Shadewood no space in your broken veins

Her sleep was fractured, fretful, waking in ruptures and calming herself enough to doze off again before spluttering awake as though she'd been jabbed with the rough edge of broken glass - it was a prickle that nipped at her spine, growing into the tearing of flesh, the sensation of his body pressed against her back and his weight holding her to the frozen earth, pushing into her--

--his teeth, piercing the skin of her neck,
blood rushing from her shoulder to the snow,
the burn of the scars.
his rasps and bubbling breaths, hot on her nape.
“You taste lovely,”
relentless. violent. disgusting. taken--

--gasps fled her lips, pushing herself immediately from the den's floor and steadying herself against the earthen walls. It was nothing more than a memory, a fraction of the past, but she could still hear the boogeyman's cracked words echoing in her skull and shivering through her legs. Her trembles led her quickly to the icy blast of the evening wind, but she did not stop at the entrance, pouring outside and vanishing into the shadows of the frigid darkness. She needed some time to breathe, and as much warmth as the den provided her with, she couldn't shake off Ithrik's touch there.