Page 43
My cock flexes beneath my robe, hardening at the view. Fuck, this is the hottest shit I’ve ever seen.
Kendra trails open-mouth kisses down Bunny’s neck onto her tits, sucking one nipple between her lips before releasing it with a wet pop. Then lower, across her stomach, until her face is buried between Bunny’s thighs.
“Mmm, you taste like heaven,” Kendra purrs, working Bunny’s clit with little flicks of her tongue, teasing yet precise.
Bunny whimpers, her legs strain, trying to close, but can’t. She’s locked down and soaking.
Giggling, Kendra pulls away, leaving Bunny aching for more. Then, without warning, she slips down the table and sheds her skin like it’s nothing, revealing Zhyra underneath.
“Damn, that was fucking incredible,” he gasps, licking his mouth, still tasting Bunny’s juices, as he palms his cock.
Next is Nate. He steps between Bunny’s legs, robe already open, and slides his cock inside her in one smooth, greedy thrust. Her scream echoes, but it’s not just fear.
Her body clenches around him like she’s been starving.
He curses, tossing his head back, as he strains not to cum at that very second.
That boy’s been waiting his whole life for this.
Little did he know, he’d have to get eaten alive first.
Devin stands by Bunny’s head, fingers curling into her pink hair, pulling her head back sharply. His cock pushes forcefully into her mouth until she gags around him, the sound making him groan low.
“Goddamnit, Bunny. You’re so fucking perfect.” His grip tightens, his voice more bitter. “To think I could’ve had that. But you denied me, just to turn around, seduce my best friend, and deny him, too. What a stone cold bitch you are.”
True.
He can’t hold the shape much longer, and Dorunn claws his way out. His cock slips from her mouth, hanging low and heavy between his thighs as steam rises from his nostrils.
Nate’s gone too, shifting back into Varekka, his claws piercing the flesh on her hips. He snarls when Mark shoves him to the side and takes his place.
“How many?” he hisses, removing his hood.
His eyes burn as he glares at Bunny, still pinned down, squirming and in shock.
“Millions. Millions of followers, and tens of thousands of those—maybe more—lusted after you… I was one of them. But a girl like you would never look at a guy like me. You used me to make your crazy almost- boyfriend jealous. Now look what happened to me.”
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” she chokes on her tears.
“Still, I can’t help but want you so badly.” He reaches his hand, his fingers ghosting over her trembling thighs.
I grab Mark’s robe and yank him back hard, still hating his fucking guts. “You don’t get to touch her,” I snap, my voice a dangerous growl, laced with possessiveness.
His laugh rumbles deep, shifting into Khalok’s guttural voice.
His spine cracks as fur bursts from every pore.
With one swift motion, his claws slash into Bunny’s breast before his mouth mauls it.
His jagged teeth sink into the tender flesh, his tongue curling around the hardened peak as he sucks it ravenously.
She screams, more from pleasure than pain, as he laps every drop of her sweet blood like it’s ambrosia. His cock throbs, leaking precum on the floor and we groan as one.
Impatient, I step closer, pulling off the hood to reveal the familiar white mask. Her eyes widen in surprise… in hurt.
“You see, Princess, I never lie,” I say, almost mocking, “They’re all here. And they all want their payback. Just like me.” I yank off the balaclava, letting her see the man she once loved. Maybe she still does, even though he is no more.
“Ghost…” her voice pitches higher, slipping into that alluring sweetness she’s practiced so well. “Daddy, please.”
“No, Bunny,” I respond firmly, ignoring that sharp sting somewhere deep, deep inside. “You fooled me for the last time when you drove that knife into my heart. Somehow I always knew you would.”
Then I shift, reminding her of what she saw back in the woods. And she can deny it all she wants, but I see how her eyes devour my form. She may even like it more than the man behind the mask she fell for. Her cunt is always weeping for me.
