He sat up slowly, the mud sucking at his skin.

His eyes never left Cora's face. He reached out, his massive hands wrapping around her waist, and pulled her hard against his chest. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply.

The sheer force of his grip made Cora's ribs ache. She pushed against his shoulders, but it was useless.

"BEEP! Target lifeform's protective instincts have been triggered. Threat level to host decreased. Reward: Basic Language Translation Module."

A sharp prick of pain hit Cora's temples. Suddenly, the low, guttural sounds rumbling in the man's chest formed into distinct words.

"I owe you my life," his voice was a rough, gravelly rasp against her ear. "You are mine now."

Cora's breath hitched. Her heart pounded a frantic rhythm against her sternum. She opened her mouth to argue, to tell him she belonged to no one, but the words died in her throat.

He didn't wait for an answer. He stood up, hauling her over his broad shoulder like a sack of grain.

Cora gasped as her stomach hit his hard shoulder muscle. She grabbed fistfuls of his thick, dark hair to keep from sliding off.

He started walking. His strides were long and ground-eating.

Cora bounced against his back, her stomach churning with every step. She focused on the translucent blue screen of DAISY, scanning the bizarre, glowing flora they passed, trying to distract herself from the nausea.

A rustle in the canopy above made her flinch.

A beast that looked like a panther with a single, jagged horn leaped from the branches, aiming straight for Cora's exposed back.

The man didn't even break his stride. He reached down, his hand wrapping around the hilt of a bone knife strapped to his thigh. In one fluid, brutal motion, he spun and hurled the blade.

The bone knife sank deep into the beast's skull, pinning it to the trunk of a tree.

He walked over, ripped the blade free, wiped the blood on his own thigh, and kept walking.

Cora stared at the dead beast, her throat dry. This world was a meat grinder, and the man carrying her was the sharpest blade in it.

Hours later, the dense jungle gave way to a massive clearing.

A sprawling settlement of stone huts and massive animal hide tents came into view. Two towering men, holding spears tipped with black stone, stood at the entrance.

When they saw the man carrying Cora, they immediately dropped their heads in submission.

But as they straightened, their eyes locked onto Cora. The submission vanished, replaced by blatant shock and sneering disgust.

The man carrying her felt the shift. A low, vibrating growl ripped from his throat. The guards instantly averted their eyes, their bodies trembling.

He carried her into the heart of the tribe.

The bustling square fell dead silent. Hundreds of eyes turned to them.

The women, dressed in scraps of fur, stared at Cora's small, mud-caked frame. Their lips curled in revulsion. They whispered to each other, their eyes full of contempt for her lack of physical strength.

The men looked at her differently. Their eyes were hungry, stripping her down, assessing her as a weak, easy piece of prey.

The hostility in the air was thick enough to choke on. Cora shrank back, her fingers digging tighter into the man's hair. She felt completely exposed, completely vulnerable.

He felt her fear.

He stopped in the center of the square. His golden eyes narrowed.

Suddenly, a suffocating, invisible weight crashed down on the entire square. The air grew thin. Cora couldn't feel it, but she saw the reaction.

The tribespeople gasped, clutching their chests. Several of the weaker men dropped to their knees, their faces pale with terror.

He was using his spiritual power to crush them into submission.

An old man, leaning heavily on a staff made of a twisted spine, hobbled forward. He looked at the man, his voice shaking but stern. "Jagger. Why do you bring this useless, weak thing into our home? She will only waste our meat."

Jagger. That was his name.

Jagger's jaw clenched. He looked at the old shaman, his voice carrying across the silent square, cold and absolute.

"She is not useless. She is my property."

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.

Cora's face burned hot. She pushed against his back, desperate to tell them it was a misunderstanding, but Jagger's massive hand clamped down over her lower back, holding her firmly in place.

He ignored the shocked whispers and the angry stares, carrying her straight toward the back of the settlement.

Jagger's boots hit the stone path leading away from the square.

"Stop right there, Jagger!"

A shrill, grating voice cut through the tension.

