CW: rape
Time frame: flashback
Before long, a group of powerful-looking men, likely high-ranking members of the ShadowNight Pack, entered the room.
Their eyes assessed and selected, the glint of a predatory smile gracing their faces as they surveyed the group of Moonlit Clan girls. Each man seemed to make his choice, their intentions clear and chilling.
As the men approached, a sense of dread settled in the air. The girls' hearts raced with a mixture of fear and anticipation, their breaths shallow as they tried to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible.
Their eyes darted nervously between the approaching figures, their minds racing with thoughts of what was to come.
The grins on the men's faces were like a cruel omen, a foreboding sign of the fate that awaited the chosen girls.
Their smirks held a twisted satisfaction, a testament to the power they held over their captives.
With calculated efficiency, they each singled out a Moonlit Clan girl, their predatory gazes locking onto their targets.
The chosen girls trembled, a mixture of shock and terror rippling through them. They fought against the hands that reached for them, their screams piercing the air as they struggled against the inevitable.
It was a futile resistance, their strength no match for the overpowering might of the men who held them captive.
As the girls were forcibly taken from their midst, their screams echoed through the room, a chorus of agony and desperation.
Freya's heart clenched as she witnessed the violent separation, her own tears mixing with the heart-wrenching cries that filled the air.
She pressed her hands to her ears in a feeble attempt to block out the sound, her body shaking with a mixture of grief and helplessness.
The room seemed to shrink in on itself, the walls closing in as the guttural cries reverberated off every surface.
The once somber atmosphere now felt suffocating, thick with the weight of fear and despair. The other girls clung to each other, their faces etched with a combination of horror and sorrow, united in their shared trauma.
Freya's chest heaved with each sob that wracked her body, her vision blurred by tears that fell unbidden.
She felt a profound sense of powerlessness, a realization that their lives were at the mercy of those who held them captive.
The memory of the girl who had been made an example haunted her, a stark reminder of the brutality they faced.
The departure of the chosen girls was accompanied by a symphony of terror—a cacophony of screams and pleas that reverberated through the room.
The sound was deafening, a painful reminder of the vulnerability they all shared. The air was thick with the scent of desperation, an invisible cloak that enveloped them all.
As the room emptied of the chosen girls, the remaining Moonlit Clan members were left to grapple with the aftermath.
Their tears mingled with the palpable tension, a collective grief that bound them together in their shared suffering.
They huddled together, seeking comfort and strength in each other's presence, knowing that they were all they had in this nightmarish ordeal.
Then Fenrir entered the room, his presence filling the space with an unsettling aura. He stood before Freya, his imposing figure casting a shadow that seemed to stretch across the room.
Freya cowered in a corner, her body instinctively curling into a protective stance as the intensity of his gaze fixed upon her. His eyes bore into her with a chilling intensity, a predatory gleam that sent a shiver down her spine.
She could feel the weight of his gaze on her, a gaze that seemed to strip away her defenses and leave her exposed. His eyes roamed over her body openly, his blatant scrutiny feeling invasive and degrading.
Without a word, Fenrir closed the distance between them. His hand reached out, fingers curling around her arm as he effortlessly lifted her into his arms.
Freya's heart raced, panic coursing through her veins as she shook her head in silent protest. But Fenrir paid no heed to her fear, his grip unyielding as he carried her into another room.
The journey felt like a surreal blur, her surroundings becoming a dizzying mix of sensations as fear and confusion clouded her thoughts.
The room they entered was dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls like flickering specters. Freya's breaths came in ragged gasps, her heart pounding in her chest like a drumbeat of dread.
Fenrir's lips curled into a sinister grin, a chilling expression that sent a wave of unease crashing over Freya.
Her body tensed as he set her down, his presence looming over her like a dark cloud. His eyes, filled with a hunger that was both unsettling and predatory, remained fixed on her.
In his eyes, she was like the first snowfall of winter, untouched and pure. Her hair and brows, white as snow, her skin as pale as paper, and her captivating emerald eyes—she was a vision that ignited a primal desire within him.
She felt like a cornered prey, his gaze stripping away her sense of control and leaving her vulnerable to his whims. The air was thick with tension, every moment stretching on in torturous anticipation.
Freya's instincts screamed at her to run, to escape from the impending danger that emanated from Fenrir. But her body felt rooted to the spot, her limbs heavy with a mixture of fear and disbelief.
Fenrir's gaze never wavered, his intentions clear and chilling. Freya's emerald eyes, wide with fear, met his gaze in a desperate plea for mercy. Yet the coldness in his eyes only deepened, his intentions undeniable.
With each passing moment, the room seemed to close in on her, the shadows growing more menacing as they danced around them.
Freya's heart pounded in her chest, her breaths shallow and rapid as the reality of her vulnerability settled in.
Fenrir's desire was palpable, a sinister energy that hung in the air like a suffocating fog. Freya's body trembled as he advanced, her instincts screaming for her to fight, to flee, to do anything to escape this nightmare.