The footsteps grew louder — a slow, deliberate crunch of sand, like whoever… whatever… approached wanted him to hear it.The moon slipped from behind a cloud, painting the dunes in silver.
From the shadows emerged a tall figure in a black cloak, the hood concealing its face. Yet Arian could feel the gaze — sharp, predatory.
"You've taken the Bond," the figure said in a voice both male and female, like two people speaking in perfect unison. "That means the White Tiger has chosen you."
Arian clenched his fists, still adjusting to the strange energy inside him. "Who are you?"
The figure stepped closer, and the air seemed to grow heavier."I am a Shadow Hunter," it said. "And you are my quarry."
Arian's pulse surged. Instinct roared within him — the tiger's instinct. His vision shifted; he could see the smallest twitch of the figure's fingers, hear the whisper of cloth against skin. Every sense screamed attack.
He resisted. Barely.
The hunter drew two curved blades that shimmered with a dark, oily light. "You will come with me. Alive, preferably."
"Not happening," Arian replied, his voice carrying a new growl beneath it.
The hunter moved first — impossibly fast. But this time, Arian's body responded before his mind could think. He sidestepped, claws erupting from his hands in a burst of white flame. The clash rang out like steel against steel, sparks dancing between them.
"You're faster than I expected," the hunter murmured, unfazed.
"I'm not the prey here," Arian said — and then he struck.
They moved like lightning across the dunes. Sand exploded beneath their feet, the air cracked with every blow and block. Arian could feel the tiger's presence inside him, guiding his strikes, sharpening his reflexes. But with every slash, the hunger grew. The urge to end the fight not with skill… but with teeth.
The hunter seemed to notice. "Careful, tiger-boy. That hunger will eat you alive."
Arian didn't answer. His claws caught the hunter's blade, twisting it free. For a split second, victory was his — until the hunter's other hand flashed, plunging a small black dagger toward his chest.
The tiger's roar erupted inside his head. MOVE!
Arian spun aside, the dagger grazing his ribs. Pain flared, but the wound smoked — as if the weapon was trying to pull something from him.
The hunter stepped back, twirling the dagger. "Ah. So it works. This will be fun."
Arian realized then — this was not just a battle. This was a test. And if he lost, the Bond might be ripped out of him… along with his life.
The wind howled across the dunes, carrying with it the scent of iron and smoke from Arian's wound. His vision pulsed — one moment the desert, the next a blood-red haze.
The White Tiger inside him growled, its voice deep and ancient. Let me out. End this now.
"No," Arian hissed under his breath. "I'm still in control."
The Shadow Hunter tilted their head, almost amused. "Talking to yourself already? The curse moves quickly."
They lunged again, twin blades crossing in a deadly arc. Arian dropped low, sand spraying as he slid under the attack. His claws slashed upward, catching the edge of the hunter's cloak — and tearing it clean. For the first time, he saw the face beneath.
It wasn't human.Skin pale as bone, eyes like shards of obsidian, and markings carved into the flesh that seemed to writhe in the moonlight.
"You…" Arian breathed. "What are you?"
"Your future," the hunter replied coldly.
The words hit like a blow. Then came another — literal this time — as the hunter's boot connected with Arian's chest, sending him tumbling down the slope of a dune. He rolled, dug his claws into the sand, and stopped himself just as a blade stabbed the ground where his head had been.
The tiger inside surged forward, shattering his restraint. White light flared in his eyes. His body twisted — bones stretching, muscles knotting — until fur bristled across his arms and his jaw elongated into a snarl.
Half-man, half-tiger.
The hunter hesitated for a fraction of a second — and that was all Arian needed. He launched forward, the sand exploding under his feet, claws aiming for the hunter's throat.
Steel met claw in a blinding flash. Sparks rained down. The hunter's arms shook under the force, boots sliding back.
"You're… stronger than the last one," the hunter admitted. "Maybe you can survive the First Hunt."
"What hunt?" Arian growled.
The hunter didn't answer — instead, they hurled a smoke bomb at the ground. Black mist swallowed the desert, choking the air. Arian's ears caught a faint retreating sound… and then nothing.
The silence was deafening.
The tiger inside purred with satisfaction. Next time, we finish it.
Arian exhaled slowly, the transformation receding. But as his claws faded, his hands trembled. Not from fear — but from the lingering hunger to kill.
Somewhere beyond the dunes, the Shadow Hunter was watching. Waiting.
And the First Hunt had only just begun.
The desert night grew colder.Arian stood still, the last traces of smoke curling away into the stars. His breath came in slow, controlled waves, but his pulse thundered like war drums.
Every instinct screamed at him to chase the hunter — to follow their scent, to rip through the darkness until nothing remained. But the human part of him… the fragile part still clinging to reason… forced him to stay.
If I follow now, I'll lose myself.
The sand beneath his boots shifted. He glanced down and saw it — a small obsidian token half-buried where the hunter had vanished. Strange carvings spiraled across its surface, almost alive.
He picked it up.
A searing pain shot up his arm, so sudden and sharp that he almost dropped it. For an instant, his vision blurred, showing him flashes:— a black citadel under a blood-red moon— cages filled with beasts that were once human— and a circle of hunters chanting in a language older than the desert itself.
The vision snapped away. Arian gasped.
Somewhere in the wind, a whisper coiled around his mind:"You cannot run from the Hunt."
He clenched the token in his fist. "Then let them come."
From the ridge behind him, a shadow shifted — unseen, watching. And far to the east, deep within the desert, drums began to beat.
The First Hunt had officially begun.
Arian slipped the obsidian token into his jacket pocket, its heat still searing his skin like a burning coal. Every step felt heavy—not from exhaustion, but from the shadow of the vision that clung to his mind.
Far in the distance, the jagged line of the mountains shimmered under the moonlight. Somewhere within them, he knew, lay the truth… or a trap far deadlier than anything he had faced.
Suddenly, the sand to his right began to tremble, as if something were crawling just beneath the surface. Arian held his breath, sharpening his hearing.
A hiss.
From beneath the sand erupted a massive serpent-like creature, its black scales glistening, its eyes glowing a venomous yellow. Its breath smelled of blood and iron.
Arian felt the heat in his veins — the first sign of the transformation. His heartbeat quickened, claws nearly forming. But he knew: every time he transformed, he drifted closer to losing his humanity.
The creature hissed again, but this time its voice echoed inside his mind:"White Tiger heir… your scent is known. They are coming."
Before he could respond, the serpent dove back into the sand, leaving behind a streak of heat that quickly faded.
Arian gripped the token tighter. The desert wind began to howl, carrying with it a strange scent — human, laced with the metallic tang of weapons.
He had no time left.
With one deep breath, Arian sprinted toward the mountains. His footsteps shattered the stillness, and in the darkness beyond, countless unseen eyes began to follow.
The hunt had begun, and that night, the desert no longer belonged to men.