Chapter 2

Dappled light from the fiery sunset filtered through the dense forest canopy, casting eerie shadows on the forest floor. A severe storm was coming, and the nearby animals knew it from their lack of calls and movements, in preparation for the worst.

Only the sounds of heavy thuds of his hooves as he stalked through the underbrush of his makeshift trail filled the air.

He had been tracking an intruder for hours now, and every instinct screamed at him to protect his territory.

The neighboring lycan pack who lived across the lake enjoyed their full moon games, which included racing around the secluded body of water or swimming to the lonely isle.

He would've ignored such an intrusion, for he had a mutual deal with the Lone Lake Pack about traveling amongst one another's territory, but it was too soon for their nocturnal festivities and there was a lack of howling and growls in the air.

Suddenly, shrill cries reverberated through the woods, followed by a skittering rush of small animals fleeing in terror. The nearby landslide—a thunderous crash and rustling bushes—caused even birds to take flight, squawking a cacophony of alarm while darkening the sky with their sheer number.

An avalanche?

No…something else.

His nostrils flared as he picked up a scent: strong, pungent, akin to skunk but...different. It was then he realized—it was fear; primal fear that only surfaced in one's darkest nightmares, an unpleasant tang that made his lips curl back in a low growl. The scent was foreign, not of the usual woodland prey he was accustomed to hunting—or a monster that he'd come across, yet horribly familiar.

"Who dares enter my domain?" he growled under his breath, his voice low and gravelly. "These are my parts—and rightfully so—and no creature or pack will dare claim it."

As Monte pushed aside a curtain of tangled vines and stepped through the underbrush with his axe in hand, the sight before him caught him off guard. Lying amidst broken ferns and fallen leaves, beside his trail, was a female human. Her fair skin was marred by cuts and bruises, with one leg twisted weirdly under her body.

Golden hair fanned out around her head like a halo. Crimson blood seeped from gashes on her pale arms and legs, staining the mossy ground. Her breathing was ragged, punctuated by soft whimpers of agony. She needed help, immediately, or she would surely die here in this unforgiving wilderness.

Monte's muscles tightened, his large frame becoming still and tense. His grip on his axe squeezed, his jaw clenched as a low growl rumbled in his throat.

What was a human doing here? This was no place for their kind.

Grumbling under his breath, Monte placed his axe down, knowing he would be able to return later for it, and approached slowly, hooves crunching on the carpet of leaves and twigs. "Foolish human."

She glanced at him and tried to move but winced and cried out, fingers clenched into fists around handfuls of the forest floor.

Her hazel eyes began to flood as she clamped them shut and jerked her head from his direction, as if to protect herself.

Grunting, perplexed by her antics, he crouched next to her, his enormous frame dwarfing her small body. Gingerly, he reached out a thick, callused hand to brush a few strands of blonde hair away from her face.

"Easy now," Monte said as he tried to make his deep voice sound as reassuring as possible. "I won't hurt you."

The woman's hazel eyes flickered open, and she recoiled, fear etched in their depths. She tried to scramble away, gasping as a wave of pain hit her, but Monte placed a firm hand on her shoulder to keep her still.

His eyes scanned her being, noting the blood seeping through her muddy clothes from a wound on her side and her swollen ankle. Scratches marred her delicate skin, and leaves and twigs were stuck in her hair.

"Human," Monte rumbled. "What happened?"

"D-don't hurt me," she rasped desperately as she shrank back weakly. "Please..."

"Hold still." His gruff voice carried an undertone of gentleness as his heart twisted at the sight. "I will not harm you, human."

She blinked up at him, her golden speckled eyes were wide and glassy with tears. They darted back and forth, tense with panic. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, causing her blood-soaked shirt to cling to her form. Her brows were furrowed as every inch of her body trembled with fear.

"I am going to help you." He let out a large huff and frowned. "There's a storm a brewin', and the night is still young. You cannot stay here in the forest while darkness falls upon us. I will take you somewhere safe."

Monte paused, unsure of what to do next. He had never encountered a human before and was not familiar with them. But he could not simply leave her here to suffer alone, especially on his land.

The human female stared at him, distrust and desperation warring on her battered face. She watched with wary eyes as he scooped her into his burly arms as if she weighed nothing.

"Don't…" She gasped out, trying weakly to push him away. "I can…walk."

