The royal hunt was supposed to be a test of skill, a moment of quiet tension between predator and prey. But when a tiger escapes into the woods—heading straight toward Yue—will this game turn deadly?
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The thunder of galloping hooves and urgent shouts filled Yue's ears as the guards rushed toward the northern creek.
The forest was in turmoil—birds burst from the trees in a frantic flurry, their high-pitched cries echoing all around.
Leaves spun wildly in the wind, as if swept up by an unseen storm.
"A tiger…" Yue whispered to herself, gripping her reins so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
Her heart was pounding in her chest, louder than the noise of the shouting around her.
Emperor Li Zhao turned to her sharply, his voice breaking through the chaos—clear and commanding.
"Go back with the guards!"
She nodded, although she felt a strange tightness clutching at her chest.
Yet, before he could finish his command, another loud, primal screech erupted—closer now.
It was a fearsome sound, piercing through everything.
Behind the trees, something enormous was moving, snapping branches and pushing through the air.
Her horse reared in fear, letting out a panicked whinny, its hooves striking wildly at the air.
Yue clung to the reins, but the horse had already decided to flee. Panic took control.
The world tilted.
"Yue!"
She heard the Emperor call, but the sound vanished in the midst of breaking branches and the overwhelming noise of hooves pounding the forest floor.
Branches whipped against her face. Bark scratched her arms through her sleeves. The wind tugged at her hair, the ground blurred beneath the horse's frantic sprint.
The reins scorched her hands, offering no control against the terrified animal's flight.
She shouted, tried to pull back, attempted anything to calm the horse, but it was beyond listening—its eyes wide with fear, foam dripping from its mouth.
They veered off the trail, plunging deeper into the dense forest where light barely penetrated the thick canopy.
A root snagged the horse's hoof, almost sending them tumbling—but the mare regained its balance, then began to slow, panting heavily.
Yue seized her chance. She pulled on the reins with all her strength, forcing the horse to a sudden stop.
The abrupt halt threw her forward.
She scrambled down from the saddle and landed heavily, her boots slipping on loose stones.
She staggered, catching herself against a tree trunk—the rough bark digging into her palms.
Her chest heaved with every breath. Sweat trickled down her face. Her whole body was tense, her heartbeat loud in her ears.
She looked around, the air was calm.
The forest had fallen into a dead, watchful silence. Even the birds had vanished.
A low, rumbling sound rolled through the trees.
Yue froze. It wasn't the wind.
A deep growl was heard.
She turned slowly, cautiously.
Then she saw them—two glowing eyes, fixed on her without blinking, staring from the shadows between the tangled branches.
The tiger stepped forward, one deliberate paw at a time. Its movements were fluid and quiet, muscles rippling beneath golden fur marked with bold, dark stripes.
Each step disturbed the undergrowth, but no sound came from its body—it moved like a phantom woven from fire and shadow.
Blood smeared its muzzle—fresh, dark, and sticky.
She couldn't be sure if it belonged to a guard, a horse, or something worse.
Its eyes locked onto hers, and Yue felt an icy certainty course through her—
She was the prey.
Yue took a step back, her breathing quick and her heart pounding so loudly she could hardly think.
All she could see were the fierce amber eyes and hear the low growl that seemed to shake her from the inside.
She reached for the small hunting knife at her belt.
Her fingers brushed against its leather handle, but she knew it was too small to help her now. It was no match for the danger she faced.
Every instinct told her to run, but she couldn't move. It was as if the ground held her in place, refusing to let her escape.
The tiger lowered itself even more. Its tail flicked once, then again.
Under its striped fur, muscles tensed, and its mouth opened slightly, showing long, yellow fangs dripping with saliva.
Yue sensed the tension in its body, ready to strike at any moment.
Time seemed to stretch, making a single second feel endless.
Then everything happened at once.
She heard the sound of hoofbeats approaching, felt a rush of air, and a loud shout pierced the stillness.
"YUE!" The voice was as loud and powerful as thunder.
Emperor Li Zhao burst onto the scene, like a storm crashing through the forest.
He charged into the clearing on his black horse with incredible force. The horse reared up, its hooves swinging close to the tiger's face.
