Stone Circle bring strife and discord with you wherever you may travel.

she could beg, and she could scream — all it would do was drive iliksis’ desire for her deeper. he did not stop, for laurel’s words had no command over the serpent. instinctively laurel flinched away from his touch, and instinctively, iliksis drew his body closer to close the gap and the rush of cold wind between them.

he made no further sound as he straddled he frame, his teeth ground harshly into her nape. laurel’s throaty cries— the burst of anger — were answered with a clinical, almost horrific indifference.

the truth of the matter was, whatever molded iliksis had done so with inappropriate malevolence. he was, simply, a monster — no amount of screams or sobs would ever shake free the immoral hold of his conscious, nor work to draw compassion from his dispassionate psyche. laurel’s pleads would have better luck drawing blood from stone.

with a grunt, he felt himself force inside her — here it was warm and sweet, the only tranquil haven in iliksis’ chaotic life. here, he could control everything; her body, the pace, the raw sensation of flesh against primal flesh. he sunk his teeth deeper within her than perhaps any part of him had ever penetrated, a slavering and erotic snarl bubbling from his raised lips. as laurel screamed and cursed, iliksis pumped and reaped — driving with hellacious force in every swing. it was not a gesture of love, but domination — with each forceful impact meant to drag her face and her soul scathingly across the dirt.