Her ruined shirt caught on a branch, tangling and jerking her awkwardly to the left. Arms wind milling, she tore free of the garment. Snarling and sweating, her hands trembling, she tried to free herself before he was on her again. Refusing to give up, no matter how likely her fall.
The gleam of golden eyes through the gloom mocked her as she stripped. As she whirled and crashed through a bramble, her skin torn with lashes and thorns. Moving before the pain could fully register, she sprinted. Topless. Disarmed. Maintaining a pathetic lead, she knew it wouldn’t be long before she felt yet another blow meant to trip her up. That he’d close the gap between them when he grew tired of this game, force himself into the deepest part of her, and plant his mark in her belly.
Feverish, Renegade squealed. Horrified by the looming loss of her autonomy. Her choices no longer hers to make, she’d be left to bear the consequences. Left to live or die at the whims of the Nine when this infected beast grew weary of the pleasure he would wring from her cunt.
Fate threatening to seep through her resolve, Renegade did the only thing she could. Searchingnotfor a den where she could hide, she looked up. Amongst the trees for temporary safety, a moment of peace where she could catch her breath. A place with a view of her impending doom.
Sobbing at the sight of a worthy candidate, she leapt, catching the lowest branch of the closest tree in palms made raw for the amusement of a beast. She hauled herself up, kicking legs a poor counterbalance, her spine flexing where the phantom of her tail ached to work. Her hands trembled with the flush of terror pounding through her veins.
A snarl chased her higher still. Ringing with surprise, the hunter’s voice an ancient rumble of displeasure she could feel rattling through every one of her vertebrae. Right down to the new base of her spine that itched and pulled. The nerves raw.
Fingers slipping, the leaves shimmered above her. A kaleidoscope of jewel tones that danced as she climbed, hauled herself up and over, then flung herself toward the next branch above.
And the hunter let her go.
He stood sentinel, head cocked, gleaming amber eyes fixed to her back as she evaded his reach. It wasn’t until she’d scrambled over the third branch that she dared to take a breath. Arms wrapped around the trunk, her ribs clattered with the hysterical urge to giggle. Her tears ran in steady drips, cheeks tracked with dust and dirt. Nipples that had merely been bruised, were now chafed from where she’d dragged herself over rough bark, stinging where the salty tang of feral semen had been massaged into her skin. Raw scrapes reddened her belly and hips, everywhere hard edges were no longer protected by her precious cloak. Her undershirt.
Pacing below, the hunter circled her perch. Amber eyes gleaming from a demonic mask, lips peeled back from blunt teeth, he roared again. The sound threatening to burst her ear drums as she clung to temporary safety. Arms and legs wrapped around living wood. Eyes squeezed shut. Ears tucked, her bladder threatening to purge itself in a helpless sign of submission.
Hathoriansubmission, for it was nothing less than what she’d been bred to do when confronted by a male such as this.
An Alpha in his prime. One that wanted to possess what she was. Wanted access to her genetics so he might breed an army and reign supreme.
It was what theyallwanted. Each and every one.
Above her, a high-pitched coo trilled an alarm, and her eyes snapped open.
She was met with a flash of azure. A tiny creature whose blink was reptilian, whose eyes consumed most of an angular, petite skull. No bigger than twice the length of her forefinger, its mouth lined with glass needles. Instead of forearms, it stretched wings tipped in sharp claws, and flexed two tails where it hung inverted. Wrapped around a branch, watching. Head twisting back and forth, the trill of curiosity warbling in sync with its movements.
And then she did cackle. The sound reedy and dry, making the winged lizard coo in sharp alarm. Six eye stalks rose from bony ridges as it came fully awake, glaring at the Hathorian female who’d dared disturb its slumber.
She’d never seen one this close, though she knew exactly the sort of creature she’d stumbled across. Knew they lived in great, hypnotizing flocks and dined in enormous numbers.
The hunter roared again. Rattling her bones and eardrums before he struck her tree with clenched fist, working to turn her sanctuary into kindling.
A thousand winds spread, then. Tiny colorful creatures hissing and trilling in sync. The tree itself was dead. Brittle. Nothing more than a perch filled with a flock of the tiny, ravenous creatures.
Renegade didn’t waste another moment. She reached for the closest, snatched it from its perch, then hurled it down.
It sailed through the air with a shriek of outrage. Twisting and turning as if in slow motion, the tiny creature tried to right itself. Wings flapping, tails lashing about. It sliced through the air—until the hunter struck it with a careless backhand.
With a crunch, it spun in the opposite direction. Quite dead.
But Renegade spared no remorse for the tiny life she’d sacrificed.
She grabbed another.
Scrambling up, she began to pluck living missiles at random. Her fingers closing around slender bodies with razor-sharp edges, she chucked them at the hunter as fast as she could catch the sleepy things. Palms scored by sharp teeth, claws, and two bony blades protruding from the tips of their split tails.
Dodging and weaving, the hunter’s lips were no longer creased in triumph. Amber eyes had lost their possessive gleam, only to be replaced with a crackling blaze of fury.
Renegade hissed, showing blunted teeth. Her ears flat in blatant disrespect, and if she had a tail, it would be held stiff and aloft. Bristling with contempt.
It was all she had left. The flock of flying reptiles her only ally in a ravenous place that would never stop testing her will to survive.
She reached for the branch above her head, feet careful, if clumsy as she crested another rung in her makeshift ladder. And this time, she reached for a tiny lizard still coated in the flaking black skin of youth. A creature too young to shed its camouflage to reveal the color it would bare throughout life.
As if cooperating with the beast below, her next throw sailed through the air and landed in the center of the hunter’s palm.
