Lone Star Mountain #newdaynewme

He rises to his feet and she turns to where (she thinks) the sound is coming from. Her senses are no better or stronger than the day before; if anything, they’re worse. Panic levels rising in her mind begin to drown out the others as she tries to focus, head pointed in one direction she thought him to be coming from. She misses the sound of him stepping closer until his scent strengthens nearby. It doesn’t help determine where he is other than close and a new tremble takes hold. Ocra snaps her teeth a few times to the left, and then the front of her. She snarls to her right but each time she’s met with mouthfuls of air and no indication of where he is.

Try to run and I’ll rape you until you’re spilling cum from your ears.

His voice crawls into her skin and she shudders violently as he shoves his muzzle against the tender flesh between her legs. Ocra helps in painful surprise and shuffled forward and tentative and scared feet, afraid an imminent tumble to her death is in front of her. He explains her predicament no differently than she’s already come to the conclusion. Survival isn’t a likely scenario, if he just lets her go, but it’s away from him.

She thinks of Xan, briefly. If she’s just caved to his childish ways, somehow turned it around, she wouldn’t be here. Or he’d at least be looking for her. No one knows who she is. No one is looking for her. Her pack, prior to coming to the teekon, knows she may not return. Not a soul will notice her absence.

After a few seconds, still frozen in place, she feels his teeth click together on her hip and she yelps, jumping forward. Instantly she scrambles but she hits the ground anyway, afraid of falling down a too steep incline or a cliff she’s standing too close to, but she only hunkers, hunched, on the ground, and angles her nose downward as he threatens her once more and the gravity of the situation begins to sink in.