6. Allow Me To Correct You
Haera
His claws cut through the first layer of her clothing in segunds, her lower half more and more exposed to his hungry eyes. She tried her best to press her legs together. To push his hulking, looming frame off her. To kick and to scream and to fight. He was too broad. His arms were too powerful. She couldn’t get a good grip on him through all the thick fur. His thighs were too strong – the way they were holding her open. His grip on her hair, and his claws in her scalp were too painful. She was too weak. She was always too weak .
His revolting cock was alive, throbbing, its knotted base already engorged. He ripped her panties to the side, angling himself at her entrance, pulling his hips back as he prepared to bury himself to the hilt in one violent thrust. She squeezed her eyes shut to block out his leering face. He was staring down at her bare skin, a sick satisfaction in his eyes. She braced herself for the pain.
It never came.
It was bright behind her eyes, like the sun had invaded the darkness inside her mind. The sound of the world around her faded. For a split segund, she wondered whether she was finally dead. A strained, guttural groan pulled her back into reality, frightening her enough that she opened her eyes.
The forest clearing around her was on fire with light. The werewolf between her thighs was now suspended in mid-air before her. There was a being – something she could not grasp. Something beyond explanation – made only of hot, white light. It was standing next to her, a barely discernible arm stretched out towards the freakishly suspended werewolf. Her mind was bending and expanding, trying desperately to understand the scene before her as fear flooded through her over and over like the waves on the shore of Lake Rue.
Without seeing the pillar of light move – without any other indications that it was sentient, she felt its attention shift to look down at her. Her traitorous heart tremored with delight inside her chest from the attention. Warmth spread through her, dispelling the cold shock of the situation. Deep inside her soul, the mate bond snapped into place. Only one syllable of coherent thought entered her mind in that moment.
Mate.
She had been confident in The Fates’ ability to pair mates before this, but now, she was sure they had made an error. This pillar of light could not be her mate. Her mate was likely a werewolf she had managed not to cross paths with up to this point. No werewolf could bend the atmosphere or sheath themselves in light like this. She doubted that even the practitioners of vavzallron across the land, even in the Courts of the king could manage to do such a thing.
The attention on her intensified. She scuttled backwards, dragging her limp body across the snowy ground, her legs weak from shock. Her entire body felt like mush as she scooted away, inch by inch, willing her arms not to give out under her weight. The light…whatever it was, was still focused on her. It had no eyes – at least none that she could see. Still, shame flooded through her.
Just when she felt the tears pushing to the front afresh, the intense attention lifted, and rage like she had never felt before filled her body. She cringed under its weight, freezing in place as it pressed down onto her. Her eyes widened, shock and fear surging through her though it did not manage to displace the anger. The werewolf, who was still frozen mid-air, was staring at her, his eyes darting between her and the pillar of light that was holding him captive.
“Allow me to correct you.” Came a dark, growling voice that shook the ground beneath them.
Floods of rage were flowing through her again, and it felt like her heart stopped beating – like the blood had stopped moving in her veins. Every cell in her body was thrumming with anticipation – like they knew what was coming next.
“The Gods do answer prayers.”
The weight of the statement and the sudden connection in her mind and heart were too heavy for her to bear. Her vision blurred, and black spots danced over everything she could see. Her hearing dulled, and she thought she heard the rumbling voice say something else. Thought she could feel the ground moving beneath her feet. The sudden noise of bones cracking and agonized screams was too much. She flopped over, bare skin to the cold, and heaved up the rest of the contents of her stomach. And then, when the first spray of blood from her attacker’s disintegrating body landed next to her on the snow, she all but gave up the ghost. The world turned black. Finally, there was silence.