A woman stepped into their path, blocking the way. She wore a skirt made of vibrant, iridescent feathers that caught the sunlight. Her face was painted with aggressive red lines, and her eyes were fixed on Cora with pure, unadulterated hatred.

This was Inell, the tribe leader's daughter.

Cora lifted her head from Jagger's shoulder. The sheer malice radiating from Inell made the hair on her arms stand up.

Inell pointed a manicured finger at Cora. "You brought back a piece of trash from the mud? Look at her. She's pathetic. She smells like a rotting corpse."

Jagger's body went rigid. He slowly lowered Cora to her feet, stepping in front of her, completely shielding her from Inell's view.

"Move, Inell," Jagger warned. His voice was a low, dangerous rumble that vibrated in the air.

Inell flinched, her eyes shining with unshed tears of jealousy. She had thrown herself at Jagger for years, only to be ignored. And now, he was protecting this filthy outsider.

She forced a sickeningly sweet smile onto her face. She snatched a beautifully crafted leather waterskin from one of the women standing behind her.

"I only came to offer you water, Jagger," Inell purred, holding the skin out. "My father sent the sweetest spring water for our strongest warrior."

Jagger didn't even blink. He didn't reach for it. The disgust in his eyes was clear.

Inell's smile tightened. She shifted her gaze to Cora, peeking out from behind Jagger's arm.

"If Jagger won't drink, perhaps your... little pet is thirsty," Inell said, her voice dripping with fake pity. She shoved the waterskin toward Cora. "Drink. You look like you're dying."

Cora stared at the waterskin. Her throat was parched, but something in Inell's eyes felt wrong.

"BEEP! Critical Warning! Liquid contains high concentrations of alien aphrodisiac herbs. Ingestion will cause severe mental disorientation and forced heat."

DAISY's voice screamed in Cora's head.

A cold sweat broke out on the back of Cora's neck. Inell wanted her to drink it. She wanted Cora to lose her mind in front of the entire tribe, to become a spectacle of uncontrollable lust.

Cora's hands trembled as she reached out. Behind her lowered eyelashes, DAISY's interface rapidly scanned the ground beneath them. "Notice: Indigenous 'Blue Flame Grass' detected in stone crevices at 6 o'clock. Chemical property: Reacts violently with alien aphrodisiacs, emitting visible vapor." Cora's mind raced. This wasn't just a trap; it was her chance to turn the tables. She adjusted her footing, calculating the exact angle.

She played the part of the weak, exhausted victim perfectly. Just as her fingertips brushed the leather, she feigned a stumble, intentionally twisting her wrist to knock the waterskin downward at a sharp angle.

The heavy waterskin slipped from her grasp. It didn't just hit the stone. It splashed directly onto the cluster of small, blue-leafed weeds growing in the cracks of the path.

The moment the liquid touched the 'Blue Flame Grass', a violent chemical reaction occurred.

Thick, bright pink smoke hissed up from the weeds, carrying a heavy, sickeningly sweet, musky scent.

Several older hunters in the crowd instantly covered their noses, their eyes widening in shock.

"That's heat-root!" one of them yelled, pointing at the pink smoke. "It's a breeding drug!"

The square erupted into chaos. Every eye turned to Inell. The disgust that had been aimed at Cora was now entirely focused on the Chief's daughter.

Inell's face drained of all color. She stumbled backward, her hands shaking. "I... I didn't know! My servant must have grabbed the wrong skin!"

Jagger didn't care about her excuses.

He lunged. His massive hand wrapped around Inell's throat, lifting her entirely off the ground.

Inell kicked her legs wildly, her hands clawing at his thick forearm. Her face turned a deep, mottled purple as her airway was crushed.

He was going to snap her neck right there.

Cora knew if Jagger killed the Chief's daughter, the entire tribe would turn on him. She grabbed his thick bicep.

"Jagger, stop," she pleaded, her voice shaking.

The warmth of her small hands on his skin seemed to break through his bloodlust. Jagger's golden eyes flicked to Cora. The murderous rage in them dialed back just a fraction.

He threw Inell onto the hard stone path like a piece of garbage.

