Beyond Her Wolfy Knight (R18+)

Chapter 3-Naked Torso

Vivian woke up feeling sated and at peace, for a moment she was confused about where she was. Her hair was as chaotic as the jungle, untamable and wild. Her once remarkable raven curls now vaguely compared with a bird's nest and any clips that had once held them in place were long gone. She notices the place was quite warm, tiny nonetheless homely at the same time. Where could she be? This was like a cottage her Grandma had from Mexico. She began to panic and when she looks down at herself and realizes that she was unclothed, only a warm cotton blanket covered her nakedness.

She glances around and caught sight of her dress lay disregard in the corner. “Oh my God, someone had undressed me?” She stands there for about like eternity. No words came out from her throat. She was beyond mortified. The f**k was wrong with her, wasn't she supposed to be panicking now? She was on a strange land, on a strange cottage, yet she could still feel the moisture down there, and how could she not accept the fact that in her dreams someone was tasting, licking her, and made her screams and moaned for more? She could still feel the tingling sensation of her wet folds like it happens. "How odd." She whispered. How could she look into herself in the mirror now when earlier on her dream someone had managed to make her whimpered and cried out in ecstasy? Cringing, she was indeed embarrassed, still, she couldn't help but think about what happens in her dreams.

Standing up she peered through the tiny window of the small cottage. The early morning sun was giving her uncomfortable feelings, yet she had to squint holding the blanket firmly to her chest, the rising off the sun-scorched from the faraway distance, and she felt suddenly exhausted, and her eyes felt scraped. The heat illusions combined with occasional songs of birds weren't helping her either. The enormous sceneries of her left were a massive lake on the horizon, which made it difficult to maintain an accurate awareness of her mind as her eyesight began blurring. She didn't feel as if her intellect was blazing along at a mile an hour, but it was; in any under circumstances, she should have been thinking a lot slower.

Since the burning bites from the wolves, she notices her body has become weaker and weaker. And it filled her with growing anxiety, "Maybe those wolves had rabies?" She thought, maybe he was too late to regret it, that she was going to screw up somehow or worse die. How pathetic. Her life ended from a wolf bite.

She glanced at the two men angled in front of the massive oak tree, the massive man was sitting on the lumber while the younger with long hair was facing towards her. Half sick with anxiety, her eyes blurring for a complete minute, her head buzzing with pain and heart beating faster, she pressed her hand to where the bite mark and was visible on her arms above her wrist, worried she tried to slow her breathing and not to panic.

Shortly, she then noticed the uneven smoothness of a large path on which mirages of water glistened intersected the lake, the heat phantoms gleamed, and crawled onto the woods. She saw the horse first. It was pulled off distances to the right of the short pathway by a half-naked man a few ranges ahead. Even to the distance, she could almost see his glistened torso. His hair was lazily ruffled, the ebony tips randomly nudged so they entangled into beautiful mayhem. He must be a hair model, how could he have that glossy finish-looking hair? The man's rough features were mesmerizing. His hair, which glistens in the sunlight, and his face was carefully structured. Yet he seems rather amiable with a dashing personality, also with a cold devil-may-care look. Such an odd combination. Her heart pounded harder, and despite the rush of windy air coming from the outside, she broke into a sweat. Who could that be? Where could she be?

From the distance the two men were talking about what had happened to the rogue werewolves, they discover them far beyond the woods near the highway, it was unusual in any occurrences. The two was out hunting for venison when they sniff the scent of the rogues nearby, however, when they got nearer they noticed one died on the side of the road and two other died not far from the first.

“Who could have attacked them so?” Beta Rafael asked Josh, their third in command. When Beta Rafael finds out about the rogue problems he immediately notifies their alpha and runs to his cottage, however, the latter wasn't inside but what he discovers was a woman sleeping on his favorite sofa. What a surprise, he never guessed for his alpha to be interested in anyone who happens to be in the opposite s*x.

“That I don't know sir, but it seems like the one beside the road was wounded and the two was the perpetrator but it was so odd though they ended up all dead...” he trailed off, looking beyond his beta's back he noticed a woman on the cottage windows. Who could that be?

“Who was that woman on the alpha's cottage?”

“Your guess is good as my mine Josh” Turning his head he noticed that the woman was now looking at them and to their back. On cue, the hooves split the silence as a lone stallion rode through their back. The wind wisped his mane into the air like snows; after all, he was a snow-colored beauty. His muscles rippled from under his freshly groomed pelt and his powerful legs. Alpha Walter slowly hurled him forward.

"What's up with you too dickheads?... Gossiping around?" Walter spoke.

"Good morning Alpha." Both responded and bowed their head.

He might sound optimistic but both knew, invading his privacy on his secret lair was forbidden, and deadly. "What made you disturbed my holiday Beta Rafael? Couldn't handle being in charge of my pack? It's only been a week and here you are gracing me your presence."