Swiftcurrent Creek and maybe you're too good for me

Her lips peel back briefly at the touch, though the expression is hidden, but she makes no move to stop him. Instead she buries her face more tightly between her forelegs, struggling to contain her hysterical sobbing even as it intensifies. Anger and shame burn her ears and face, but she can't stop. She can only crumble under the cruel, endless loop in her mind: her life falling apart in an instant, the loss of her freedom, her happiness, her own body. Confined to a strange territory filled with strange wolves — raising the children of a man she hardly knows. A man she'd gone to for protection.
I trusted you, It slips from her raggedly before she can stop it, voice breaking on the last word. She's shaking now, spiraling further into an all-consuming panic with each passing second. I-I should have known this would happen — I should have just kept to myself — I'm not ready for this, I can't — I can't — She's more or less babbling now between sobs, less coherent with each word until she finally loses her grasp on lucidity entirely, resigning herself to her hysteria.