Page 109 of Forcing Fate

I reeled with panic. This was not just Victyr’s attack. He planned to share. My body would be spread amongst six men. My eyes rolled back as consciousness threatened to slip from my grasp.

No—no. Please, no!

“Hey!” His fingers dug into my jaw, keeping my head upright. “Hey! Look at me!”

My gaze snapped forward, locking onto Victyr’s hot and ravenous glare.

“You’ll stay with us. You wanted this. Why else would you have surrounded yourself with men?”

He twisted his little knife in the air with a wicked grin and jerked at something near my waist. My belt. He tugged it free, and I focused on the forest.

I could handle this. I could survive this.

I watched the trees and the dark woods. Tears flowed down my cheeks as I pleaded for anyone—anything. I would take a rogue wolf pack. I would prefer my own death to this.

Trees. Trees. Brush. Trees…

Wait.

I tried to focus my spinning vision.

Was that a tree? Or someone?

Please be someone!

The shadow crept closer as Victyr tore at my trousers.

It was someone—someone big. I could see their mountains of shoulders and thick build. They stuck to the trees. What were they waiting for?! They needed to get help! I needed help!

Victyr cursed. My head lurched to the side as he landed another blow to my cheek. “Why are these so hard to cut through?!” he snarled.

“Just yank them down, Vic.” A man scoffed, followed by amused snickers from the others.

Victyr forced me to face him, holding the blade to my chin. “She’s done playing soldier.” He spit, then looked down in concentration. “I’m going to cut these blasted things off. She won’t be wearing them again.”

When he pulled the knife away, my head rolled forward, and I watched as he sawed through my waistband. Small cuts seeped crimson from the places his blade nicked my skin in his efforts. I whimpered again, and the man on my left jerked me back against the wall. The goon on my left side pulled my head back up so I could see the woods.

I frantically scanned the woods for my last shred of hope…

My heart sank.

It sank so far, past my boots and into the depths of the earth.

There, near the trees at the edge of the woods, a single eye surveyed the scene. His immense body sat dropped into a crouch, the fur vest being one I had seen about—though the man had kept his distance from me. He wore no coat, no cloak, and no sleeves to cover his tattoo.

General Rafe watched.

‘I will stand by and watch. I won’t make a single move to help. You will see me and know that I could have helped but didn’t–’

My eyes drooped closed as Victyr grunted and gave a small cheer. My body lurched with the sound of tearing fabric.

“I said look at me!”

My head was jerked forward and slammed back. My eyes blinked open, but wouldn’t focus. I don’t know why I bothered. I didn’t want to see any of this.

Helplessness crashed over me in waves, drowning me. Defeat overwhelmed my heart like never before. It squeezed so tight—as if it refused to beat.

My sight focused, and I stared behind Victyr as a mountain of shadow tore itself from a tree. Shocked grunts sounded from the men holding me, and they released me.

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