Chapter3.

All I could think was that he would at least kill me quickly, sparing me from abuse.

Strangely, I wasn't afraid. That thought comforted me until I heard Daiane's screams of horror and fear. Then I realized that I was about to die, which was really bad.

The huge black wolf advanced, and I knew I would be his first victim because I was lying on the ground closest to him. I considered closing my eyes and hoping he would kill me quickly, but I didn't.

Where was my fighting spirit?

How could I give up so easily after fighting and surviving all the abuse and contempt in the orphanage for seventeen years? Would I die like this—quietly and resignedly?

Before I could act on this thought, the wolf advanced toward me. For a second, I saw him look directly at me, as if he had noticed something. He changed his path.

I turned around just in time to see him lunge at Paul, tearing off his head in a single bite.

A sharp, horrified scream rang out in the clearing.

Only seconds later, I realized it was me screaming desperately.

Paul's head fell onto the small fire, causing the only light in the area to flicker.

Marius Blaine lunged at Caio and Dany, who had tried to run. He was faster, though, tearing them apart.

Their limbs were torn off and flew across the clearing.

The smell of blood hung in the air, as did fear.

I looked around, searching for Daiane, but she was gone. She had run and left me behind.

I tried to get up as the wolf turned toward me. His paws and teeth were covered in blood—the blood of the other males whose limbs were scattered around the clearing.

My first instinct was to cover my breasts with the scraps of my torn shirt and tie it around me.

Soon after, however, I felt my body losing strength. My knees buckled, and I fell to the ground. I wanted to scream and hit myself. How could I have frozen in terror when Daiane had been quick and smart enough to slip into the bushes and disappear?

Suddenly, the wolf began to change shape.

Its snout turned into a nose, its paws turned into arms, and soon it became a man, almost two meters tall, with pure muscle, completely naked, and with dark hair and narrow, dark eyes that stared at me as if I were his snack.

Why did I leave the house today?

I swallowed hard and picked up the first rock I saw on the ground.

"Stay away from me!" I warned, my voice trembling despite myself.

The man just looked at me, tilting his head slightly to the side.

His gaze dropped to the rock in my hand and then rose back to my face. To my surprise, he smiled devilishly and asked, "Did I interrupt your little party?"

I stared at him in shock, my mouth agape. Not because I thought he couldn't speak, but because I thought he would say something more threatening, like, "I'm going to kill you, drink your blood, and eat your flesh."

Don't judge me. There are many legends about black wolves, and no one who has encountered one has ever come back alive to tell whether they are real.

I could see from his expression that he was mocking me.

"What?" was all I could stammer, holding the rock tightly.

"I think I saved you from them, didn't I?" he said, his expression enigmatic.

The man took a step forward, and I took several steps back, getting into a defensive position.

"Don't come any closer!

Stay there!"

"What will you do if I come closer?" he asked.

To my horror, he started walking toward me.

I couldn't ignore his naked, muscular body. I quickly panicked and threw the stone at him without thinking, hitting him right on the forehead.

"Ah! You didn't dodge!" Why was I saying that? It was good that he didn't dodge; now he would know that I could hurt him. He looked shocked when a trickle of blood ran down his slightly bruised forehead. He touched it with his fingertips and looked at me, looking slightly irritated.

"I can't believe you threw a rock at your savior! How ungrateful you are," he announced. He started walking toward me.

Before I could move any further away, he grabbed my wrists and pinned me against a tree. His eyes were very dark, his eyebrows were straight and thick, and his wavy, dark brown hair was in urgent need of a cut. But why I was noticing this, only the goddess knew.

His hands closed tightly around my wrists. He tilted his head and his gaze dropped to my neck. I felt my heart race at the proximity of this man, who still carried the scent of others' blood on his body.

“Let me go, you brute!” I demanded.

The man looked up at me, a smile curving his lips. He said, "You're coming with me, female."

I was about to say "No way" when he threw me over his shoulder and started walking into the middle of the forest.

"Ah! What are you doing? I'm of no use. Let me go!" I shouted at the top of my lungs as he carried me away.

For several minutes, I screamed and banged against his back, which seemed to be made of nothing but muscle. It was useless.

He carried me along a dense, rocky trail, but his breathing didn't change at all.

I started to feel sick and had no idea how long we had been on the trail or where we were going.

Then, something terrible occurred to me:

He must live alone, and I would be his sex slave!