His Lycan Princess | 18+

Ravished by the Beast

I walked hesitantly through the dense undergrowth of the ancient forest, my heart racing in rhythm with each snap of a twig underfoot. The blood moon hung high in the night sky, casting an eerie red glow that painted everything in haunting shades. This was the dreaded night—the night of the Blood Moon, when the village's age-old pact demanded my presence in the forest heart of Slevoria.

My trembling fingers traced the edges of the crimson velvety cloak that enshrouded me, its softness providing little comfort as the cold wind ragged underneath. The chilling fear that gripped me only worsened my situation. The cloak concealed my almost naked body, my only modesty being the thin white undergown I wore. My heart pounded loudly in my chest, each beat a reminder of my vulnerability in this strange and foreboding place.

The fog rolled in, thick and swirling, shrouding the gnarled trees in an ethereal mist. The moon's red glow filtered through, casting eerie shadows that danced at the corners of my vision. Every rustle of leaves, every distant hoot of an owl, sent shivers down my spine. I felt as though a thousand eyes were upon me, hidden in the darkness, watching my every move.

I adjusted the dagger in my pocket, its sharp blade kept prinking my thigh through the layers of fabric, a constant reminder of the promise I had made. To my mother, to grandmother. They were my beacon of hope against the unknown, still with me even when they weren’t near. Clutching the dagger in my trembling hand, I stepped forward, each footfall echoing through the stillness.

The forest seemed to come alive with mysterious sounds—the faint rustling of unseen creatures, the distant howl that seemed to reverberate through the night. I couldn't help but look over my shoulder, my wide eyes scanning the shadows for any signs of movement. The forest's silence was broken only by the sound of my own breathing, ragged and uneven.

I spun on my heel, searching for Lysandra. In the moments before we had entered the forest, her presence had been my sole comfort, the thread of familiarity amidst the uncertainty. But as if swallowed by the night itself, my friend was nowhere to be seen now.

"Lysandra?" My voice trembled, a fragile note in the stillness. The air hung heavy with tension, and the only response that reached my ears was a soft, distant crying, a haunting lament that seemed to reverberate from the very heart of the woods.

I stumbled forward, my lantern casting elongated shadows that danced and swayed around me. Fear clawed at my throat, but my feet carried me onward, drawn by the anguished cries that seemed to grow louder with each step.

“Help!” Lysandra begged. “Someone help me! Celine! Vittoria! Rose!” she called the names of our fellow Slevorians. “Please, please, don’t leave me!”

My heart ached with the knowledge that my friend was in pain, her voice a plea I couldn't ignore. “I am not leaving you,” I promised, searching, moving forward.

The forest seemed to twist and warp around me, each tree a sentinel of secrets, each rustling leaf a whisper of untold warnings. And then, in a clearing ahead, a scene unfolded that chilled my very soul.

Lysandra was there, her form sprawled on the forest floor, bathed in the eerie glow of the blood moon. But she wasn't alone. A creature was with her that sent a jolt of terror through me. A troll. His hulking, misshapen body was a grotesque collage of disfigured proportions. His moss-covered, gnarled skin seemed to fester with deformities, like a canvas of nightmares brought to life. Warts and boils marred his flesh, adding to his nightmarish appearance.

His jagged teeth protruded from his gaping maw, and a drool of noxious green substance oozed from his deformed lips. A tangled mane of wiry, greasy hair framed his grotesque face, and it was impossible to discern any hint of humanity in his monstrous visage. His head was lowered, and he was facing away from me, a terrifying ravenous sound escaping his throat. Something between growling and moaning.

Both Lysandra and the troll were naked. Her cloak and undergown torn into shreds on the forest floor. My breath stalled in my chest, and bile stung my throat. My feet sprouted roots to hold me in place. Lysandra was on her hands and knees, her pretty face twisted in a mask of indescribable agony, tears shimmering in her eyes, her mouth gasping, gaping. The troll behind her dug his fingers into her hair and wrenched her head back, instantly arching her spine in a painful corner that would allow him to have a better opening into that little slit between her thighs. He was about to do some serious damage! He restrained her easily, bowed her to his will. His hands grabbed her breasts and wrapped around her tiny waist, his grisly talons grazing her ribcage, drawing blood. His ass flexed as he stood behind her, getting ready to shove himself inside her. It looked brutal, not what she had hoped for at all. And this, this was not her wolf. This was a true monster. I had to stop him before he hurt her more.

Fear clenched my heart, but I couldn't look away. "Lysandra!" I cried out, my voice a desperate plea. But it wasn't Lysandra who responded—it was the troll.

He turned his head, his eyes were hollow voids, dark and soulless, like the abyss itself. “Well, well,” he growled. He literally growled. “What do we have here, ey?”

"Lysandra!" I shouted again, finding my voice. Her gaze met mine, her eyes were beseeching, pleading. She cried out for help, her voice laced with desperation. Without thought, without hesitation, I rushed forward, my lantern held high, its light flickering against the darkness.

The troll growled, a guttural sound that reverberated through the clearing.

My steps faltered, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Please," I implored, "she's my friend. Let her go."

As if in response to my imploration, the troll stood up. His height imposing, his massively wide frame concealing the moon. "You'll have her place, I take it? Your friend's?" He grinned, flashing yellow fangs.

No.

Nonononono.

He lunged at me, his body a blur of motion. My instincts screamed to run. I turned and fled, my lantern slipped from my hands and all light went out with a hiss, condemning me to a much, much darker fate.