The Rut

Lisa's POV

The journey into the woods didn't seem to end. My legs screamed with every step, muscles burning from hours of running.

Beside me, Derek’s breaths came in fast bursts.

The rut was catching up with him, I could see it in the tension of his shoulders, the way his pace faltered.

My own exhaustion dragged at me like a weight, slowing us both until we stopped running and started walking.

Just when I thought I’d collapse, I sighted a small hut ahead, beside the hut was a gushing stream.

“Do you think we lost them?” I asked, my voice low, barely above a whisper.

Derek didn’t answer. He walked toward the stream, dropping to his knees on, and plunged his hands into the water, scooping it up to his mouth.

I watched, rooted to the spot, as it spilled over his lips and down his throat.

After a long moment, he sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “We should be safe here for the night, little wolf,” he said, his voice rough and low. “You should get some rest.”

I nodded, but it was a fake gesture. Sleep? With him like this? My nerves ran with unease. “You did most of the running,” I said, forcing the words out. “You go ahead and rest. I’ll keep watch.”

He didn’t respond, just stared down at the rippling water.

I could tell he was a man that didn't like to talk too much.

I took a step closer, and rested my hand on his shoulder. “Hey,” I said softly, trying to reach him.

He turned to face me, and I froze. His eyes glowed red, and his face darkened with intensity, like an angry tiger.

My gaze dropped before I could stop it, and there it was, his genital pushing against his pants, undeniable and huge.

Heat flooded my cheeks, but a cold spike of fear shot through me. I stumbled back, my heart hammering against my ribs.

“Derek?” My voice trembled, barely a whisper.

Part of me wanted him—God help me, he was huge, beastly, powerful and handsome, and it stirred something deep inside me.

But another part screamed in terror. Male werewolves in rut were aggressive, dangerous.

I’d heard the stories: mates torn apart if they were too weak to survive the sex. And me? I was defective, a wolf who couldn’t even shift properly.

Plus Derek’s strength is like fifty werewolves rolled into one. He could crush me without meaning to.

He tilted his head, those red eyes narrowing. “There’s no other way, little wolf,” he said, his voice thicker now, almost a growl. “I can’t control it anymore.”

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry as sand. “What if I don’t want it?” I whispered, the words fragile, uncertain.

“Then run,” he said, “Run as fast as you can. Maybe you’ll escape me.” He paused, his lips curling slightly. “But remember, running only makes it worse.”

My mind raced, torn in two. Running would trigger his instincts, he’d chase me, hunt me down, and I’d never outrun him, not like this.

But staying… could I survive him? His stare pinned me in place, intense and lustful, and despite the fear clawing at my chest, I felt a shameful heat coursing through my body.

The way he looked at me made me ache, made me wet, and I hated myself for it.

I didn’t know what to do, but standing there wasn’t an option.

Before I could think it through, I turned and ran—not deeper into the woods, but toward the hut.

My boots pounded the ground, and I threw myself inside, and slammed the door shut behind me.

My hands shook as I dragged a heavy oak table across the floor, to block the door.

Then I grabbed a wooden chair and jammed it under the knob, then piled a broken stool and a stone on top, anything to keep him out.

I stepped back, chest heaving, and pressed myself against the wall.

Maybe he wouldn’t follow. Maybe he’d stay out there. But then—bang!—the door shook as Derek slammed into it with his full weight.

I gasped, my hands flying to my mouth. The wood held, groaning under the force.

He hit it again, harder, and I heard a faint crack splinter through the planks.

My pulse thundered in my ears. I scanned the room, and spotted an open window on the far wall.

Fear gripped me like a vice, why hadn’t I seen it sooner?

I bolted toward it, fumbling with the latch to close it, but before I could, the door exploded inward.

Woods flew across the room, and Derek entered through the doorway, his chest rising and falling like the waves of the sea, his eyes locked on me.

I gasped, abandoning the latch to climb out instead. I got one leg over the window, my fingers scratching at the frame, but he was too fast.

In three strides, he crossed the hut and seized me around the waist, bringing me back inside.

I twisted in his grip, kicking uselessly against his iron hold.

With a swift, brutal motion, he tore my clothes apart—shirt, pants, everything, leaving me stark naked.

The fabric fell in tatters to the floor, and the cool air hit my bare skin like a slap.

I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to cover myself, my skin prickling with goosebumps.

Derek stepped closer, his presence overwhelmingly hot.

Gently but firmly, he took my wrists and pulled my arms away. “I want you, little wolf,” he growled.

I shivered, exposed and vulnerable, his red eyes raking over my naked body with a hunger that made my knees weak.

He took another step, and I backed up until I hit the wall, the rough wood digging into my spine.

His scent flooded my senses—earth, sweat, and something primal that made my head spin.

“There’s nowhere to run now, little wolf,” he said, "You're mine now."

“Derek, please,” I whispered, my throat tight.

I didn’t know what I was begging for—mercy, restraint, or maybe for him to close the distance between us.

He reached out, his calloused fingers brushing my cheek in a touch so tender it startled me. “I won’t hurt you,” he said, softer now, though his eyes still blazed with need. “But I need you.”

That touch sent a jolt through me, electric and warm, and despite the terror coiling in my gut, I felt my body respond.

Slowly, trembling, I lowered my arms, baring myself to him completely.

His breath paused, his jaw clenching as he fought to hold onto whatever shred of control he had left.

Then, with a low, guttural growl, he surged forward.

His hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against his hard, huge dick.