Willow's POV
They were dragging me further and further away. Farther into the cover of the pitch black blanket of darkness. Not one set of hands. Not even two. Maybe three or maybe four. There were numerous pairs of hands upon my skin. Clawing at me. Pulling me away.
No no no.
No.
I screamed out for my mate, but only within the walls of my own head. The mate link was my only connection to him. Even that was hardly working. As a hand was clamped tightly over my mouth, my voice was rendered useless.
My mind had not even seconds to process what was going on. I was left thrashing and fighting with whatever drunken strength was in me. And my wolf, she was there. She was clawing and clawing and clawing, but my attackers had subdued her the moment they stole me away.
My strength was gone. All of it, sucked from me as if it had never existed. Wolfsbane-It must've been wolfsbane. Only that could-
A fist being sent into my stomach, knocked the wind right from me. All the air from my lungs was gone. The worst part of the punch was the sheer fact that I couldn't scream. My pain was kept bottled within me.
Another punch landed on me.
A strangled cry was the only sound I could emit. Why were they hitting me? Why were they after me? Their faces were kept covered by the mask of the nighttime sky. All of my senses that made me strong, that made me a fighter, were all taken. And they were reveling in it, laughing at me from each and every direction.
Like demons in the night.
Who was I to them? Where were they taking me?
Terror flooded me just as questions did, and yet the only thing that I could think to do was fight. Fight like my life depended on it. Because right there, it did. My best fighting chance was to make noise.
As hard as I possibly could, my teeth clamped down on the hand covering my mouth. Iron was fresh and wet on my tongue, as a loud and irate hiss flew from the lips of one of my captors. The hand was ripped right from my face.
Retaliation was sure to come my way. My chance, my best chance, was then and there. The most ear piercing scream that I could muster up, bolted from my lips like a stampede of mustangs. The sound was short lived.
The bones in my face cracked as a fist harder than stone collided with it. My neck snapped back and suddenly my body was slammed against the damp Earth. I was flat on my back with hands pinning me to the ground. They were strong hands with a steel-like grip.
"Do it now, before her mate comes," A male said.
Do it?
Do what-
The hem of my dress was torn, the sound of shredding fabric the only thing to be heard. The bloody hand that had only been gone from my mouth for a moment, was there again. My very own heart was crying out for help.
I wanted to cry out for help.
This couldn't be happening. Was it really happening?
Their hands returned to me. The calloused and bony fingers grabbed at me like skeletons. Their touch left my skin shriveled and goose-like.
This wasn't happening.
No,
It couldn't.
Please. Please. I begged someone, anyone. The fight of my wolf could be felt, as she battled the effects of the wolfsbane against her. She was trying. But she wasn't succeeding. Not fast enough.
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The Pack Thief
वेरवुल्फ़There is nothing stronger than desire. Nothing more potent than fulfilling the human desires that even the most powerful fall victim to. Desire to love. Desire to become rich... Desire to take his pack. Twenty year old Willow is the daughter of two...
