The Serpent King's Unwilling Human Mate

Fallon shoved the giant fern frond out of her face, the rough edge scratching her cheek. "This is so not what I signed up for," she muttered, swatting at a bug buzzing near her ear.

She looked down at her feet, a groan escaping her lips. Her limited-edition Balenciaga sneakers, the ones she waited three months on the waitlist for, were caked in thick, oozing mud. The pristine white leather was ruined, swallowed by the brown sludge that seemed to cover every inch of the forest floor.

"Great. Just great." She pulled her phone from her pocket, the sleek black surface reflecting the dim green light filtering through the canopy. She held it up high, waving it around like a beacon. No signal. Not even a single bar. The little antenna icon just stared back at her, mocking her existence.

"This is all your fault, Chad," she seethed, her voice echoing through the dense trees before being swallowed by the silence. "If I ever get back, I'm keying your Porsche."

Only the rustle of leaves answered her. The tour group was gone. She was alone.

Fallon’s mind raced back to just hours ago—or was it days? She had been in her sleek Manhattan penthouse, editing her latest YouTube video about fall fashion trends. As a top luxury lifestyle influencer with two million followers, her world revolved around designer labels, champagne brunches, and exclusive launch parties. Then Chad, her ex-boyfriend of three years—the one who had dumped her for his “white moonlight” assistant without even a proper goodbye—had texted her about a “spiritual detox” in the woods. She’d reluctantly agreed, mostly to spite him after their messy breakup. But on the drive to the retreat, the sky had turned an unnatural purple, her GPS had glitched, and a blinding flash of light had swallowed her car whole. When she woke up, she was here—face-down in mud, wearing her favorite outfit, with no car, no road, and no cell service. This wasn’t Earth anymore. The trees were too tall, the air too thick, and the silence too… alive. She had somehow fallen into a nightmare realm, a world of monsters and—what else?—beastmen.

She kicked a rotting log, ignoring the squelch of the mud. "'Reconnect with nature with a guided group,' he said. 'It'll be good for your soul,' he said. I hope you step on a Lego every day for the rest of your life."

A sudden gust of wind hit her from behind, carrying a stench so foul it made her eyes water. It smelled like rotting meat left out in the sun, mixed with something metallic and sharp. The hair on the back of her neck stood up instantly, a primal warning screaming in her brain.

Fallon froze. The forest went quiet. No bugs. No birds. Just the sound of her own ragged breathing.

She turned around slowly, her muscles tight with dread. The bushes directly behind her shook violently, the leaves whipping back and forth as if something massive