The low crackle of the wind outside the cave was the only sound that filled the silence after Lazarus's rumbling laughter subsided. Mahnoor remained in his lap, her small frame dwarfed by his enormous, muscled body. She sat stiffly against him, her mind spinning with questions, her body on edge with fear and uncertainty. The softness of the makeshift bed beneath her provided little comfort now that she found herself trapped in the grip of this creature.
Lazarus's deep golden eyes remained fixed on her, his expression unreadable as he watched her closely, as though waiting for her to speak, to react. His hand stayed possessively on her lower back, his grip strong but not painful, keeping her locked in place.
After what felt like an eternity, Lazarus broke the silence. His voice was low, almost lazy, as though he wasn't in the least concerned about the tension in the air.
"Tell me your name, human."
His question sent a shiver through her. The way he spoke, so casual and yet so commanding, left no room for refusal. Mahnoor swallowed hard, her throat dry as she forced herself to respond, her voice barely a whisper.
"Mahnoor."
Lazarus's lips curved into a satisfied smirk, his sharp teeth glinting faintly in the dim light. He leaned back slightly against the cave wall, his hand moving from her back to rest lightly on her hip. His other paw-like hand rested against his own knee, giving him a more relaxed posture, though there was nothing relaxed about the intense gaze he kept on her.
"Mahnoor..." he repeated, rolling the name around his mouth as if testing its weight. His tone was almost teasing, but there was an undertone of something darker. "I am Lazarus."
Mahnoor tensed as he spoke his name, the sound of it sending a chill down her spine. There was a weight to that name, a history, a story she didn't yet know. She was beginning to realize that this creature wasn't just a mindless beast—he was something far more complex, far more dangerous.
Her mind buzzed with questions, but one stood out above the rest, nagging at her until she couldn't hold it in any longer.
"What are you?" she asked, her voice small but steady. She shifted slightly in his lap, trying to ease the tension in her legs as they strained against the wide position they were forced into, her knees bent awkwardly around his massive thighs. "I mean... lion, human... thing. What exactly are you?"
Lazarus let out a deep, rumbling laugh, his chest vibrating beneath her hands as she clung to his fur for balance. The sound was dark and amused, like he was reliving some old, cruel joke.
"An experiment gone wrong," he replied, his tone laced with bitter amusement. "Ten years ago, thanks to your kind." He shifted slightly, adjusting his grip on her hip as he leaned in closer, his golden eyes gleaming with a sharp edge. "They were trying to breed animals with humans. See what happens when you mix primal strength with human intellect."
Mahnoor's heart skipped a beat as his words sank in. She could hardly believe it, and yet, looking at him—this terrifying blend of man and beast—she knew he wasn't lying. Her stomach churned at the thought. Humans had created him... and then abandoned him to this lonely existence.
"I see," she whispered, her mind racing. "So... you've been here for ten years?"
Lazarus nodded slowly, his lips pulling into a grimace. "Ten long years," he muttered, his voice darker now, more dangerous. "Surviving... hiding from the world that made me."
She hesitated, her body trembling slightly as she shifted again on his lap. Her legs were beginning to ache from the wide W-sitting position they were forced into, stretched out around his massive frame. She tried to subtly move, to ease the strain, but there was no way to avoid brushing against him as she adjusted.
Lazarus's eyes flicked down to her, noticing her discomfort immediately. His grip on her hip tightened just slightly, his golden eyes gleaming with that same mix of amusement and hunger that had been there since the moment he caught her.
"And those killings..." Mahnoor ventured cautiously, her voice softer now as she tried to distract herself from the growing tension in her legs. "You've been... doing that for food?"
Lazarus's grin widened, his sharp teeth glinting dangerously. "What else for?" he replied casually, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "I am still part lion, after all. And lions... hunt."
Mahnoor swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. It wasn't just animals he had killed; there had been rumors of humans, too. She wondered just how many had wandered into this cursed park, only to meet their end at the hands—or claws—of this creature.
As her legs continued to stretch uncomfortably, she shifted again, this time more noticeably. Her knees were beginning to ache, the awkward position becoming unbearable as she sat atop his massive thighs, her body forced into a shape it wasn't used to. She tried to find a better angle, but the movement caused her to press more fully against Lazarus's chest, her small frame inadvertently leaning into him.
Lazarus's eyes darkened, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he watched her closely, his hands tightening their grip on her as if to remind her who was in control. His body radiated heat, the wild scent of him filling her senses as she tried to adjust without making things worse.
"What's the matter, little human?" he asked, his voice teasing, though there was a dangerous edge to it now. "Not comfortable?"
Mahnoor's breath hitched. She was walking a fine line here, trying to balance her need for comfort with the very real danger of angering him. She met his gaze, trying to keep her voice steady, though it trembled slightly.
"It's just... my legs," she admitted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "They're starting to hurt."
Lazarus raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening as he shifted his grip on her hips. Without warning, he pulled her closer, lifting her slightly so that she could adjust her position. His hands were rough but not unkind, his large paws easily maneuvering her body into a more comfortable posture.
"There," he murmured, his voice a low rumble in her ear. "Better?"
Mahnoor nodded, her heart still racing as she settled into a slightly more bearable position, her legs no longer straining as they rested more comfortably against his massive thighs. But the shift in posture brought her even closer to him, her body pressed intimately against his chest, her face inches from his. She could feel the heat of his breath on her skin, the steady rise and fall of his broad chest beneath her hands.
She wasn't sure if the new position was truly an improvement. Being this close to him, feeling the raw power of his body so intimately against hers, made her painfully aware of just how vulnerable she was. She could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath her hands, could hear the low, steady growl of his breath as he held her close.
For now, he seemed satisfied with her compliance, but Mahnoor knew that her survival in this lion's den was far from guaranteed. She was at his mercy, and as the moments passed, she realized that Lazarus was far more than just a beast. He was a predator in every sense of the word, and she was his chosen prey.