skin, tattoos swirling over his arms, broad shoulders, sharp jawline—and that was all she allowed herself. She slapped both hands over her eyes. He chuckled. Chuckled. This was a nightmare. "Stop looking, then," he mused. "I’M NOT LOOKING!" He hummed. "Hmm. You sure?" Her entire body burned. She was going to die of humiliation. Or drown herself. That sounded like a solid option. Right? Then, to her absolute horror, he bent down, picked something off the ground, and held it up. Oh no no no no, this cannot be happening. It was her clothes. "Is this yours?" Isabella gawked at him. Her lifeline. Her only protection. Dangling in his tattooed hands like it was a dirty rag. He turned the fabric this way and that, frowning. "It looks like a rag." Her eye twitched. "I—" Was he serious?! "I live in a hut! I don’t have access to silk robes and embroidered tunics, Your Highness!" she snapped. He smirked. She instantly regretted saying anything. Because of course he was handsome. Ridiculously, unfairly handsome. His tattoos ran all the way down his arms, swirling over his chest, disappearing into places she would rather not think about. He had lean muscle, skin tanned just right, with sharpened features and red eyes that practically glowed. God really did send his toughest soldiers to battle the ugliest temptations. And she was losing. "What’s your name?" he asked. "None of your business." She said trying to put on a stern front. He chuckled again, rolling his shoulders, flexing subtly. The arrogance. The audacity. "You’re beautiful," he said suddenly, studying her. Her stomach did a flip. She ignored it. "Shut up," she grumbled, turning red. "Blue eyes, blonde hair, prefect glowing skin and hair... you’re not from here." "Wow," she deadpanned. "What gave it away?" His smirk deepened. "Fiery. I like that." "I don’t care what you like." Her hands balled into fists. She needed him gone. Now. But then— She made the worst mistake of her life. She looked down. Straight into the crystal-clear water. And saw his reflection. Or rather— Everything. Every. Last. Thing. Every Bit Of Her Own Body. I guess that was the disadvantage of have a clear, clean, perfect, water. Her brain glitched. Her vision whitened. Her soul left her body. "GET OUT!" she screeched, slapping the water so hard it sent a wave splashing into his face. He wiped a hand over his jaw, unbothered. And then, to her horror— He tucked her clothes under his arm. And turned around. And started walking away. "WHERE ARE YOU TAKING MY CLOTHES?!" "Somewhere far," he called back lazily. "BRING THEM BACK!" "No." Her soul shattered. She was stranded. In the middle of the morning. With no clothes. If she stepped out now, he’d probably be waiting in the trees just to laugh at her. Her entire body curled up. She was going to freeze to death. She was going to become a legend. The ghost girl who haunted the lake, forever naked, forever in despair. Her revenge would be great. 20 Minutes Later... The sun climbed higher. The cold seeped into her bones. She hugged herself, shivering violently. She wanted to cry. Her stomach grumbled in betrayal. Just as she was contemplating her entire life, she heard it. Footsteps. Her head snapped up. And there, sauntering back toward her, looking completely relaxed, was him. She braced herself. If he came back to mock her, she was going to hurl a rock at his stupid, perfect face.