Thor's POV
There was a rule to hunting that I had always enjoyed—the quietness of it, the stillness that wrapped around the forest like a second skin, and most importantly, the patience required to catch prey. It was a slow, deliberate art. One that demanded control over instinct, over hunger, over impulse.
It was the one thing I enjoyed so intimately that I doubted there could ever be anything else.
So, imagine my surprise when my gaze landed on her face, and instead of the usual instinctive recognition, the word that echoed in my mind was not prey—
—but mate.
It was unsettling.
She was more beautiful than the women I was used to, but that was not what caught my attention. Beauty was common enough, fleeting, unimportant.
No—what set her apart was her fragility.
