Chapter Text
Now Zoya’s taking it seriously. “Genya loved her hair,” she keeps murmuring. “Who would’ve done something like this? When—. When did you last see her?”
“Last night,” Alina intones, sliding the last rock into place before she looks back at the tent she and Genya shared. “We were snuggled up next to each other—when I woke up, she wasn’t there, and her blankets were cold.”
“Jesus Christ,” Nikolai moans. Next to him, Nadia is shivering, her eyes wide. “That’s it. We have to go back.”
Alina nods as Zoya twists her hands in her lap, staring at the rock pile, then back to Alina. Then down to her hands, which have gone pale as she rubs them to try and coax heat into her fingers. “Do you think there’s something else in the other piles, the ones we left behind?”
The four of them pack up in record time, even as Nikolai says that he doesn’t think it’s a good idea. That heading back the way they came, to look at what they left behind, is just asking for trouble. “Why don’t we just go back to the ferry?” he asks as he hauls his pack onto his back, Genya’s belongings split between the four of them, all of her things still having been there. Alina does her best not to think why.
“We need to check on the others, that’s why,” Zoya says, her words tight, shoulders turning inward slightly as she starts heading out, Alina shortly behind her, Nikolai perusing the map behind them as though it has anything else to offer. As though it will provide a reason for the reason their friends have died. “And we need to get Mal and Marie home, too. If they haven’t seen Dubrov and Mikhail then we need to all get back to the ferry together.”
None of them say anything about the four piles of rocks that Alina pointed out the day before, and the connection she’d made about the missing travelers from their party. That if one rock pile had Genya’s hair in it, is there now any doubt of what the other four had meant? Alina keeps her mouth shut for now, stomach tight with nerves and what little breakfast she’s managed to keep down, grateful that they’re at least making the trip back to the safety of a more populated area. It’s not the camping trip they’ve all had in mind, certainly. She understands this. But is there any other option for them at this point?
At least she has Zoya on her side this time. The sting of her words hasn’t quite left Alina alone, replaying in the back of her mind, pestering her for more attention than she’s willing to give seeing as they don’t exactly have the time to dwell on hurt feelings or irritations.
But still. It’s there.
There long enough that when Zoya growls in irritation at how long it’s taking for everyone to keep up, she doesn’t say anything about her going on ahead, even though they’ve been walking for hours longer than before and they should have come across Mal and Marie by now.
They lose sight of her after a moment, the dark grey clouds opening up above them in a downpour that was definitely not on the ten-day weather forecast and has them scrambling to find shelter under the trees.
“Zoya!” Nikolai yells, though the noise is swallowed up by a thunderclap that has Nadia trembling next to Alina, the both of them soaked and shivering.
“Zoya!”
Silence, other than the storm. Alina’s stomach twists as Nikolai paces, running his hands through his hair, rain dripping down his face fast enough that they could be mistaken for tears.
“I’m going after her,” he says after a moment, jaw set in determination, eyes steely as he tightens his grip on the backpack. “She could have slipped or something in the rain—. I can’t just not go to her.”
“Nikolai, we can’t split up more,” Alina pleads, feeling Nadia’s eyes on her. Almost accusatory in the weight of their glance. “Just—lets wait a little longer, the storm can’t last that long—.”
“She could have hit her head! Or fallen! She could be dying!”
Something tells Alina that if they continue to split up, they will be the ones dying in the end. But he’s made up her mind, she can tell, and so she watches him go, disappearing into the buckets of rain coming down around them. Alina’s mind flashes back to the forecast, remembers that it wasn’t supposed to rain all week. But then when has anything in this trip gone according to plan?
A voice in the back of her head tells her to keep going, to leave Nadia and keep walking —. But she ignores it, tries not to grimace as she says: “should we try and make camp?”
The ground is muddy and near flooded from how quickly the rain is coming, but it’s worth a shot she figures.
Nadia shakes her head. “No. We should wait for Nik. If he doesn’t come back, then we need to go, too.”
What sense does that make? Alina frowns as she leans further under the canopy of trees, fat, collected drops of rainwater running down her back, arms, and into her shorts. Nadia’s shivering, pulling her jacket tighter around her, and it takes a moment for Alina to realize that while she’s also being pelted by rain, it feels almost . . . warm.
