One ripped my bodice to roughly roll my breast. Gripping it while I writhed, trying to get away from the harsh touch.

His other hand lifted my skirts while two others forced my thighs apart.

I flailed but he managed to wedge himself between my legs.

I considered calling to Lionel for help, but I knew that with my cruel response this afternoon, he'd be trailing far enough behind now, not to hear me.

For awhile.

The goblin's dark skin shined with a pearlescent hue, blooming red and then returning as he flushed with arousal. His long thick member began stretching. Lengthening into the size of a small arm. Stretching like a tentacle as I fought to close my legs. I felt the spiked tip brushing through my lips and forcing between as it strained my entrance, ready to slam in until reaching my womb.

He'd barely have to thrust to spill his vile seed.

I needed help. Or this was going to hurt.

It would take me weeks, if not months to heal.

If I live.

Nearby I saw a puddle.

Still gasping for breath, I crawled backward on my elbows. Making him scamper on his knees to try and get back in range. Grunting in aggravation as he clutched at me. Stretching his male hardness to reach me. The first spikes piercing along my inner lips as they worked deeper.

I summoned every inch of my strength to wrench his hand free of my throat and shriek. "Orin!"

I twisted sideways, spinning the frail, spindly, weight of the goblin sideways toward the puddle.

I barely had a chance to glimpse the mage's green-eyed reflection before his hands were stretching from the water.

The goblin braced himself on two of his fists, stretching from the long bony arms originating from his back.

Orin caught both of them and jerked them through the puddle which was rapidly expanding.

As the goblin, lost his balance, I rolled from beneath him and crawled backward from the water.

The puddle was expanding rapidly. Water burbling and splashing as it came through, layering over the dirt surface.

The goblin's feet were sinking, and his right leg was next. Vanishing under water.

I didn't know what'd happened to the two arms, Orin had pulled through to him, but the goblin was now unable to retract them from the water.

He was screaming and twisting, flopping helplessly like a stranded fish.

Orin's dark hand reached out to catch his throat, pulling him deeper underwater.

Though I was thankful for the help, I wasn't going to hang round to see what would happen.

That water is spreading too fast.

And even if Orin managed to dispatch that goblin, he'd soon be after me next.

I clutched myself as I ran through the trees. Wounded and hurting.

"I hate goblins." I muttered.

I managed to stumble far enough through the woods that I came out over a steep ridge. Barely registering in time, to grip a tree trunk and steady myself.

A large leaf dangled next to my face. A fat dew drop lingering on the tip.

And in it was Orin's face.

Always watching me.

"Please, My Spark." He whined hopelessly. "Come to me..."

"That's what everyone says." I slapped the dewdrop from the leaf. Knowing that if Orin had me, he'd be no kinder than the goblin had wanted to be.

Sheer violence.

Banishing those thoughts from my mind, I stared down below. Seeing that I overlooked a broad crevice in the land, where water had cut a canyon. On the other bank was the glinting gold chain mail of at least four hundred men.

The Pyre Army.

Scouts were roaming along its edge, peering over for a way to cross.

Other men were draining the blood of animals in buckets.

For a snack, no doubt.

But among the milling crowd, one man wasn't moving.

They were all rushing to him with questions. Showing him bits of parchment or pointing to parts of the canyon.

He was nodding and his mouth moved as he gave clear commands.

Even from so far away, I could catch the faint rumble of his deep voice. Though I couldn't understand what he said.

Even as I watched, two more men jogged up to join him.

But he paused what he was doing. Straightening as if sensing something.

Then his head whipped toward, where I stood in the trees, mostly concealed behind the trunk I clutched.

He shouldn't have been able to see me.

But I could tell from the way he twisted his body to align with me, where I cowered, that he knew precisely where I was.

He stared at the spot I hid in as if there was nothing separating us, and he was a half a heartbeat from crossing overtop that canyon to get to me.

Despite the burning pain the goblin had left me in, my mind flipped through memories of its own accord. Finding the one of Gray's slim, tanned hands roving over my body as freely as if he owned it. Expertly plying my skin as though my body were some instrument, he knew precisely how to play.

I could hear the sounds of his approval as he watched me writhing in pleasure. I could feel the heavy hardness of him inside me in that bath. Consuming all my thoughts until I was bending to his will. I could catch the male smell of him, feel his body responding to the sight of mine. Feel that hard body moving against me.

Making me yearn for more.

I slammed the door on those thoughts and pushed myself off that tree. Giving him my back to limp the edge of the ridge.

I have to find another direction.

I don't really recall how much further I'd made it before collapsing from the pain and sheer exhaustion of being awake and so strained for so long. I hit the grass and hoped that Lionel might be close enough he'd stumble across me before something else did.

Like another goblin.

Or that one, if he'd managed to escape Orin's clutches.

I hoped not.

My eyes were so heavy. And sleep was so badly needed, that I'd had no time to consciously protect myself from what I surely knew would come for me.

And he did.

Craven.

The starved incubus waited for me. Always lurking just beyond the dream state to reach across time and grab me.

He used my life force to pull himself to me. Manifesting enough to touch, but not enough to see. Knowing he could keep me at my most vulnerable that way.

Afterall, I'd managed to cut him deeply enough to nearly gut him once.

Something he clearly still remembered.

The incubus didn't need to discover what manner of monster he was. He just wanted to feed on energy through sex and he'd found mine was his chosen drug.

I lay collapsed on my side when he found me.

I felt the cold hands gripping my bicep and recognized his touch.

"Craven...Please..."

"I'll keep our deal." He hissed in his serpentine voice.

He rolled me flat onto my back and slipped his rough, wrinkled hands under the hem of my skirt. Pushing them slowly up so he could feast his eyes on my body.

"Hurt..." I murmured as I tossed my head fitfully. Unable to escape the sleep state he'd trapped me in.

"Ah. I sees. I sees." I heard the sopping sound of him licking his fingers and felt the rubbing of his hand along my wounded parts. Healing where they touched.

I sighed in relief. Knowing it would be short lived but still feeling the momentary reprieve down to my core. "Please, Craven..."

"I nicer. Promise..." He crooned in that drawn out rasp.

I shuddered at the unnerving sound of it.

"Gray..." I found myself whispering hopelessly. Knowing that he couldn't hear it from where he was. And even if he did, it was unlikely he'd rush to my rescue.

Not after all he's done to destroy me...

Craven took the time to adjust my bodice, down under my breasts. Suckling at my lush dark nipples.

A woman picking berries in the woods stumbled across the sight and froze. Mesmerized by what she saw.

One large nipple was being tugged from the areole. Tightening and lengthening rhythmically as the unseen force fed on my flesh. The fleshen tissue around it indented from where his large hands spanned both breasts to caress them up and down. Feeling their softness and testing their weight. Rolling them up enough the crease beneath was visible. Where my bodice was bunched.

His clawed, bare feet wedged between my ankles.

Though I knew, even if I could peel my eyes open, I would see nothing.

That was how Craven liked to feast.