Page 104
Story: His Mark
I lost myself in him, in the feel of his body behind me, the strength of his arms, the weight of his cock splitting me open.
The pleasure was burning through me, growing, and Silas let out a throaty snarl, his cock pulsing, throbbing inside me.
“Come for me, Wildcat,” he ordered. “Scream my name. Let everyone know who you belong to.”
“God, Silas,” I moaned, the world falling away, the pressure expanding, my inner walls clenching around him, my entire body going rigid as my climax threatened to tear me apart.
“That’s it, Lia,” he purred. “Come for me. Now.”
He slammed into me, his cock jerking as he buried himself to the hilt and let go. His fingers dug into my skin, and with a strangled yell he came deep inside me, grinding against my tender ass.
“That’s my good girl,” Silas whispered, his breath warm on my ear. “Now pull up those jeans. I want that pretty little cunt dripping with my cum for the rest of the day to remind you who owns it.”
My whole body shuddered, my stomach flipping.
I reached for my pants, the blush still creeping hot over my skin as I pulled them up and then wiggled a little as Silas settled back against the blankets.I could feel his seed seeping from me and that only made my cheeks flush that much hotter.
He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close, the heat of his body surrounding me, the strength of his arms enveloping me, protecting me, his scent imprinting on me.
His palm drifted over my stomach.
“Mine,” he murmured.
“Yours,” I whispered.
CHAPTER21
Lia
The journey south stretched on for days.
We moved carefully, covering ground as quickly as we could while keeping our senses sharp. Every step took us deeper into unknown territory, into land where nothing felt right.
The silence was what unsettled me the most.
There were no birds. No rustling of small animals in the undergrowth. No distant howls of wolves that should have been hunting these forests.
There was just nothing.
Only the wind, whispering through the trees like a warning.
By the fourth day, the kills became more frequent. The first few carcasses had been scattered along our path, the remains of deer, elk, smaller creatures. Their bodies were stripped, flesh torn away, emptied of blood. It wasn’t clean or precise; it was savage.
The farther south we traveled, the bigger the bodies became. Moose and bears were more frequent, ripped apart and drained dry like the rest of them.
By the eighth day, we found a horse. It had been drained, completely dry. The body was intact—no shredded limbs, no deep wounds. Just pale, papery skin pulled tight over hollow bones, its lifeless eyes bulging from its skull.
That was the first time I saw fear flicker in everyone’s eyes.
On the ninth day, we found the ravine.
It wasn’t on the maps. It was hidden, tucked away behind miles of jagged cliffs and dense pine forests, a place untouched by sunlight for centuries. The only reason we even found it was because of what appeared to be a rockslide.
Rowan spotted it first, an entire section of stone that had collapsed inward, creating a steep path down into what looked like an isolated valley. At first, it just looked like a wound in the mountainside—jagged rock and loose debris, layers of old stone split apart from whatever collapse had happened here—but as we moved closer, picking our way carefully over the uneven ground, it soon became clear that this wasn’t just a rockslide.
It had revealed an entrance.
Silas stopped first, raising a hand to halt the rest of us. I could feel the tension rolling off him, his shoulders stiff, his golden eyes scanning the mouth of the cave like he was listening for something.
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