Seed Bringer (The Hidden Queendom Harem #1)

Chapter 1

Andrew checked his phone again, already knowing it wouldn’t be any different.

One bar. No signal. Battery at two percent.

He let out a sigh and slipped it back into his pocket. The GPS had frozen a while ago anyway, stuck on a useless patch of green. If it had ever been accurate in the first place.

Around him, the forest stretched in every direction with massive trees rising like pillars. Their trunks were thick enough that even five men linking arms wouldn’t be able to circle them.

The canopy above swallowed most of the daylight, turning everything below into a dim, green-tinted haze. The air felt cooler here, heavier, like the forest had its own weather system.

Andrew adjusted the straps on his backpack and turned in a slow circle, scanning for anything familiar. A broken branch, a slope he recognized, even a patch of ground he’d already stepped on.

Every direction looked the same. Endless trees, tangled roots, and deepening shadow.

“Alright,” he muttered. “This isn’t looking good.”

He wasn’t panicking. Not yet. He’d been hiking long enough to know that getting turned around happened, especially when you stepped off the trail. You stopped, you oriented yourself, you worked your way back.

Most of the time, it was simple. Except this place didn’t feel simple.

He’d noticed it gradually, the way the forest had changed as he pushed deeper. The trees had grown wider, older, ancient. Even the sounds had shifted with fewer birds and less movements. Just the low creak of wood and the occasional rustle far above.

Andrew rubbed the back of his neck and forced himself to focus.

He knew why he was here, and he tried to hold on to his original motivation. If he were to succeed, his life would be turned upside down in the best possible way.

It hadn’t been a sudden decision, no matter how it looked from the outside.

The stories had been with him since he was a kid—half-forgotten articles, old forum posts, fragments of local legends about gold hidden somewhere in these woods.

Not the kind people panned in rivers, but something older.

Something buried and missed, probably deliberately left behind.

Every few years, someone claimed they’d found something. A flake, a nugget; a trace that shouldn’t have been there. It was never enough to prove anything, but always enough to keep the idea alive.

Most people dismissed it, but Andrew hadn’t.

He stepped over a thick root and continued forward, paying closer attention to where he placed his feet.

He wasn’t reckless. He’d spent enough weekends hiking and camping to know how to move through rough terrain.

His body handled it easily with steady breathing and controlled steps. His balance shifted without thought.

One sprained ankle and it would all be over. Especially now that he had lost his way. He needed to be careful.

The area he’d entered wasn’t just “off the main trail.” It was restricted and clearly marked on signs with official warnings.

No hiking allowed: Dangerous terrain. Protected land. Unstable ecosystem.

He’d read all of it. He just didn’t buy the reasons.

“Yeah,” he muttered, glancing around again. “Because people might find something.”

That made a lot more sense to him.

If there really was gold out here—real deposits, not just traces—you wouldn’t want random hikers stumbling across it. Easier to shut down the whole area, call it dangerous, and keep everyone out.

And if a few idiots ignored the warnings?

Well, that was on them.

Andrew gave a small, humorless smile.

Guess that makes me one of them.

He wasn’t proud of it. But he wasn’t ashamed either.

A few weeks ago, he’d been sitting in his apartment, staring at a life that suddenly didn’t look the way it was supposed to. Same job, same routine, same plans he’d been building toward for years; except one of the biggest pieces of it was gone.

Claire had walked out on him.

Four years together, and then done. Just like that.

No dramatic fight. No shouting. Just a quiet conversation that somehow had been the final one.

His eyes fixed ahead as he stepped over a root.

It hadn’t just been about feelings. That would’ve been easier.

They’d talked about the future. Kids had come up. Of course they had. And that was where everything had started to unravel.

Andrew tightened his jaw slightly as he recalled the moment.

Doctors. Tests. Follow-ups. Words he hadn’t expected to hear at the age of twenty-six.

‘Low odds. Maybe impossible.’

Not definitive, but close enough that it changed the way people looked at you when you said it out loud.

Claire hadn’t said it was the only reason. But it had been there between them every time the future came up.

Every time they tried to picture what their life would look like five or ten years down the line.

He pushed the thoughts aside and kept moving.