The longing in me flames, but I stick to the plan. “No matter what I do, your heart won’t open. I know that now.” I slowly circle the table, my hooves clicking on the old floorboards. “But if you won’t be mine, you won’t be anyone’s.”
“No!” she shouts, thrashing as if she’s set on fire. “Please, just let me go! I’m begging you!”
“Shhh. No need to fret,” I whisper into her ear, leaning over her. “These woods need to feed. And you… You’re the perfect little sacrifice.”
She squeezes her eyes, tossing her head from side to side like she was waiting to wake up from a bad dream. “This is not real. This is not real.”
“Oh, but it is, baby.” I lick the tear from her cheek, my breath hot against her skin.
She gasps through the chokehold, voice shaking. “Who… what are you?”
“I’m Tyorin.” I straighten, raking my nails down her body, leaving fresh streaks of blood from the wound Khalok left behind.
“We’re called Hollowraiths. I’m the Alpha of our brotherhood.
Doruun’s second in command. Our hierarchy comes with power earned.
But we share everything, inside and out, like a hive mind. ”
I pause, letting it sink in. She’s frozen, pale, barely even breathing. So I keep talking, because it feels good to finally tell her. It’s quite amusing, actually.
“We exist between this world and the spirit realm. We don’t have bodies of our own, only the skin we choose to wear. We’ve been around a long time. Longer than anything else walking this earth. These woods are our home. Our altar. Every drop of blood spilled here is for the god we serve.”
A wail rips from her raw throat as she realizes she’s the offering. And fuck me, she’s beautiful like this. Terrified. Wild-eyed. Holy .
“You should be honored,” I hiss. “You’re not just dinner, Bunny. You’re the final piece.”
The candles flare, tongues of flame licking high in the stale air as smoke coils in the corners like watching eyes.
“Show her,” Doruun murmurs, handing me the dagger. “Show her how sacred it is to be marked by us.”
I smile as I press the obsidian blade to her chest.
“Lucky rabbit,” Varekka rasps, hardly controlling his excitement, tail wagging fast behind him.
Bunny screams when I make the first cut. The blade slides clean, leaving a thin ribbon of blood that trails down her sternum, over her stomach.
We moan in unison—the sight is too erotic, her scent too tempting.
I carve the first rune into the flesh, slowly, with reverence. The symbol is primitive—nothing from books, nothing that ever touched a page. It's a shape we remember. A map of hunger. A brand of belonging.
It sears into her. Her body jolts, seized with the burn of it as more blood spills, soaking into the fur below her
“She bleeds easy,” Zhyra purrs, tracing Bunny’s inner thigh with a claw, not cutting. Just feeling her shake.
“It means the body accepts us,” Khalok says. “It means the spirit listens.”
She sobs harder, her voice echoes off the wooden beams like a hymn. She writhes. Bucks. Tries to twist, but the bindings hold, keeping her right where she belongs.
We take turns, not with our cocks, but with our blades this time. Every stroke is precise. Intentional. Violent and loving. Not too deep—we don’t want to lose her yet. Enough to brand her soul. Each mark has a meaning only the trees understand.
She’s not just scared now. She’s overwhelmed. Gone limp in parts. Raw. Fucked without penetration.
But of course, her cunt glistens in the candlelight.
“She’s wet,” I tell my brothers, sliding the edge of the blade along her slit. “Wet while we carve her. He will love that.”
She cries for mercy until her throat goes raw. But it’s too late for mercy. She was claimed the second she stepped into these woods.
I engrave the final sigil directly above her womb, slicing in slow, curving strokes that make her entire body shiver.
Blood rivers between her leg, across her spread pussy lips.
I lap it up, groaning, rutting against the edge of the table like I’ll come from the taste alone. It’s sweet, laced with terror. Pure.
Her lips are trembling. Eyes unfocused. She’s drifted to that space between pain and pleasure. That place we brought her to, again and again. The one she learned to love.
The others follow—each licking from her wounds, letting the blood trail down their jaws, their chests, their cocks.
