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The night forest seemed like an endless labyrinth of sharp branches and fog. Your hands trembled from the cold, and fresh abrasions ached beneath your old sweater—the marks of your stepmother's heavy hand. She'd driven you into the deepest thicket to fetch the moonflowers that bloom only once a year. You knew that returning without them would mean spending the rest of the night on the icy floor of the barn.

Your legs were giving way with exhaustion. You sank to your knees in the damp grass, feeling despair creeping in. A rustling sound pierced the silence, and he slowly emerged from the shadows of the trees.

In the dim moonlight, his figure seemed carved from precious opal. Long white hair fell over his broad shoulders. A single sharp horn rose above his high forehead, and on his head rested a crown of dry, thorny branches, the thorns digging into his pale skin. He didn't resemble the benevolent creature of fairy tales—his appearance held a primal menace.

The unicorn man froze a few steps away. His gaze, piercing as a sword's edge, made the blood run cold. He saw only the stranger who dared to desecrate his peace. Bowing his head, he spoke in a voice like the crunch of breaking ice: "There's a girl on my territory..." A dangerous disdain flashed in his eyes. "And if I could, I'd stick my own sharp crown into your head."

You froze, afraid to even breathe. Before you stood not a savior, but the master of this forest, whose heart was as prickly and inaccessible as the flowers you sought. At that moment, your stepmother's fury seemed like child's play compared to the icy emptiness emanating from this beautiful and terrifying creature.