Out here, it didn’t matter. Out here, none of that followed him. It was just him and Mother Nature. And, if luck had it, the gold.

He ducked under a low branch, pushing it aside as he passed.

For the first few days after the break up, he’d done what everyone does—kept busy, distracted himself, told himself it would pass. But the quiet always came back; the empty apartment, the same walls, the same routines, just without her in them.

It made everything feel smaller. Predictable and safe in the worst way. So he’d decided to stop playing it safe.

He’d taken time off, packed his gear, and driven out here with a plan that sounded better the longer he sat with it.

Andrew slowed again, frowning as he looked ahead.

The forest shifted subtly in a direction.

The trees grew even larger, their trunks merging into something that felt less like separate plants and more like a single, massive structure.

The ground dipped slightly, then rose again, forming a natural slope that seemed to guide him forward.

He hadn’t noticed choosing this path. But it appeared that he was definitely following it.

A faint unease settled in his limbs, mixing with something that was perhaps curiosity. Or instinct.

“This is where it would be,” he said quietly, a chilling certainty radiating under his skin.

The gold wouldn’t be near the edges of the woods and easy to reach. It would be deep and hidden, buried under years of growth and isolation. It all made sense. It was exactly where no one was supposed to go.

He hesitated for a moment, glancing back the way he’d come. There was no path behind him anymore. Just trees, layered so densely it was hard to tell how far he’d walked or in what direction.

Turning back would be complicated. Going forward felt simpler.

Andrew let out a breath and adjusted his grip on the straps of his pack again. “Alright,” he said. “Just a little further.”

Just enough to find a sign—anything—that proved this wasn’t a waste of time.

Then he’d turn back. Get his bearings. Head out before dark. That was the plan. He had brought a tent with him anyway if things would go south, just in case.

He stepped forward, moving deeper into the forest.

The light dimmed slightly as the canopy thickened overhead, and the air grew still, almost unnaturally so. Even the faint sounds from before seemed to fade, leaving only the quiet rhythm of his own footsteps and breathing.

For a brief moment, he had the strange feeling that something had changed, that he had crossed from one place into another.

Andrew shook his head and let out a short breath, more to steady himself than anything else. “Yeah,” he said under his breath. “Definitely heading back after this.”

He didn’t. Instead, he kept walking.

By the time Andrew admitted he wasn’t making it out before dark, the forest had already decided for him.

The light had thinned gradually at first, fading from green to gray, until the spaces between the trees filled with shadow. Now it was settling in fast into darkness.

He’d pushed too far.

There was no chance of retracing his steps in this light, not without risking a twisted ankle or worse. The terrain was uneven, cluttered with roots and dips that were easy enough to navigate during the day but turned into hazards once visibility dropped.

So he did what he should have done earlier. He made camp.

It didn’t take long. He found a relatively flat patch between two massive trees and cleared away what he could: loose branches, stones, anything that might make sleeping miserable.

His hands moved automatically, muscle memory taking over as he set up the tent, secured the corners, and checked the ground one last time.

It gave him something to focus on besides the creeping awareness of just how deep he was in this place.

By the time he crawled inside and zipped the tent shut, the forest outside had gone almost completely dark.

Andrew sat there for a moment, listening.

Nothing immediate stood out. Just the faint, distant sounds of the woods at night: subtle shifts, the occasional movement far off, the low groan of trees settling. The wind.

He let out a breath and leaned back, running a hand over his face. “Not a disaster,” he said quietly.

He took stock.

Food? Enough for a couple of days if he stretched it.

Water? Still had a good amount left.

Gear? Solid.

He’d been in worse situations. Tomorrow, he’d get his bearings. Find higher ground if he could, orient himself, work his way back toward the trail. It might take time, but he wasn’t stranded.

Or so he’d liked to believe.

He glanced at his phone out of habit, then gave a small huff of amusement. It was completely dead.

He set it aside and lay back, staring up at the faint outline of the tent’s interior. The fabric shifted slightly with the air outside, the shape of it barely visible in the darkness.

Claire popped up in his mind. Her pretty face, her long blonde hair, her soft skin.

He shook his head, forcing himself to focus on something else.

For a while, things were quiet. And slowly, his body began to relax.

He had shelter. He had supplies. He knew what he was doing.

He’d be fine.