We begin to whisper against her ruined skin.
Not in English. The language isn’t for her ears. It’s for the thing that watches from the woods. The old god. The forest itself.
The ancient tongue makes the candles flicker, and the room feels tighter, smaller, the walls closing in, leaving no air for her to breathe.
The words are alive, like insects crawling over skin.
The blood from her wounds pulses harder, darker, as if called by the chant.
Her soul feels it even if her mind can't decipher it.
She’s shivering violently now, eyes wide with shock.
Terror has stolen her voice, but her body won’t stop writhing.
Her skin burns with the carved symbols, the power they hold sinking in deep—into muscle, into bone.
Her blood drips off the edge of the table and soaks into the hardwood… into the soil below.
Then, a whistle pierces the night like a howl.
Again. Long and low. The sound is disturbing, like there are too many notes in it.
Bang.
Something slams against the cabin wall.
She flinches. My brothers stop dead. But I grin.
Whatever it is out there, it’s older than us. Hungrier. It smells her blood. And it craves her.
I lean in, my mouth against her pulsing jugular. “You feel that presence outside, Bunny?”
She nods frantically.
“That’s the forest. The god with no name. The one we feed. You’re almost ready for him.”
“No… no, no, please…” she sobs.
Another bang rips through the room.
She turns her head toward the door, eyes wide in panic, horror overtaking even the pain. Her lips move in a silent prayer, but no god hears her here.
“She’s glowing,” Varekka murmurs, stepping closer. “She’s really glowing.”
And she is. The runes on her skin blaze silver. Her body writhes as if something inside her is trying to claw its way out. Her hips buck, not in desire—never that—but from the unbearable invasion of energy and heat.
The ritual is working. It’s nearly complete.
The banging continues for a while longer, smoke curls, shadows welding in the corners of the room.
And finally, silence.
The cabin goes still. The glow is gone. Even the presence outside has stopped.
The flames flicker once.
Go blue.
Then return.
We nod at one another and unfasten the straps holding her down, slowly, one by one.
She doesn’t move. She’s too weak. Shaking, bleeding, a ruined animal sprawled across the blood-soaked fur. Her breath is shallow, but still there.
I lean down and lick a long stripe from her belly up to her throat, inhaling her ripe, heady scent.
“Good girl,” I murmur. “You took it all. You did so well.”
Her legs give out as I lift her. She can barely hold her head up. Blood covers her like a robe. Tears streak her face, but she doesn’t fight anymore.
Not because she’s compliant.
Because she’s broken.
I grab an axe from the wall before I walk her to the cabin door, naked and carved, blood trailing behind her, dripping from every rune.
I place the weapon into her palm, and she stares at it like it’s not real. Like it’s a hallucination.
“For old time’s sake,” I murmur, rubbing the back of her hand with my thumb.
Our eyes meet. And I hesitate, just for a second.
Then I remember why.
I lean in and whisper against her ear. “Run, little bunny.”
The door creaks open as I unlatch it. The air outside is colder than it should be. The trees are still. But alive. The presence outside is oppressive now. Watching. Waiting.
She gasps, stuck in her fear.
“Run!” I command.
And she obeys.
She runs into the blackness of the night, into the arms of something worse. The forest welcomes her. Or it devours her.
I watch as she disappears, her heartbeat echoing off the woods, her scent trailing behind her like perfume: blood, fear… and that traitorous slick heat between her thighs.
Doruun steps next to me, squeezing my shoulder firmly.
“I grew very fond of her,” I finally admit out loud.
“We all did.” He sighs heavily. “It’s already done.”
“We’ve prepared her for this,” Khalok adds behind us, but uncertainty edges his voice. “She’s ready.”
I close my eyes. I still smell her in the air. I still hear her pulse somewhere in the dark.
Only one thought spiraling in my mind:
Baby, please come back to me.
Table of Contents
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- Page 43 (Reading here)
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