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Summary
Her wrists burned, chafed raw from the rope binding her wrists, by the time she was dragged, stumbling into the camp.
She couldn't fathom what they intended with her. Terror clenched her heart: perhaps they intended to feast on her.
But surely not; they might all be strangers to her forest, but they had to know that to kill and worse, to devour one of her kind was to be cursed by the ancient ones. They had to, right?
She shuddered, trembling in terror as the throc's hand pressed on the back of her neck, pinning her to the tree, his broad palm spanning from shoulder to shoulder and partway down her back. The other was just as unhesitating as it splayed across her flat belly and down further to round her hips, rump and on down her thigh. Dread began to pool with nausea, both beginning a slow, biting crawl up the back of her throat.
She whimpered, frozen with terror as the large throc yanked at her deer-like tail, causing her to arch her back with a soft cry of pain and surprise. Behind them, the handful of onlookers jeered.
It was only a heartbeat later that she understood why.
The hot, thick length suddenly pressing against the back of her thigh more than made it clear.