Inell gasped for air, coughing violently, tears streaming down her face.

Jagger stood over her, his chest heaving. He looked at Inell, then swept his deadly gaze over the rest of the tribe.

"If anyone touches her again," Jagger roared, his voice echoing off the stone huts, "I will slaughter your entire bloodline."

He turned, scooped Cora up into his arms, and walked away, leaving the tribe in stunned, terrified silence.

Jagger carried Cora away from the settlement, heading toward the steep, jagged cliffs at the back of the valley.

The noise of the tribe faded, replaced by the sound of rushing water. Cora let her head rest against his chest. The adrenaline was crashing, leaving her bones feeling like lead.

The path upward was treacherous. It was a near-vertical climb over sharp, loose rocks.

Jagger didn't even breathe hard. He scaled the cliff face with terrifying ease, his arm locked around her waist like an iron band.

Cora made the mistake of looking down. The ground was hundreds of feet below, a dizzying drop that made her stomach lurch. She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face into the crook of his neck, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

Jagger felt her tremble. His throat worked, swallowing hard, and he adjusted his grip, pulling her even tighter against him.

They reached a wide ledge hidden entirely behind a massive, roaring waterfall.

Jagger stepped through the mist. The entrance to the cave was lined with sharpened bone spikes and tripwires-a paranoid, highly lethal defense system.

He navigated the traps with practiced ease and carried her into the dry, cavernous space. Faint, glowing moss illuminated the walls.

He walked to the back of the cave and gently set Cora down on a massive bed made of thick, snow-white furs. His touch was incredibly light, a stark contrast to the violence he had just displayed.

"BEEP! Congratulations. Host has successfully survived and entered a Safe Zone."

"Quest Settlement: Thwarted the malicious female's plot. Reward: High-Tier Survival Loot Box."

Cora's heart leaped, but she kept her face blank. She watched Jagger through her eyelashes as he walked over to a fire pit in the center of the cave.

He struck two dark stones together. Sparks flew, catching the dry moss instantly. The fire flared, casting dancing shadows over his heavily muscled back.

He reached into a pit dug into the stone floor and pulled out a massive, bloody haunch of meat. He used his bone knife to hack off a thick slab, the blood dripping onto the floor.

He walked over and held the raw, dripping meat out to her.

The metallic smell of blood hit Cora's nose. Her stomach violently rejected the idea. She clamped a hand over her mouth and shook her head frantically, pressing herself back against the furs.

Jagger frowned. He looked at the meat, then back at her. He thought she wanted a softer piece. He turned back to the haunch to cut a different slice.

Cora panicked. She pointed at the meat, then pointed at the fire, making a sizzling sound with her teeth.

Jagger stared at her, completely baffled. In his world, only the weak and toothless cooked their meat, burning away the raw energy.

But he looked at her pale face, her desperate eyes, and he sighed. A low, rumbling sigh.

He grabbed a thick stick, impaled the meat, and jammed it into the ground next to the flames.

While his back was turned, Cora mentally screamed at DAISY. Open the loot box!

The virtual box exploded in a shower of golden pixels.

"Items acquired: Earth-grade Appearance Restoration Serum (Oral), Plant-fiber Towel, High-Purity Synthetic Salt (1 jar)."

Cora nearly cried with relief. These were exactly what she needed.

The smell of burning fat filled the cave. Jagger pulled the charred meat from the fire and handed it to her.

It was tough, unseasoned, and tasted like ash, but Cora forced it down. She needed the calories.

When she finished, she looked down at herself. Her hazard suit was torn, caked in mud, dried blood, and the acidic slime from the predator. She felt disgusting.

She looked at Jagger, then mimed scrubbing her arms and pointed toward the back of the cave where the sound of water echoed.

"I need to wash," she pleaded softly. "Please."

Jagger looked at her dirt-smudged face. Something soft flickered in his dangerous gold eyes.

He stood up, his massive frame blocking the firelight. "Come."

He didn't wait for her to stand. He scooped her up again and carried her deeper into the dark tunnels of the cave.