He ignored her weak protests because he knew she couldn't.

"Don't be foolish. Be still, human," he murmured, cradling her securely against his broad chest. "I have you now."

With great care, he adjusted his grip, making sure she was comfortable against his chest before continuing through the dense foliage.

She tensed, clutching at his fur with weak fingers as he carried her down his trail toward his lakeside cabin.

"Thank you," she whispered weakly, her eyes flickering closed as she rested her head against his chest. "I cannot repay your kindness. Just… please don't eat me."

Monte grunted in response, shaking his head at her weird comment, focusing on navigating through the thorny bushes and uneven ground of his makeshift trail. The storm was getting closer, the sky growing dark and rumbling with thunder.

Foolish human.

Why would she think he would want to eat her? Was that what humans thought monsters did?

He huffed, unable to believe it. How was there a human in his land?

Humans were just recently allowed onto Monster Island, and he had thought it would've taken a few months, perhaps even years, before any were advantageous enough to come this deep into the mainland.

Regardless of the reason, there was something about holding the female in his arms that unlocked a protective instinct within him that he didn't know had existed—until now. He didn't know if it was because he'd never touched a female before, especially never having the opportunity to hold one in his arms.

Female minotaurs were as brutish—and perhaps even more aggressive and territorial than males—and one didn't grab their attention unless they wanted to fight or mate.

And yet, here he was, holding this fragile creature in his arms, all bruised and broken.

He felt like he was carrying an injured bird, and it was his job to nurse her back to health and let her go on her way.

Grazing down at her, the way her face winced and her hands scrunched with every step made him feel guilty.

The last thing he wanted to do was to cause her any more harm than he already had. He was determined to provide her with shelter and warmth, giving her the aid she needed, so she could return to whatever her task was doing.

He'd hoped her presence wasn't a sign that humans were invading the Monster Island, wanting to claim the wild and untamed—and mostly untouched—land as their own.

Monte's heavy hooves crunched through the underbrush as he carried the injured woman, traveling at a steady, yet quick pace, navigating along his path with ease, in hopes to beat the storm.

It reminded him that with every step he took, no matter the distance or how careful he was, made her wince and whimper in pain.

Her shallow breaths tickled the fur on his chest, a constant reminder of her dire condition. His mind raced, already cataloging her numerous injuries and what he would need to tend them.

Monsters were known for their self-healing capabilities, some like the lycans, were enhanced whenever there was a new moon. There wasn't a need for a healing kit, outside of life-threatening emergencies, which required the nearby healer.

Unfortunately, for the both of them, her sprained ankle paired with the other cuts and wounds were considered major injuries, and he had no knowledge of how to mend her outside the basic medical treatment.

He needed to make sure she survived the night, then he could request the Lone Lake Pack to send a healer to aid her.

His teeth clenched in frustration as he quickened his pace, his powerful legs eating up the distance.

Today was supposed to be a normal day, just like any other. He was scouting his land for the fallen tree limbs—or those that needed trimming—to use for future projects, not wanting to chop any trees down if he could prevent it, unless they were decaying or damaged.

Now, he was carrying this broken and frail female human, who had somehow ended up not only on Monster Island, but had also traversed into his land.

Finally, his cabin came into view, a sturdy structure of rough-hewn logs nestled among the towering evergreens, with a wraparound porch overlooking the peaceful lake.

Monte climbed the steps, careful not to jostle her. Using one hand, he pushed open the heavy wooden door with a thunk and ducked inside.

The interior was rustic—open and well-maintained—with a large stone fireplace dominating one wall, the focal point of the cabin. Monte strode past the kitchen area and toward the oversized couch that faced the hearth. Gently, he lowered the female onto the plush cushions—not caring if her blood would stain the fabric, he could replace them—his hands trembling slightly as he released her.

She moaned softly, her eyelids fluttering. Monte knelt beside the couch, his heart clenching at the sight of her battered face and torn clothing. Up close, her injuries looked even worse, the bruises vivid against her pale skin under the cabin's warm lighting.

"You're safe now," he rumbled, his deep voice echoing in the quiet cabin. "I'll take care of you."

The woman's hazel eyes opened, hazy with pain and confusion as they darted about. When they finally landed on him, her mouth opened slightly as her gaze roamed over his horns and fur-covered body. He braced himself for her fear, her revulsion…for her to snap out of her haze and injure herself further.

