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"There is no turning back now," he taunted. I could hear the rustle of leaves above, the sound of something heavy and graceful moving through the dark. "The braid is gone. The trail is lit. Do you truly think you can hide from the Master of the Nest when the moons have turned his blood to fire?"

I held my breath, my knuckles white as I gripped the fabric of my skirt. I felt feral, exposed, and desperately needy. When the silence stretched out for too long, my curiosity—the same trait that had nearly gotten me killed a dozen times on this planet—got the better of me. I slowly, quietly, began to peek my head around the side of the shrub, my eyes straining to catch a glimpse of red skin or golden markings.

"Searching for something, little human?"

The whisper was right against the back of my neck, hot and humid.

"Shit!" I yelped, jumping so hard I lost my footing. I tumbled forward, hands scraping against the moss as I scrambled to get away, then spun around to sit up on the forest floor.

Kaelen was standing there, towering over me. He looked like a god of the hunt. His markings no longer just glowed; they were a vibrant, pulsing gold that cast long, flickering shadows against the trees. His chest was heaving, his skin still smeared with the dark ichor of the beast he’d killed. He slowly licked his lips, his eyes black voids of intent as they tracked the way my chest heaved under the fur.

"That wasn't much of a hunt," he rasped, his voice thick with a dark, satisfied amusement.

"Yeah, well," I panted, trying to play it cool while my whole body was vibrated like a tuning fork. "I don't exactly have an upper hand here, Kaelen. I don't have the height, the claws, or the... whatever-the-hell-else your kind has to move as you do"

I tried to shuffle backwards on my rear, my eyes locked on his, but he just stepped forward, matching my pace with a predatory, hip-swaying grace. I panicked for a second, my instincts screaming move, and I turned to crawl away, my fingers digging into the soft moss.

I didn't even get a yard.

A hand snapped out with the speed of a striking viper, fingers locking around my ankle like an iron shackle. With one effortless tug, Kaelen dragged me back toward him across the moss. I let out a sharp gasp as he crawled over me, his massive weight caging me in. He was on top of me, his chest pressing into my back, pinning me flat against the cool, damp earth.

The heat coming off him was staggering, a literal furnace of Oru-ka biology. He leaned down, his nose grazing the back of my neck as he inhaled sharply. It was a deep, shuddering sound of a man drowning in a scent he couldn't get enough of. He nudged my hair over my shoulder with his nose, exposing the pale line of my throat.

Then, he licked.

His tongue was hot and slightly rough, dragging across the sensitive skin of my shoulder and up toward my ear. I let out a whimpering, pathetic sound I didn't recognise as my own.

"Let's make it more fair, then, shall we... little human?" he whispered against my ear. He nipped at the lobe, his teeth grazing the skin just hard enough to sting—and to make me involuntarily squeeze my thighs together in a desperate, pulsing reflex.

His hand trailed from my shoulder, down the length of my spine, his claws lightly—so lightly—scratching the surface of my skin through the gaps in the leather and fur. I shuddered, the sensation a dizzying mix of sharp pain and overwhelming, drugging pleasure.

"What do you mean, fair?" I managed to choke out, my face pressed into the moss.

"You have three chances to run," he said, his voice a dark, inescapable promise. "One down. Two to go. But be warned, Ly-ra... each time I catch you, the price will increase. I will take more of your breath. I will mark more of your skin. Until you finally break and beg me to end the hunt."

I couldn't even think straight. My brain was a fog of wine, moonlight, and pure, unadulterated lust. I just nodded, turning my head over my shoulder to look up at him. He was gazing down at my body from behind, his expression a terrifying mask of possessive fire.

His hand slipped under the slit of my skirt, his fingers calloused and warm against my bare thigh. He moved higher, the emerald vines on my outfit pulsing a frantic green as his claws found the thin fabric of my underwear. With a sharp, casual flick of his wrist, the fabric tore away like it was nothing.

He didn't move. He was waiting. He held back, and I could feel the absolute tension in his muscles, the sheer force of his will keeping the beast at bay.

I couldn't take the waiting. The emptiness was a physical ache. I raised my hips slightly, pushing my arse back against his groin in a silent, desperate invitation. "Do it," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Kaelen, please. Don't make me wait."

"As you wish," he growled.

His growl was a vibration I felt in my bones. He didn't hesitate.

He drove a thick, long finger into my pussy from behind—hard, fast, and deep. I screamed, my back arching like a drawn bowstring, every nerve ending igniting. His finger began to pump, a relentless, punishing rhythm that stole my breath. I could hear the wet, slick sounds of his intrusion, each thrust a filthy, beautiful anthem.

Oh, god. Oh, god.

I was a quivering, moaning mess. My hands clutched at the moss, fingers tearing through roots and soft earth as I chanted his name, a broken litany. "Kaelen… Kaelen… yes…" My body reacted on a primal level I couldn't control. My internal muscles clenched around his invading finger with a desperate strength, trying to pull him deeper. My vision blurred, white-hot stars dancing at the edges. He was so big. The stretch was exquisite, a bright thread of pain woven through a tapestry of overwhelming pleasure.

"Take a deep breath, Ly-ra."

His whisper was dangerously low, his breath a hot gust against the sweat-damp skin of my neck. I barely had time to drag a ragged inhale before I felt it—a new, impossible, stretching pressure. A second blunt, demanding pressure, right there. He shoved his second finger into my arsehole.

The sudden, dual invasion made me cry out, a sharp, guttural sound that was pure shock. It was a jarring, devastating mix—the sharp sting of new territory breached, obliterated by the soul-crushing, full feeling of being occupied completely. He was pulling me apart, filling every secret, clenching space.