The moon was high, and her enemy abroad.
The sky was knit with the shadows of branches like covetous hands. The wind stirred dead leaves and grass. The scent of dew hung thick in the air. Dew, and monster.
Altia inhaled deeply, her nose tingling with the scent of the werewolf. He was here. She knew it. The trail was too fresh to be otherwise. The huntress cranked back the bowstring of her crossbow, the silver arrow shining in the moonlight. Her brown cloak whisked about her, her leather armour fitted to her curves as she stalked through the night. She'd been hunting the werewolf for days. She knew he was here. Somewhere. The chase had been long, but it would end tonight.
There was no path through the forest. Her eyes roamed, intent, peering into deeper shadows between the trees, knowing any might hide her prey. He was clever. Cleverer than she would think a beast was. She had to force herself to remember he was a monster. Not a man. Not anymore. He had abandoned his humanity long ago. Embraced the savagery of the wild. He was a creature. A monster. He needed to be stopped before he infected others.
Her heart beat quick and fast. Her senses strained, knowing he was near. But where? Where!
Above.
The creak of a branch was all the warning she had. She dove, the bulk of the beast slamming into the ground behind her. She twisted to her feet, fired her bow.
The silver lanced through the dark. Cut across thick black fur. The werewolf snarled in pain and straightened.
His eyes were yellow as the moon. His fur dark as pitch and wild as the forests. He stood like a man, but was half again as tall and as wide as the tallest she'd ever seen. His frame was tight with thick, corded muscle, and from his pelt came the stink of musk and sweat and the wild beast. He lifted his arm, a thin red streak against his fur where the crossbow bolt had cut. He growled and licked the wound, never breaking eye contact with her.
Altia was shocked by a throb from her core. A strange sensation that thrummed through her. Familiar yet shocking in the way it made her heart race and breasts ache for this creature's touch. A thought only enhanced when she saw between his legs, the shape of his wedged red cock stiffening beneath him.
She swallowed hard and drew her knife, the edge gleaming with more silver. She braced herself to face him, then charged.
Leaves scattered beneath her feet as she cleared the distance in two great bounds. She slashed, her hunting knife cutting a silver arc through the dark.
Her wrist smacked off his leathery palm. His fingers closed like a steel trap.
She gasped, tried to pull away, but his hold was like iron. His grip tightened and she whimpered as her fingers convulsed, dropping the dagger to the ground.
"B-bastard!" she gasped.
The werewolf merely growled, amusement in those yellow eyes. His other hand rose. She flinched, but his claw merely trailed down her throat, hooked in the collar of her leather.
Tore.
She gasped as he shredded the thick leather of her jacket in a single contemptuous motion. Her full breasts bounced into the open, nipples hard and pink. She flushed as he growled again, hungry. Whimpered as his palm engulfed her plump teat, moaned as he squeezed.
Her head was spinning. The heavy musk stuffed her nose as he yanked her against him, her face coming to rest against his chest. She raised a hand to push him back, but instead her fingers moved down, stroking his powerful form. This... this wasn't right. What was she doing? How could she...
The werewolf chuckled. A sound so human it shocked her. Her heart beat fast as his hand moved from her breast and to her pants, and with another contemptuous motion, tore them to shreds. "Oooooh," she moaned softly as the cool night air brushed the furnace that was her pussy. She trembled, meeting his eyes as he looked down at her, his fangs revealed in a savage grin.
She felt his palm on her head, and he pushed her to her knees. She found herself level with that crimson cock, throbbing with animalistic vitality. Waiting for her. For her to.
To...
As if on their own, her hands rose. "Oh," she murmured as she touched that red, veiny shaft. Felt it throb in her hands. She shivered, licking her lips, meeting his hungry eyes as she shyly stroked him. Her face was so near, she couldn't help but inhale the stinging muskiness of his manhood. Feel her body react in that primal way that knew what to do with such a male. And there was really only one thing to do.
Submit.
Her soft lips parted, and she took the tip of him between them. The werewolf moaned and her tongue burned with the taste. And yet she couldn't stop sliding him deeper into her mouth. Bobbing atop his throbbing shaft.