But instead, she sighed and closed her eyes, instantly relaxing as she hoarsely whispered, "Thank you."

Something warm and unfamiliar bloomed in Monte's chest. He swallowed hard, nodding jerkily. "Rest now, you're safe. I need to assess your wounds."

His large hands hovered over her, suddenly unsure where to start. He took a deep breath, ignoring the skunk stench as he tried to recall what little he knew of human first aid.

"Don't move." Monte reached for the hem of her ripped shirt, then hesitated. "I...I need to remove this," he said awkwardly, knowing how bashful humans were when it came to nudity. "To see the extent of your injuries, so I can stop the bleeding."

The woman weakly opened her eyes and held his gaze for a long moment then nodded once. Either she was brave, or too weak to protest—perhaps even both. Regardless, Monte was relieved that he didn't need to try to convince her that he was trying to save her and not eat her—or whatever humans believed monsters like him enjoyed doing to them.

Carefully, Monte peeled the tattered fabric away from her skin, his fingers gentle despite their size. She hissed in pain as the material stuck to a particularly nasty gash on her side.

"I'm sorry," Monte murmured, wincing in sympathy. The wound looked deep and angry, still seeping blood. He would need to clean and stitch it closed.

As he examined her other injuries—the bruises on her ribs, the swollen ankle, the lump on her head—Monte felt a simmering anger rising beneath his concern. Who had done this to her? Why was she alone in the forest, hurt and vulnerable?

And why did she stink like a skunk?

He tamped down his questions, focusing on the task at hand. The woman watched him through half-lidded eyes, her breaths growing steadier as she relaxed as he worked. Carefully maneuvering around her injuries, Monte managed to get her out of her ripped clothes, leaving her in her undergarments.

Monte knew better than to attempt to remove those too, regardless how soiled they were, knowing how humans were with nudity—especially females. The last thing he wanted was to make the situation any worse than it was and figured he could wait until he called the Lone Lake Pack for a healer. He would request assistance from a female healer in bathing and dressing his injured guest as well as purchase fresh clothing from the pack for her.

"I will fetch water and my first aid kit." Monte rose to his hooves. "First, let me light the fire, and I'll be back. I promise."

Monte took a step back, his eyes lingering on the woman's injured form.

"Thank you," the female mumbled, her gaze flickering over his sharp horns and furry tail.

"You're welcome," he replied gruffly before he turned away to start a fire in the fireplace.

Once the fire was crackling, he grabbed some bandages and the limited medical supplies from his first aid kit under his mudroom's sink.

The sudden flash of lightning illuminated the dark sky outside the cabin followed by a deafening boom of thunder. Sheets of rain poured down, shadowy outlines of tree branches scraping against the windows. The torrential rain hammered down on the roof, distorting the sight beyond the windows and putting a curtain between them and the outside world, adding to the sense of chaos.

Monte returned swiftly, his arms laden with a basin of warm water, clean cloths, and a rudimentary first aid kit. Setting everything down on the low table beside the couch, he knelt once more at the female's side.

Dipping a cloth into the water, Monte began to clean the wounds with gentle dabs, his brow furrowed in concentration. She hissed as the cloth made contact with a particularly deep cut, her body tensing.

"Shh," Monte soothed, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. "I know it hurts, but I must clean these properly."

The human nodded, gritting her teeth as Monte continued his work. With great focus, he kept his touch gentle yet firm as he wiped away the blood and grime.

As he cleaned the wounds, Monte found himself studying her face, taking in her delicate features and the way her blonde hair fanned out against the decorative pillow. She was beautiful, he realized, with a strength and resilience that shone through despite her injuries.

Shaking himself mentally, Monte focused on applying antiseptic to the wounds. He couldn't afford to be distracted by such thoughts, not when her well-being depended on him.

"Why are you helping me?" the female asked suddenly, her voice hoarse. "You don't even know me."

Monte paused and tilted his head, considering his answer. "You were in need," he said simply. "I could not leave you to suffer."

"But you're..." She trailed off, her eyes flickering to his horns and fur-covered body.

"A monster?" Monte finished, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Perhaps. But even monsters have hearts." He flicked his gaze to hers, hoping she could see the sincerity in his eyes. "I would've been one if I'd left you behind in the condition that I found you in, don't you agree?"

