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The leaves crunching under your boots are too loud, but you can’t slow down. Strategy means nothing when the predator is already on your trail, hunting the weak link of the herd- the straggler. Hiding isn’t an option when the beast already has your scent; the only possibility of safety is distance, to get out of these woods, out of his territory. Your thighs burn from the buildup of lactic acid, and you can hear your heart pounding in your ears. You don’t hear him, but you know he’s there, that he’s close. A long-buried instinct warns you that you aren’t safe, that you can’t stop, can’t call for help, can’t breathe, or he’ll catch you- he's going to catch you.
This was supposed to be a routine mission, more of a task really based on the intel you had received through your hunter's watch. Nero had seen a short spike of protoenergy in the woods near No-hunt Zone number 7. The energy had already dissipated, but Jenna had sent a request for any nearby hunters to just scout out the area and see if there was any evidence of what caused the fluctuation. A quick peek in the woods, it had sounded so simple. You just happened to be in the area. Sure, you were alone, but the brief didn’t suggest that there would be any combat, and you had your guns if there were any complications.
When you arrived at the marked location on your map, all you saw was the body of an impressively large wanderer. It was only when you got closer to inspect the corpse that your stomach began to turn- that the hairs on the back of your neck raised. A chill swept through you as you saw the wanderer had been torn apart, claw marks creating a cavern in the thing’s chest. What the hell could rip through the stony exterior like that? Pushing down your fear you raise your phone to take a picture for Nero to analyze- you can investigate more with backup. Or maybe Jenna could send another team- it doesn’t matter, you just want out and quickly. You turn to leave and freeze; a deer in the headlights of a barreling semi-truck. Yellow eyes are staring at you from up in the tree branches, hidden behind the canopy of leaves.
For a moment you just stand still, overwhelmed by terror. It’s not a wanderer, but it certainly doesn’t feel friendly. Achingly slowly you move your hand to pull your gun from its holster, afraid of breaking the stalemate but too vulnerable without a weapon in hand. You’ve just curled your fingers around the handle when it moves. An echoing thud signals that it has landed on the ground; you rip your gun out of the holster, dropping your phone in your hurry to switch off the safety.
“Don’t move!” you call out- the tremble in your voice softening the command into a plea. A low chuckle is your only response. A person? You can’t see clearly the shadows of the forest have camouflaged your observer. “I’ll shoot,” you warn and pray that he can’t see the shaking of your fingers as you move to the trigger.
“You can try,” a deep voice counters, “but it won’t go well.”
The response does nothing to assuage the rising panic you feel overwhelming you. You’re a deepspace hunter, formidable in your own right, but right now feel like a wobbling fawn abandoned by the herd. You feel like prey.
But you won’t go down without a fight. You aim your gun in the direction of the voice and pull the trigger. In the wake of the shot, there is only silence. For a second, you feel safe. Your heart begins to race again though, when the sound of a low chuckle fills your ears. You just tried to shoot the bastard, and he found it amusing. Fuck this, you think to yourself and you turn and run.
You haven’t warmed up, but you’re fast anyway- the fear a better motivation than Jenna’s commands during drills. But in your panic, you hadn’t even looked at the direction you were running in, and you certainly hadn’t stuck to a path. You slow for a moment, trying to get your bearings so you can get out of this forest and back to safety. But then you hear footsteps and that voice from earlier calls out.
“That the best you can do?”
You spin and take off in the same direction as earlier, still hopelessly lost but desperate to get away- to get anywhere that isn’t here. You run even as your lungs burn with discomfort, unable to get a deep breath as you sprint. He’s on your trail- you can feel his gaze on your back no matter what turn you take or what tree you dart behind. Foolishly, you turn your head- the anxiety forcing you to check and see how close he is. It’s the biggest mistake you could have made.
