A Quiet Kind of Survival

I didn't mean to become a fated mate. After witnessing my family's slaughter at the hands of the ruling syndicate, my voice died in my throat. I just wanted a quiet place to hide and do absolutely nothing. But I woke up somewhere impossible: inside a doorless, enchanted cabin deep in the Nyravan Taiga. My roommate? Korvan, a towering, terrifying warden with slashed vocal cords who communicates in heavy stares and protective grunts. Elder Pravil warned me before I fled: never feed the Taiga's beast, never look him in the eye, and never share his space. I thought those rules were meant to keep me alive. But I'm too lazy to maintain the elaborate avoidance rituals Pravil taught me. When I absentmindedly cook a pot of spiced tuber stew just to stop my own stomach from growling, I offer a bowl to the giant. It turns out the stew tastes exactly like his stolen childhood. That single act of lazy convenience triggers an ancient soul-bond, and I realize the horrifying truth. Pravil's 'survival rules' weren't meant to protect me. They were a ritual meant to dismantle the cabin's wards. Now that our bond is repairing the sanctuary, the real monsters are coming. Can two voiceless, broken people defend their home?