"You're right," she whispered, frowning as her eyebrows furrowed. "What's your name?"

"Monte," he replied, flicking his ears back with embarrassment.

"And you live in the mountains?"

"Where else are we?" Monte snorted and with a damp cloth in hand, gestured to the torrential rainstorm outside and then at her. "What's yours?"

"Kiri."

"Yours isn't that much better." Then Monte cleared his throat and placed the soiled rag into the basin. "Anyway, now that we know each other's names, I need to stitch this wound," he said, gesturing to the gash on her side. "It will be painful, but it must be done."

Kiri took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Do it," she said, her voice firm despite the pain. "I trust you."

Those three simple words sent a weird warm flutter through Monte's chest, but he pushed the feeling to the side, focusing on the task at hand. He nodded, threading a needle with steady hands.

As he began to stitch the wound, Monte marveled at Kiri's strength and bravery. She barely flinched, even as the needle pierced her skin, her trust in him unwavering as she watched him, studied him.

"How did you learn to do this?" Kiri asked, as if she was trying to distract herself from the pain.

"Bit of a story there," Monte murmured as he concentrated on his task, the warm light from the overhead wooden rustic chandelier illuminating his work. His hands moved with precision, threading the needle through her skin with practiced ease.

Each pull of the thread was a testament to his skill, quietly assuring Kiri she was in capable hands. He watched her reactions with each pass. The last thing he wanted was to cause her pain by pressing too hard, poking too deep, or working too swiftly.

But to his surprise, she had turned her head and kept her gaze at the window, focusing on the storm outside. Her face stoic, the only movement was a brief flutter twitch on her cheek whenever he made a new prick.

"It's something you learn hands on over the years," Monte finally replied, his brow furrowed in concentration as he continued to work. "Especially when there are accidents. I've had to help out the local Lycan pack from time to time."

Kiri's hazel eyes widened slightly at the mention of the Lycans. "You helped them?"

He grunted an affirmation, not looking up from his task. "When a large storm causes sudden damage…We minotaurs...we're good at lifting heavy things." He let out a gruff chuckle at that. "Falling trees and limbs mostly. I'd clear what damage I could."

He flickered his gaze onto her face briefly, checking to see if she was okay, then returned to his work. "When I wasn't playing lumberjack, I'd assist the local healers." With the last stitch secured, he wiped away a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead with the back of his hand. "Got my medical lessons from them."

"Are storms frequent here?"

"Sometimes we get storms." His brow furrowed at the question as he reached for a roll of bandages with one hand while the other gingerly applied an herbal salve onto the newly stitched wound. "Very rarely do we get big ones that take down trees—and homes."

"I guess the mountain ridge protects this area, huh?" Kiri blinked as if contemplating his words. "How often do you help others? What local monsters are there?"

"Often enough." Monte shrugged self-consciously, feeling odd speaking about himself. "What about you? How does a human like you end up this deep on Monster Island?"

"I was hired by a firm..." Kiri paused, her hazel eyes meeting his. Her gaze held a hint of defiance, a lick of challenge. "To create content about the monsters on Monster Island to get humans to visit."

"A job?" Monte's brow rose at her words, his hands pausing momentarily from spreading the healing balm on her last wound. "What kind of job has you wandering in storms and falling off cliffs?"

He had known that humans were starting to visit the island, but he didn't expect one to venture so far from the safety of their landing sites.

He was curious, but also wary at the thought of more humans on the island. It wasn't that he disliked humans; rather, the idea of his peaceful sanctuary possibly becoming overrun with them felt like an intrusion.

Kiri chuckled lowly, her fingers tracing small circles on the rough blanket covering the back of the couch. "I'm a content creator," she said, her voice soft and filled with amusement. "Fancy term for ‘someone who posts things on social media to get people to buy stuff.' My firm wants to create a campaign about Monster Island."

His nostrils flared; her mention of social media seemed foreign, unorthodox even. She was from a different world—a digital one that he didn't follow. But this was part of his world now—helping humans understand them without the fear and prejudice that had maintained distance for generations.

One that somehow made them have the ridiculous idea that they ate humans.

"I see. They want humans to see that monsters are not so monstrous, huh?" His voice was rough, his gaze focused on her injury as he tried to process this new information. "You're saying they want to turn this place into a...tourist attraction?"