Come to me. Come to me, little one. You’re so close.
Alina’s spine goes ramrod straight, feels the shock of the words that sound as though they’ve come directly from the back of her head, and jolts when she feels a clammy hand touch her shoulder. Nadia’s brows are furrowed. “Alina?”
She’s panting, not cold but sweating now as she tries to blink, finds her lids moving slowly. “Did you—did you hear that?”
There’s real fear reflecting back in Nadia’s eyes, the beginnings of tears in the corners. “H-hear what? That’s not funny, Alina.”
“I’m not joking. There was a voice—.”
A bolt of lightning sizzles down not a mile from them, the air reeking of ozone and petrichor and something far older than the dirt beneath their feet. In the distance there’s a scream. Zoya’s. Pained, begging, strained around the edges in a way that Alina never wants to hear again. “Please! Please, I can’t move!”
Alina watches as Nadia blinks back tears, and steps out from under their small shelter, towards the sound of her. “We—she could’ve been struck, do you think? Or Nikolai?”
“HELP, PLEASE! SOMEONE—NADIA! PLEASE!”
That’s all it takes, and though Alina reaches out to grip Nadia’s wrist, her skin is slippery, soaked through with rainwater.
Go. Go with her, follow her, and come to me my little one. Sweet little girl.
“Nadia, no!” Alina’s shoes nearly stick in the mud as she hurls herself after her friend, the pair of them running, slipping and crashing through the brush. They find the spot the lightning touched down, the pitch-black scorch marks of a felled tree that had crashed down, but no Zoya. No Zoya, whose voice is still high pitched and in pain, howling as though she’s being ripped apart bit by bit. Nadia’s screaming, too, begging her to hold on as Alina begs for Nadia to stop, to slow down. They’re well and lost now in the gathering dark of the storm, heavy gray clouds keeping the sun away, but there’s something familiar enough that it makes Alina pause just steps behind her friend.
Turns her head to the left to see the cave, the very place that Dubrov had broken that orb, and feels the air press in on her lungs once more. Tastes the sweetness in the air and finds her mouth watering as she lets Nadia crash through the trees without her, and instead sets her sights on the cave’s entrance.
It’s shelter, she tells herself, even though she doesn’t think it would matter. There’s no stopping her feet now that they’ve started. Her boots get stuck in the mud just outside the cave, hardly twenty feet from the entrance, and with a snarl of irritation she simply pulls free of them, leaving them behind, socks and all, to step bare footed on the slick grass.
That’s it. Come to me. Come here, sweet thing. Perfect girl. It’s been you all along, hasn’t it?
Has it? Alina’s mouth has gone dry as she steps over the threshold, as her eyes begin to adjust to the gathering dark, and finds a figure hunched over at the back, broad and breathing slowly, with eyes that reflect back like a predator cat’s. There’s a feline grace to its movements as it stands, and Alina feels her heart begin to race, feels her world begin to pitch forward as panic steals the air from her lungs—.
Finds herself falling into hands wide enough hold her body in the palm of its hand, pointed nails pressing against her skin, indenting, ripping through the fabric of her clothes until they’re tattered on the ground beneath them. The body holding her is black as night, black as the shadows that stretch out past the mouth of the cave and keep them hidden, but her hands reach up to the creature’s face. White as bone, sometimes a man’s features, handsome and austere, from a story book of princes and kings and dangerous villains, sometimes the elongated skull and antlered form of a creature whose name feels heavy on her tongue but something she can’t quite bring herself to say.
Its eyes hold her prisoner, pin her in place as she feels the pads of the creature’s hands caress her breasts, leaving her to moan and writhe, eyelids fluttering but never quite closing.
That’s it. Keep your eyes on me, that’s my good girl. Delicious little creature, aren’t you? Desire and fear and desperation. You’ll be a good pet, keep me company, won’t you?
Alina’s nodding, though the words don’t make sense, feeling arousal and desire drip down her thighs as the pad of the creature’s thumb works against her opening. Feels those same claws retract, if only just, before she’s breached by the digit, hardly able to take more than up to the first knuckle before she feels her body begin to tighten and she blinks.
