Chapter 3: Storm Warning
497words
"No, no, no!" I cried as one corner of the tent ripped free, exposing my carefully organized samples to the elements. I lunged for the flapping material, trying to secure it against the increasingly violent gusts.
"What are you doing here?" a voice boomed behind me, barely audible over the storm.
I whirled around to find Forest Man standing there, his hair plastered to his face by the rain, looking both magnificent and furious. My heart did a little flip despite the dire circumstances.
"Oh! Perfect timing!" I shouted over the wind. "Can you help me grab that rope?"
"Are you out of your mind?" he yelled back. "There's a flash flood warning! This entire area could be underwater in minutes!"
"I know, but my research—" I gestured desperately toward my tent where months of work was getting soaked.
A blinding flash of lightning struck a nearby tree with a deafening crack. I watched in horror as a massive branch broke free, plummeting toward me. Before I could even process what was happening, something solid slammed into me, knocking me to the ground.
For a moment, all I could register was the weight of Forest Man's body shielding mine, the branch crashing down mere inches from where we lay. His body was radiating heat despite the cold rain, and I could feel his heart pounding against my chest—or was that mine?
"Are you okay?" I gasped, looking up into his face.
That's when I saw it—his eyes had changed. Instead of forest green, they were now a brilliant gold, with vertical pupils like a wolf's. I stared, transfixed, certain I wasn't imagining it.
He seemed to realize what was happening and quickly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were back to normal.
"You need to leave this place," he said, his voice rough as he rolled off me.
I sat up, my mind racing with questions, but when I tried to stand, a sharp pain shot through my ankle. "Ouch!" I winced, looking down to see it was already swelling.
Forest Man noticed too. He cursed under his breath, looking from my injured ankle to the worsening storm, clearly weighing his options.
"I can't leave you here," he finally said, the words sounding as if they'd been dragged out of him.
"I don't think I can walk," I admitted, trying to keep the pain out of my voice.
Without another word, he bent down and scooped me into his arms. I gasped in surprise at the ease with which he lifted me.
"What are you doing?" I asked, instinctively wrapping my arms around his neck for stability.
"Saving your life, apparently," he muttered. "My cabin isn't far. You can wait out the storm there."