In one brave motion, the Emperor leaped off his horse.
His armor reflected the light, and his dark robes flew behind him like wings.
He collided with Yue just as the tiger leaped, knocking her to the ground.
The impact forced the breath from her lungs as he shielded her with his body.
Then there was a deafening roar.
The tiger came down with claws like curved blades, ready to strike them.
But Li Zhao was already on his feet, his sword flashing as he drew it out.
With a strong, sweeping motion, he struck the tiger's shoulder, cutting deep into its muscle.
The tiger screamed in fury, jerking back—but not quickly enough.
Its claws raked across Li Zhao's side in a savage swipe.
Blood spattered across his robe, turning the fabric deep red in an instant. Yue caught the sharp, metallic scent of blood.
He staggered but didn't fall, didn't show any fear.
He stood firm, remaining between Yue and the tiger.
His sword was raised, his jaw clenched, his eyes hard and determined.
Yue gazed at him in awe.
At this moment he wasn't just the Emperor.
He was the person who, without hesitation,
put himself between her and danger.
The tiger, though wounded, was still dangerous, circling close.
But then, a sharp whistle pierced the air, cutting through the trees.
Sounds of horses' hooves echoed from the trail, growing louder.
The royal guards surged into the clearing like a powerful wave, weapons ready, faces set with determination.
They moved quickly and precisely, creating a loose circle around the tiger, their swords glinting in the forest light.
"Protect the Emperor!"
"Surround the beast!"
Cries filled the air. Bows snapped. A shower of arrows flew like serpents through the trees.
The tiger, wounded and furious, growled and turned to escape—but it was already too late.
An arrow struck deep in the tiger's chest.
With a violent jerk and a pained growl, the tiger collapsed.
The ground seemed to shake as its body hit with a final, heavy thud.
Then—silence. Yue couldn't hear her own breath. Her ears rang. Her body refused to move, frozen where she had fallen.
She realized she was shaking only when Li Zhao turned to her.
His face was pale, etched with pain, sweat shining on his brow. Blood had soaked through his robe, spreading in dark, jagged lines.
Yet, his eyes focused solely on her. Not on his wound. Not on the fallen tiger. Not on the guards surrounding them.
Just her.
He knelt beside her with a groan, one hand on his bleeding side, the other reaching toward her shoulder to keep them grounded in that moment.
"You're safe," he said, his voice rough and uneven from the fight.
Yue looked up at him, fear crashing over her like a wave she could barely withstand.
Her hand moved without thinking to his side, pressing against the torn fabric, feeling the warm blood on her palm.
"You're hurt—!"
He caught her wrist—not to stop her, but to steady her.
His touch was warm, his fingers gentle despite the battle they had just faced.
"You're alive," he murmured quietly, his eyebrows drawn low.
"That's all that matters."
Their eyes locked.
For a moment, the forest sounds faded—the rustling leaves, the guards' whispers, even the pain surely burning in his side.
Everything seemed to disappear in the space between them.
Yue's chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. She felt his warmth through the robe, the tremble under his strength, the way his fingers still held her wrist, as if fearing she might vanish.
She hadn't realized how close he was until now.
His face was inches from hers.
She saw the dirt smudge on his cheek, the way his lashes cast shadows under tired eyes, the flicker of something deeper—concern, yes, but also something unspoken.
Her mouth opened slightly to speak, to say thank you, or why, or don't be reckless—but no words came.
He leaned in, just barely—a breath away.
His gaze dropped to her lips.
Her heart skipped a beat.
"Your Majesty," a guard shouted, rushing over.
"We must return to camp. The wound—it's deep."
The moment broke like a snapped thread.
Li Zhao let her wrist go. He exhaled, straightened, and his familiar firm look returned.
"I'm fine," he said, though his strained voice showed otherwise.
"Help Lady Yue onto a horse."
Yue still knelt beside him, her hand stained red with his blood, her heartbeat loud in her ears.
He slowly rose to his feet, using one blood-covered hand to push himself up from the ground.
"Your Majesty—" Yue tried to help as he stumbled.
Despite her efforts, his legs buckled.
The Emperor fell into her arms, unconscious, while the red stain on his clothes spread rapidly.
"Call the physician!"