Panics, for the briefest of moments. Feels pain, anguish as her body is opened up, forced to take more more more before her chin is pinched between two fingers and she’s made to open her eyes again.
There you go. Sink. Good. Just like that, just keep your eyes on me, pet, and you’ll have nothing to fear.
In the span of a breath, the fear disappears as the creature promised it would, and the pain with it. It’s voice is a soft croon in the back of her head, and she watches as the jaws open wide in what must be a smile, showing teeth as thick as her wrist, a tongue that drips with saliva before it presses against her mouth, sinks into her throat. Fucks her gag reflex until she can feel her body starting to lock up, the creature’s thumb inside of her pressing deeper, deeper.
Have to get you ready to take me, little one. The sounds you’ll make, I can only imagine. You taste so sweet like this, at my every whim.
Mercy. She thinks the word, clings to it, her hands scrambling for purchase on the creature's other hand that still holds her steady, if only just.
Mercy is for saints, little pet. Not for the likes of you.
She crests, her body locking up as the thumb inside of her flexes, pressing against a stretch of nerves she isn’t even away she has, and the world explodes in sensation and heat. Moaning, she bucks her hips against the creature’s hand, body begging for more even as she feels her mind slip further down, down, down.
Let go. Let go and let me take what is mine.
Does she have any other choice?
Your friends were so delightful, setting me free. They made the most delicious of meals. But you? You I’ll keep.
Keep. It’ll keep her. Good, her mind registers, even as she whimpers when its tongue leaves her throat raw and her cunt gaping as it withdraws from her. Settles her overtop a new perch, hot and slick, pressing at her hole with a persistence that takes her breath away.
Keep your eyes on me, little pet. Breathe deep.
She does, holds the dark gaze as it burns and demands acquiescence, even as she feels herself being split in two. If she thought the creature’s finger was wide, she was hardly prepared for this. Its cock, for that’s the only explanation for what she’s being pushed down onto, made to wrap around, is dotted with raised bumps that slide against her clit as she’s made to take it inch by inch, until she’s certain her body can’t take it any more. Her hips jerk, her knees fold up, but it only makes the pressure more intense, only causes her to choke on the sensation. The further she sinks, the wider it flares, and even as she kicks, squirms against the hand that holds her around the waist and drags her down, she knows there’s nothing she can do but take. And take. And take.
Finds herself seated finally, hours or minutes later, on the creature’s length, certain that she’s delirious and dreaming now, that there’s no way her body can take all of this without magic or some deal with the devil, her every nerve ending taut and stinging.
Plants her feet down when it tells her to, and lets the creature lift her, then bring her back down; the heat of the creature's balls are warm against the curve of her ass every time it bottoms out inside of her.
Perfect little cocksleeve. Made for me, yes you’ll be mine forever. My little human, little pet. Going to learn to take all I give you and more.
She was. She would. Above the screaming of her mind’s own voice telling her that it was all too much, above the strange sensation of fullness that she was certain she’d never feel again as the creature carved space inside of her that hadn’t been there before, was a strange sense of peace. Giving in would be easy. Preferable. Why shouldn’t she give in? It makes sense, she thinks, as the creature’s hand grows tight, just enough to comfort rather than hurt, and she lets her head loll back onto its hand. Feels her orgasm sneak up on her, dragging her further under as the being in front of her bares its teeth at her once more.
Comes without warning until its dripping down between them, until she’s certain she can taste its spend on her tongue, salty and sweet and earthy enough to make her toes curl.
Her body tenses up, coming for a second time, as the creature pulls out of her and lays her onto the cold ground beneath them so it can lap at the mess between her legs. Her hands find purchase on the horns, body overly sensitive and hips jerking without her control as she struggles to find air enough to breathe.
When it finally finishes, it curls up around her, pulling her closer to what can only be described as its chest, black fur—shadows? she can’t tell just yet—warmer and softer than her coziest blanket.
You’ll do nicely to raise my brood, little pet. Sleep now. Sleep while you can.
She does, the sound of the rain on the roof of the cave and the deep, endless breaths of the being behind her, around her, enough to soothe what’s left of her consciousness to sleep.