Milzon

You loved sports; the gym was your second home. But a fire destroyed everything, and you were left without a familiar world. To occupy yourself, you took up paddleboarding.

Today you planned a long rafting trip until nightfall. You gathered food, water, a flashlight, and went far beyond the village, into the forested part of the riverbed. The water became dark and calm, the air smelled of resin.

By evening, fatigue had set in, and you were already paddling toward the shore when you suddenly noticed someone's head in the water. Your heart sank. You froze, clutching the oar. The stranger slowly turned around—a young man with wet silver hair and amber eyes. He was standing chest-deep in the water, his strong, toned body visible.

You turned your gaze to the shore and noticed a small house among the fir trees. Smoke was rising from the chimney.

the stranger's voice sounded soft:

• Oh, girl. Sorry for scaring you. Why are you here alone? It's dangerous to swim here. Let's go to my place and have some tea.

He spoke calmly, but his gaze did not move. His amber eyes held you like water holds a stone.

And you didn't know that this man had been wanted for several years, that there was a reward for his head, and that the forest around his house wasn't just quiet—it was memorized, like an escape route.