Chapter 4

The priest actually held a higher status in the tribe than the chieftain himself.

Not only was the priest responsible for rituals, divinations, and tribal heritage, but he was also tasked with healing injured warriors.

In this frozen apocalypse where medicine was practically nonexistent, whether a wounded warrior lived or died rested entirely on the sole individual who inherited the tribe's medical lore: the priest.

Once Lance brought me into his stone house, he set me down with immense care onto a stone platform bed layered with animal pelts.

His brilliant golden eyes never left my face. "Sit here for a moment. I'll get another fur blanket for you."

I nodded.

He quickly pulled a massive fur pelt from a wooden chest.

To my surprise, instead of throwing it over me, he began smoothing it carefully over the bed beneath me.

After tucking it neatly into place, his eyes locked onto my exposed skin. "Your skin looks so delicate. I'm laying an extra layer down so the stone doesn't bruise you."

It wasn't as if females in the tribe had never approached him with offers of intimacy.

He had simply never felt any attraction toward them.

Today, laying eyes on me, he finally realized he favored soft, petite females.

More than that, the scent radiating from my body was intoxicating, leaving him so entranced he could hardly bear to step away.

I hadn't expected this fierce, imposing white tiger priest to be so remarkably attentive.

"Thank you. By the way, what's your name? I'm Joy."

"I am Lance. If there is ever anything you need, just tell me."

I nodded again. "Alright. I think I'll sleep for a bit."

Vivian and I had stumbled into this undocumented, freezing dimension during an ordinary hiking trip.

Before the White Tiger Tribe discovered us, we had been trekking through deep snow for nearly two hours, shivering and completely drained.

Seeing me lie down, Lance lowered his deep voice. "I won't disturb your rest then. I'll go fetch some food for you. What would you like to eat tonight?"

Recalling the brutal dietary habits of this world, a shudder ran through me, and I blurted out, "Some wild berries, and maybe some hot meat broth. Please slice the meat very thin, or I won't be able to chew it."

Beastmen could switch between beast and human forms at will.

While they ate raw kills in their beast forms, they rarely ate raw meat in human form; they usually boiled it into soup or roasted it over fire.

However, because beastmen were enormous, they chopped meat into gigantic chunks for convenience.

A single bone from their meals was often longer than my entire forearm.

Gnawing on massive bones was effortless for them, but a nightmare for human teeth.

Furthermore, game in this frozen climate was tough, lean, and fibrous; even after boiling, it remained stubbornly hard to chew.

In my past life, unable to stomach the food, I had survived almost exclusively on sparse berries.

That malnutrition led to me falling violently ill during a blizzard, nearly costing me my life.

Thankfully, Lance possessed genuine skill as a priest back then, curing me with water mixed from a strange black medicinal paste.

Hearing my request, Lance studied my face intently for a moment before nodding solemnly. "Understood. Get some sleep."

"Okay."

I closed my eyes.

Overcome by sheer exhaustion, I drifted into a deep sleep almost immediately.

When I woke again, darkness had fallen outside.

I sat up abruptly on the stone bed.

"Joy, you're awake? You must be starving. Come eat." Lance's deep, resonant voice echoed beside me.

I pressed a hand to my hollow stomach and slipped out of bed.

Two stone bowls were neatly arranged on the crude wooden table.

One held hot meat broth, the other an assortment of unknown wild berries.

"Have you eaten yet?" I asked, sitting down.

Lance gave a low hum, his golden eyes fixed on my face, the raw desire in them undisguised and scorching. "I've already eaten. Go on, eat while it's hot."

"Alright." I gripped the wooden spoon tightly, knowing full well he wouldn't let me off easily tonight.

I took small sips of the broth.

Lance was indeed leagues ahead of that wolf. With just a single mention from me, he had shredded the meat into tender, delicate strips and simmered them until they practically melted.

Though seasoned only with coarse salt, the broth tasted rich and savory.

Before I knew it, I had polished off half the bowl.

Still, the portion was colossal, and I simply couldn't finish the rest.

"I'm full," I said, setting the spoon down.

Lance glanced down at my stomach, as if double-checking that I was genuinely satisfied.

Then, his gaze locked onto mine with fierce heat, his voice turning rough. "I'll clear the bowls. There's a natural hot spring piped into the adjoining stone chamber. You can go wash up."

My eyes widened in genuine delight.

A natural hot spring inside his house?

That meant I would never have to worry about freezing while bathing.

Most beastmen lived rough, jumping straight into half-frozen rivers to wash, something I could never survive.

Once Lance stepped out with the stone bowls, I followed the faint steam in the dim light.

Watching the warm vapor rise, I stripped off my clothes and sank into the water.

Before I could even finish washing, Lance stepped into the chamber holding a blazing torch.

Mounting the torch into a wall bracket, he advanced toward me, step by step.

The burning intensity in his gaze felt hot enough to melt my skin off.

My body began to tremble involuntarily.

The wolf shifter's build had been nowhere near as massive as Lance's, yet in my past life, that wolf had nearly broken me in half every night.

With Lance... wouldn't I literally die in bed?