Silver Creek [m]Lost and afraid

He had watched her from the shadows, his predatory gaze slowly drinking in her form by the Creek. He could hear her words to ghosts invisible to him, likely induced by the poppy teas he gave her every four hours. It kept her loose, pliable, willing. As if his thoughts were propellers, he moved forward, his voice deep and husky with longing for the female who evaded him for almost 2 years.

“Reina,” he purred, “must you look so…delicious?” He had sauntered to her side, his nose brushing her neck up to her ear, deeply inhaling as he went. He relished in the fact she did not move away from his touch and he would absolutely use that to his advantage.

“I think it is time we venture beyond the Creek, stretch our legs a little. What do you think, my love?”