Page 124 of Lost to the Woods

Doruun flips me around, his cock still hard as he slides into the mess of my stretched asshole. Tyorin and Khalok kneel close, their cocks crowding into my pussy, making me scream. But the burn is fleeting—just a sharp, sweet sting that melts into pleasure, leaving me craving more. Pain is a caress I now long for.

They move in slow, deep strokes, groaning at the tight heat, their cocks grinding together inside me. My body clenches around them, shuddering through wave after wave of release, my pussy drenching them with each spasm. Everything is just a blur after that, my thoughts scattering into nothing but sensation.

The hunger finally quiets as I take all five brothers at once.

For now.

They collapse around me, their bodies spent, their breath coming in ragged gasps. I lie between them—their goddess, their queen—and I smile to myself, as I run my fingers through their fur, their skin, their cocks.

They’remine—completely and utterly.

This is where I was always meant to be. And it’s only the beginning.

I’m no longer the helpless woman who stumbled into these woods. I’ve become something else.

Something primal.

Something divine.

Something insatiable.

They’ll worship me forever.

Feed the hunger.

Keep the beast at bay.

The woods belong to me now.

28. Epilogue

Tyorin

The woods are quiet tonight. Too quiet. Like something’s holding its breath just out of sight. I’m holding mine too, as I lean against a gnarled oak, watching from the shadows how Bunny stumbles into the campsite, set just off the trail. Her naked body is painted in streaks of crimson that glisten under the moon, bleeding silver light through the bare branches.

She’s perfect like this.

Her chest heaves, her breath coming in ragged sobs, her fingers trembling as she clutches at her arms, like she’s trying to hold herself together. The blood isn’t hers—not most of it, anyway. A few scratches, a bite mark on her shoulder where she’d let my brothers and me play a little too rough earlier. But the rest? The rest is art.

A group of hikers freezes when they see her. Three of them, all men, their faces twisting in shock, then concern, then fear.

Good. They should be afraid.

“P-please,” Bunny whimpers, her voice breaking just right, tears cutting clean tracks through the blood on her cheeks. “Help me—Please—Oh God!” She gasps, staggers, falls to her knees.

The tallest guy in the group rushes forward, reaching for her first. “Jesus, are you okay? What happened?”

Bunny shakes her head violently, her long hair sticking to her skin in damp, tangled clumps—the pink has almost faded by now, revealing bleached blonde.

“They’re coming—” She cuts herself off with a choked sob. “Please, just get me out of here!”

The bearded guy steps closer, his hand hovering like he’s not sure if he should touch her.

“Who did this to you?” he asks, voice tight, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

I bite back a laugh.

“The Hollows…” she whispers with tears spilling down her cheeks.

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