After returning to ancient times I lived a life of farming and raising children in the mountains

The smell hit her first. A thick, metallic stench of rust mixed with something cloyingly sweet, like rotting fruit left in the sun. It coated the back of Karlie Holloway's throat, dragging her up from the dark void of unconsciousness.

She remembered the explosion—the sickening lurch of the plane, the screech of tearing metal, and then fire swallowing everything. She had died. Or should have. But instead of an afterlife, she woke here, on this alien ground, with Unit 9's cold voice in her skull explaining the impossible: she had transmigrated into a interstellar beastman world. A reality ripped from the trashy romance serials she used to mock. Here, the rules were inverted. Females were rare, their psychic energy capable of soothing the violent frenzies that plagued the males. A single high-ranking female could bond with multiple males, and she was now one of those precious, hunted few. The thought made her stomach turn.

Her eyes flew open. The world was a blur of shadows and jagged rock. A splitting pain hammered behind her eyeballs, pulsing in time with her frantic heartbeat. She gasped, the sound echoing too loud in the enclosed space.

She tried to push herself up. Her right palm slapped against something wet and sticky. Warmth seeped between her fingers. Karlie froze, her breath catching. She forced her head down, blinking away the haze.

Blood. Her hand was covered in it.

Half of it was hers, seeping from a gash on her forearm. The other half came from the twisted piece of metal shrapnel pinning her left leg to the dirt floor of the cave. The sharp edge had sliced through her pants, biting deep into her calf.

"Damn it." she hissed through clenched teeth. The pain was a live wire, shooting up her leg and making her stomach heave.

She grabbed the metal shard with her bloody hand, muscles tensing to pull it free, when a sound stopped her cold.

A low, guttural growl rolled out from the darkest depths of the cave. It wasn't human. It vibrated in the air, rattling the loose pebbles near her feet.

Karlie's hands dropped. She pressed her back against the cold, damp rock wall, her chest so tight she couldn't breathe. Her eyes darted into the blackness, searching.

Two points of crimson light flickered to life.

They weren't lights. They were eyes. Red, vertical slits that cut through the darkness like laser beams. Heavy, ragged breathing followed, the sound of a massive chest heaving with effort.

A shape detached itself from the shadows. It stood on two legs, but the proportions were wrong—too broad, too hunched. As it stepped into the faint light filtering through the cave entrance, Karlie's heart slammed against her ribs so hard she thought it would crack bone.

It was a man. Or at least, it had been.

Gavin Knapp. Even through the haze of terror, she recognized the broad shoulders and the dark hair matted with sweat. But his features were twisted into something animalistic. The veins on his forehead bulged like thick cords, pulsing with a feverish rhythm. His jaw hung slack, saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth. His eyes were those crimson slits, devoid of any recognition or sanity.

He took a step forward. His left leg dragged behind him, leaving a thick smear of blood on the stone floor. The wound on his thigh was a mess of torn flesh and bruised skin, but he moved as if he didn't feel it.

His gaze swept the cave, wild and unseeing. Then, it locked onto Karlie.

A whine escaped his throat. It wasn't a sound of pain. It was hunger. A desperate, starving need.

He lunged.

Karlie didn't even have time to scream. He moved faster than a man that injured should be able to. One massive hand slammed into her shoulders, pinning her back against the rock. The force rattled her teeth. His fingers dug into her flesh, hard enough to grind the bones together.

Heat. He radiated heat like a furnace. It blasted against her skin, soaking through her torn shirt. His breath was hot and ragged against her neck, carrying a scent that was wild and aggressive, nothing like a human.

"No," she gasped, her hands coming up to push against his chest. It was like pushing against a concrete wall. "Get off me!"

He didn't seem to hear her. His other hand grabbed the collar of her shirt. The fabric tore with a loud rip, exposing her shoulder and collarbone to the damp air.

It wasn't desire. There was nothing calculated or sensual in his movements. He was a drowning man, and she was the only piece of driftwood in the ocean. He was acting on pure, biological instinct.

Warning. High-energy biological frenzy detected. The voice of Unit 9, her AI assistant, echoed in her mind, sharp and urgent. Hostile intent critical. Physical resistance futile. Immediate energy symbiosis recommended to stabilize target. Failure to comply results in high probability of host fatality.

"Energy symbiosis? What the hell is that?" The thought fractured in her panic-stricken mind. "Unit 9, are you insane? He's a monster! I can't get closer to him!"

"Explanation," Unit 9 replied, its tone maddeningly calm. "You are now in a interstellar beastman world. Females possess unique psychic soothing abilities. This male is in a berserk frenzy—a common affliction due to unstable energy reserves. Energy symbiosis is the primary method of calming. In this society, females are revered as scarce resources; one female may bond with multiple males to form a stable unit. Your survival depends on accepting this reality."

"I didn't sign up for this!" she screamed internally, thrashing against his iron grip. Her breaths came in short, terrified bursts. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. But as his jaws snapped inches from her neck, the hot, wild scent of his frenzy suffocating her, the cold reality of her situation crashed down. She had no weapons, no strength, and no way out. If she fought him, he would crush her. If she screamed, he would silence her. The realization hit her with icy clarity, cutting through the panic. It was either try this crazy AI suggestion, or die right here in the dirt.

Karlie stopped pushing. Instead, she reached up. Her hand trembled as she grabbed the back of his neck. His skin was burning hot, slick with sweat. She forced his face down toward hers.