Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
“You’ve been mated,” Skor says. “You belong to us now. It is really that simple.”
“You didn’t mate me,” I snap back. “You put your rod in the wrong hole and…” I trail off, blushing at my own coarseness.
Skor throws back his head and roars in laughter.
“Do you need a dose of my seed in your pussy? Would that help make the journey more pleasant?”
“Shut up,” I sulk. I do not like the feeling of being mocked, especially sexually.
“Don’t tease her,” Thorn chimes in. “She’s homesick. We know what that feels like.”
I feel a little pang of gratitude toward him, but it disappears when I remember he could have let me go. He could have pretended that I ran too fast. He could have tripped or stumbled. I could have been free now, making my way back up to the place I belong. But he didn’t do any of those things. He caught me and he handed me back into captivity, and for that reason I cannot trust him or risk liking him for even a moment.
“It’s time to go,” Krall says, taking my hand in his. He sets off down the hill again, and I am forced to follow him like a recalcitrant child. I try to pull back, to get away, but his grip is firm and unyielding, and even picking my feet up entirely and just sliding across the rough ground is not enough to dissuade him. He just lets me drag.
“We do not respond well to temper tantrums,” he says. “So behave yourself or you will have skinned knees and road rash.”
“What’s road rash?”
“When you fall off a bike or something on a road and you get dragged and bits of you come off. It’s pretty bad,” Thorn says helpfully.
It sounds awful. I wonder how many other terrible things await me in a place where there are roads to worry about.
“Keep up,” Krall says, giving me a tug. “We’re going to make it to Last Stop before nightfall.”
“What’s Last Stop?”
“It’s a town at the end of the railway. It’s the last stop for most goods, deliveries, and everything else. Intrepid explorers use it as a kind of jumping off point to the proper wilds, and there’s a bar and a hotel, and a church, and a candy store.”
“I’ve never seen a candy store, or a bar, or a hotel… or a church,” I say. I feel a bit of real trepidation when I say the word church. “What gods are worshipped in the church?”
“It’s more of a human thing,” Thorn explains cheerfully. “Wolves follow the wild gods, obviously.”
“Obviously,” I say. He’s quite nice and fun when he’s not being possessed and fucking me brutally.
“I’m going to get you candy,” he says. “There’s something called a sour patch, and it’s like sweet, but more sour than anything you’ve ever tasted in your life, so you want to spit it out, but it’s too yummy so you just suffer and it’s delicious.”
“Masochism candy? Okay…”
Skor
Thorn is distracting the girl. Good. He comes in quite useful from time to time, I suppose. Tabby is a flight risk. The desperation in her eyes when she made her break for home makes that very obvious.
I am staying quiet, restraining myself, letting my brothers take their various forms of care of her. It will be my turn soon enough.
She is delicious. I can feel her power almost more strongly now that it is not surrounded by the wilds and the darkness. She was a thing among things last night, a drop in a very big ocean. But out here, in the sunlight, as all semblance of mountain fades and the ground becomes dismally horizontal, she is beginning to pulse with a dark light. An oxymoron in real terms, but it is the only real way to explain it.
I want to be inside her sex. I want to make her scream and wriggle and come for me over and over again. I will do that, too. I will ensure that whatever useless seed spilled inside her last night is eradicated and my own desire becomes her first pups.
Krall has let go of her hand now, and is letting her walk with Thorn ahead of us both.
“We’ll need to keep watch,” he says. “Restrain her overnight, perhaps.”
“Silver her at night,” I reply simply. “It will not be pleasant, but we cannot risk her running.”
“Once she is with pup, she should stop trying to escape.”
That is my hope too. Once she has been properly bred, her priorities will change. New instincts will come to the fore. She will not be so obsessed with returning to her old home, I hope. Either that, or she will be so consumed by the need to return nothing will be able to stop her. But that is a bridge yet to be burned.