Kiri laughed, a sound like a wind chime that echoed within the cabin. "Something like that...They want to show that monsters can be friendly and welcome human visitors." Kiri nodded, her teeth worrying at her lower lip. Her hand reached out hesitantly, fingertips brushing along his fur-covered wrist. "They want to show that cohabitation is possible."

An unexpected warmth shot through him from her touch, causing him to suck in a deep breath. His heart pounded in his chest at her words, his gaze dropping onto the stitched wound on her side. "And they sent you here alone? Into the unknown?"

His dark brown fur bristled at her words. Cohabitation? He couldn't imagine what that would look like, how it would change his world. Monte had always kept to himself, preferring the solace and orderliness of his forest home to living within society. The brief trips to Lone Lake Pack's village were enough socializing for him for a long time.

Jasper was the only monster he interacted with often—almost daily—and that was only because he was the local mail gargoyle.

Other than that, he kept to himself and lived off the land for a long time.

Monte felt a twinge in his gut. This was not the world he wanted for himself or his fellow monsters. He found himself wishing for simpler times when the island was unknown to mankind.

But then he wouldn't have had the opportunity to sell his carvings and wooden furniture to a larger audience…or meet Kiri.

And being touched as freely as she was doing…would've never happened.

What was happening to him?

Her strong gaze softened as she nodded slowly. "Seems foolish when you say it like that," she admitted with a slight sigh.

Monte felt an odd sense of admiration toward her bravery and determination. Here she was, injured and far from home yet still had the heart to laugh. His large hand, rough with calluses, gently squeezed hers.

"Bloody brave is what it is," he grumbled as he finished what felt like hours of stitching and bandaging wounds, finally standing with a satisfied nod. "There, all done," he said with a small smile as he tied off the bandage around her ankle with nimble care. "That should hold, but you'll need to rest and let it heal."

Kiri nodded, exhaustion settling over her features. "Thank you once again," she whispered, her eyelids growing heavy. "For everything."

Monte found himself rooted to the spot, his heart thudding in his chest at the unexpected warmth that flooded him, some unrecognizable emotion at her gratitude.

What was happening to him? Was this some witchcraft? This injured and fragile human female had somehow placed a spell on him, making him feel things he'd never felt before.

He hesitated and merely nodded, tugging at the corners of his lips in a rare soft smile. "You're welcome," he rumbled, then turned and lumbered toward one of his storage rooms to fetch every blanket and the softest pillows he could find—the best he had to offer.

Sifting through an assortment of oddments, dust motes lazily dancing around him under the room's lighting, he unearthed several blankets—thickly woven, soft on one side with a velvety texture that was gifted to him by the Lone Lake Pack's Luna for all the work he'd done for them. He also picked up a couple of the fluffiest pillows he owned on the way out.

Arms laden with soft furnishings, Monte returned to Kiri's side.

Monte moved slowly, carefully tucking one blanket around Kiri's prone form before arranging the pillows to support her injured ankle. His hands moved with meticulous care as he made sure she was comfortable.

Once she was nestled amidst the cozy nest he'd created, Monte stepped back, taking a moment to notice that sleep had claimed her.

Her eyes had fluttered closed, her breaths even and deep. Scanning her peaceful face, he took note that even with the bruises blossoming under her skin, there was an allure about her that he couldn't quite put a name to.

As he watched her face lose its strain and relax in slumber, he realized the feeling he had was coming from her—she'd given him a sense of purpose and connection he hadn't felt from someone.

How could this be?

For all his initial gruffness and reticence, somehow this brave woman had touched a part of him that he thought long buried beneath layers of hurt and loneliness.

"Monte," she mumbled softly while slumber still held her captive. Her hand reached out blindly, fingers brushing against the rough fur of his arm before latching onto his hand. Her grip was soft, weak from exhaustion yet determined. "Don't go."

The touch froze him in place like a deer in a beam of light, surprised by its suddenness. Her request hung heavily in the silent room. He looked down at their intertwined fingers; her small, delicate hand contrasted greatly with his large, callus-ridden one, holding on with a quiet desperation that echoed through his own heart.

He didn't pull away.

Monte's expression softened, and he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. "Sleep now," he murmured. "You're safe here."