"You can't actually see me, Agent. I'm in your head," the voice said again.
"S… Snow?"
"Exactly. How are you holding up, Agent L.?"
"How are you in my head?" I asked, my voice low.
"Duh. We're linked. That means I can communicate with you telepathically. Now—what happened?"
"I pulled… someone—something—out of the water. Helped it to shore. Then a bunch of strong-looking people in cloaks showed up. Now I'm hiding in a cave behind the waterfall."
"These people… or things—what were they like?"
"Well, like I said, cloaked from head to toe. But they were armed—bows, and arrows… golden ones."
"…Golden?"
"Snow, what's wrong? Do you know what they are?"
"For one thing, it's good they didn't see you. Otherwise, you'd already be dead. The second problem…" Snow's voice grew darker. "…is what happens if the thing you dragged out of the water wakes up."
My stomach tightened. "What? Why?"
Snow's voice in my head dropped to a grim edge. "Because, Agent, what you dragged out of that water isn't just some wounded stranger… it's a Catalyst."
The word felt heavy, unfamiliar, but my gut reacted before my mind did. "That doesn't sound good."
"It's not. Catalysts are… dangerous. They change things—people, places—just by existing. And the ones with golden arrows lodged in them? Someone wants them contained. Or dead."
I glanced at the man lying beside me on the rock, his breathing shallow, the arrow still faintly glowing in his shoulder. "If they're hunting him, why didn't they just finish the job?"
"Because a Catalyst wakes on its own time. And when it does…" Snow's voice paused, like he was choosing his next words very carefully. "…it's not always on your side."
My stomach tightened. The water dripping from the cave ceiling echoed louder than it should've, each drop marking time I wasn't sure I had.
"Listen, Agent. You need to make a choice—either leave him here before he wakes… or be ready to face whatever wakes up inside him."
The man groaned.
Too late.
⸻
Sometimes I wished Snow would just skip the long explanations—especially before I'd even had a chance to process them.
Before I could think, I was slammed against the cave's cold, unyielding wall.
A sharp crack echoed from the figure's hand, and I glared, guessing the old bloke had finally decided to wake up.
A low growl rumbled through the air, followed by the sting of something piercing my skin.
Instinct took over. I grabbed his wrist, twisted it hard, and shoved his own weapon toward him. My pulse thundered; I wanted nothing more than to smash his head into the wall. But I stopped, shifting the point of the arrow to where I guessed his neck would be.
"That's not a very nice way of thanking someone," I said, my voice tight as I fought to keep my grip steady.
I knelt on its arm, pinning it down, and yanked the chipped hood away. For the first time in my life, I wished I'd done something sooner.
What stared back at me wasn't just any creature—it was the most beautiful I'd ever seen. Not the "BTS poster" kind of beautiful (because they're all old anyway), but the kind that made stray kids look plain.
Felix-beautiful.
Golden, fluffy wolf ears twitched atop his head, and as the hood fell away, my heart tripped. It was 10K. And it was a guy. His muscles were sculpted perfection, jawline sharp enough to cut glass. His eyes—gosh, those eyes—made me want to stare forever. Golden, animalistic, and impossibly intense, they locked on mine and refused to let go.
I tightened my grip, the tip of my weapon pressing harder against his skin—a signal that I was a threat, even if I was utterly captivated.
"Snow," I thought, "do they speak my language?"
"Of course, Agent," Snow replied, "but it's more like you speak their language."
"You're with them, aren't you?" the beastman rasped, his voice dry and hoarse.
"Do I look like I'm into nature?" I shot back.
He glared at me, and in those golden eyes, I saw it—pure disgust.