Your blind running is halted as you trip over the raised root of a tree, pain temporarily paralyzing the fear as your ankle twists and you crash to the ground. You scramble to turn around, twisting your body so that you’re sitting and looking in the direction you came from. A man emerges from the greenery, his gold eyes shine with amusement as they observe you. He’s massive, his arms firm with muscle, and even from here you can see the thick veins that run along them. A mask hides the majority of his face, but you can see his red hair and- ears? Are those wolf ears? You stare dumbfounded even as he approaches.
“A nice chase,” the... man? says as he moves closer to your position. “But I think we can call the victor here.” He sounds amused, as if you had been playing a game together.
“What are you?” you can’t help the question that slips from your mouth. It’s not the right question; you realize that even before his golden eyes harden.
“An experiment,” is his only response. He’s reached you now, and he bends down to examine your bent ankle. You hiss as he wraps his long fingers around it; his hand is so large that your leg looks delicate in his grip. “Just a sprain.” He moves his hand and goes to lay your leg back down, his fingers featherlight on your calf.
You blame the adrenaline for the rush of desire you feel, the heat that takes over as you watch this stranger move you like a toy. The man moves even closer to you and reaches out for your hand when he suddenly freezes. His eyes flash with realization as he gazes at you, and even through his mask you can feel him start to grin. “Oh,” he murmurs as your face flushes. He moves like lighting to join you on the ground, his face hovering directly over your lap.
“What are you doing?” you stammer out, horrified that he somehow knows about the surge of lust that overtook your senses. The lust that doesn’t dissipate even as he presses his masked face between your thighs and inhales.
“I wear the mask to control my senses,” the stranger states. “But even with it on your cunt smells delicious.”
You’re so embarrassed that you almost wish he had been trying to kill you. The feeling of self-consciousness lessons though as he pushes the mask even closer, rubbing grooves of the polymer into your clothed cunt. Your hips buck involuntarily at the feeling, and you cry out. “Ah!”
The answering rumble of a laugh makes the mask practically vibrate, and your eyes roll to the back of your head at the friction.
“Valko,” the man says, as if your fuzzy brain is supposed to understand what the hell that means while he continues to nuzzle your groin. You should probably ask him what he’s talking about.
“Wha-” you gasp. It’s not exactly eloquent, but he seems to grasp what you are asking.
“My name is Valko,” he explains, and you stammer out your own name in response. The reminder that this man- Valko is a stranger to you brings you back to your senses and you start to move away. He growls at that- and pulls you back by your waist rolling you so that you’re perched above his masked face. You try to lift yourself, but he digs clawed fingers into your hips, hard enough to sting without drawing blood. “Sit,” he demands.
The rational arguments you have disappear into ether as he lifts his masked face and rubs it against your core. You listen to his command and sit down, rocking against the mask. You’re still in your hunter’s uniform, this man is a complete stranger- possibly an enemy, and you are lost in unfamiliar territory. None of that matters though- not compared to the building tension inside. Your hands move to push down your shirt and bra so that you can tweak the perked nipples as you thrust your hips back and forth. Valko moans at the sight above him and his own hips rock into the air. One of his hands moves from your hips, seemingly satisfied with your compliance. He reaches down to his pants and pushes them down just enough to free his cock. Your eyes widen at the size of him, the thick veins pulsing, and the tip leaking precum that he uses to wet his hand as he begins to stroke himself. He’s beautiful but intimidating and your cunt throbs at the thought of him inside you. You rock your hips faster, and you can see Valko’s mask begin to glisten even though you’re still fully dressed. The hand on your hip helps you move- faster and deeper the tension building even higher as you pant from the exertion. He growls, vibrating the mask once again and your orgasm crashes over you.
You slump over him, satisfied but so exhausted that you barely move as he finishes himself. Your eyelids are lowering, sleep looming in your periphery after the loss of adrenaline. You're barely conscious as Valko picks you up, holding you over his shoulder like a hunter with his catch. “Where are we going?” you murmur, almost too tired to care.
Valko barks out a laugh. “Well if I’m gonna knot you- I need to take you to where you can nest.”