Page 5 of Ruining Red
It’s not the same as a lover’s embrace, but it will have to do.A howl breaks forth, scattering the wildlife around me.No doubt it will add to the stories floating around in the village down below.But more importantly, I hope my little red hood hears it.
I hope it hastens her steps, taking her ever closer to the matriarch.The quicker she can be ensconced within those wooden doors, the sooner she will be mine.At this point, I no longer care if she’s in fact an omega or not.
My wolf wants her.
I want her.
She will be mine.
The very thought sends cum surging up, splattering the leaves with thick, hot ropes.Groaning, I continue to milk my knot, squeezing every drop out into the snow.The frost melts away, eradicated by the heat.
Heaving, I stand there, watching my seed as it slides over the dead and dormant foliage, dripping onto the ground below.If only I were indeed a god and not just some cursed animal forced to roam about, masquerading as a man.If only I had the power needed to secure her by my side, sacrifices be damned.
But then, there is something to be said about granting my wolf a hunt.It’s been nigh on eighteen years since I’ve allowed him that sort of free reign.My lips split into a feral grin as I pull my pants back up, stuffing my cock behind the confines of fabric and buttons.
Little Teagan is still out there waiting for me, and I must oblige her need.Prowling forward, I follow my nose, tracking her down until that dark, muted red flashes at me from between swaying limbs and pointed evergreen needles.Her fear is palpable, an acrid stench that has my cock swelling again.
I will most certainly save her from the impending sacrifice, but who will save her from me?
Chapter3
Teagan
The trees dip and sway, churning my stomach with each swish of their snow-laden branches.The white flakes pick up both speed and volume, threatening to blind me as they strike at my eyes.Clutching my stomach, I brush them away, marveling at how I’m still so dreadfully hot.
It must be the cloak.It’s the only explanation, and yet, I don’t dare take it off.Instead, I draw it around me even closer, a ward to keep me safe.I drag the crisp air into my lungs, forcing myself to breathe in and out in an even cadence.
Though it’s a struggle, my body finally calms down enough for my heart to stop thundering in my ears.That is, until that unnerving howl sounds through the trees once more, skittering up my spine like thousands of spiders crawling over me.The sound alone drives me to my knees, down into the snow.
I kneel there, unable to move or even think.Dampness seeps into my bones, but I barely feel it.The only thing I’m aware of is the throbbing between my thighs.Unable to take it anymore, I reach in between my legs, probing the area.
Am I injured?My fingers slip across the seam of the dreadful part of me that I should never touch.But this time is different.I have to seek out the source of this discomfort and make it stop.
A whine lodges in my throat as slick wetness coats my fingers.I am injured then.My hand trembles as I pull it back, and I brace myself for the bright vermillion that’s sure to coat my digits.But not a speck of red is visible.
A clear sheen coats my fingers and I marvel at what sort of witchcraft turns blood clear.At that moment, another howl rents the sky, reminding me that I’m not safe.Wolves are a bad omen, and this one sounds close.
If memory serves, they only appear during times of death and rebirth, and since I’m nowhere close to being born again, it can only signal my death.Again, my heart picks up speed, pounding so fast, so loud, that my limbs tingle.
Perhaps I’m closer to death than I originally thought.Forcing my gaze upward, I note the spiral of smoke off in the distance.If I can just make it to my grandmother’s, then I’ll live.I just know it.
She will keep me safe in her home until this threat has passed.Move, I scream in my mind.But my body does not respond.Gritting my teeth, I dig my fingers into the frigid ground, not caring about the pain spearing through me.It’s the jolt I need to snap me out of whatever it is tethering me to the spot.
Grunting, I haul myself up to my feet and force one step in front of the other.Pain lances through my heart with each inch of ground I gain.Something doesn’t want me to make it.Something wants me to die alone in the woods.
Unbidden, my mind goes back to the stranger.I was doing well until him.Granted, I still felt as if I was on fire, but I could move of my own free will.Talking to him must have linked us together in some unholy way.This must be why I was commanded never to speak to anyone in the forest.
Soft sobs vibrate in my chest as I claw at the trees lining the path.I use them to hold me up, to push off of as I hobble my way over to the next.Searing pain slices through my midsection, forcing me to cry out.
Catching my breath, I look around, terrified that the sprites of the woods are listening, waiting for me to stop just long enough to drag me deep into the bowels where I’ll never be seen again.That image alone is what gets me moving, redoubling my efforts.The pain begins to dissipate, allowing me to breathe once more.
Perhaps I’m wrong and this is all a test?Though others before me have made this journey to see the matriarch, no one mentioned anything like this.But then, why would they?If you anticipate the test, you can figure out ways around it.
If I am indeed to be the next in line, I must show my strength.Relief floods my system, leaving me dizzy.Of course.That’s all this is.Some arcane way of ensuring I’m fit to take over and lead the village.
Emboldened, I straighten my back and walk unencumbered.No longer do I need to seek out trees to assist me.The matriarch needs no such devices, and neither will I.It’s simply a case of mind over matter.
Those pretty thoughts, however, do nothing to quell the vibrations quivering my insides.I wish I could make it stop, to feel normal again.Clutching my midsection, I readjust my grip on the basket and force my way forward.
