When lambs are being chased, they run as fast as they can.
But no matter how fast they run, the wolves always catch them.
"Get her! Catch her!"
The voices tore through the night, a twisted harmony of snarls and laughter. Luna didn't know if they were men or beasts—perhaps, in this world, they were one and the same. She didn't dare look back.
One wrong step, and it would all be over.
'I have to run. I have to escape—'
Her bare feet pounded against the forest floor, raw and bleeding from jagged stones and thorny undergrowth. Every step sent lances of pain shooting through her, but she couldn't stop.
The icy night air burned her throat, her lungs screaming for relief, but she only pushed forward. Her heart slammed wildly against her ribs, every frantic beat a reminder of how close they were, how little time she had left.
'There has to be a way out—'
"Help…" she whimpered, but the sound was swallowed by the rustling trees and the howling wind.
Behind her, the chase grew louder—the crunch of leaves, the snap of branches, the heavy, deliberate footfalls that never faltered. Low, guttural chuckles slithered up her spine like icy fingers, taunting her, savoring her desperation.
"HELP ME!" she screamed, raw desperation clawing at her throat.
Laughter.
Low. Amused. Cruel.
The werewolves were laughing at her.
"Help me! Somebody! Please!"
Mocking her.
Playing with their prey.
Then, a shift. A flicker of movement in the periphery.
Luna's breath hitched as the thick trees suddenly thinned ahead, revealing an open field bathed in silver moonlight.
'The exit!' A surge of hope shot through her veins. She just had to push forward—just a little more—
A shadow moved.
Something massive dropped from the trees, landing in front of her with a thunderous impact.
Luna barely had time to react before she skidded to a halt, her legs unable to handle the abrupt change in momentum. She tumbled forward, crashing onto her hands and knees. Her fingers dug into the dirt, her breath coming in short, frantic gasps.
Towering over her was an enormous wolf, its auburn fur kissed by the moonlight, gleaming like fire and blood. Its golden eyes glowed with wicked amusement, its lips pulling back to reveal sharp fangs in a slow, knowing grin.
"Going somewhere?" The voice was deep, smooth, and laced with mockery.
Luna scrambled backward, her limbs shaking, but more movement surrounded her—shadows emerging from the trees, stalking closer. Silent and patient.
One. Two. Three. Four.
More wolves, shifting into humanoid forms as they stepped into the moonlight. Their golden eyes gleamed with cruel hunger, their smirks filled with anticipation.
Five.
"Did you really think you could escape?" one of them sneered.
"Look at her shake," another chuckled. "Pathetic little lamb."
A tremor ran down Luna's spine as she curled in on herself, her trembling hands shielding her tear-streaked face. She could feel their eyes drinking in her fear, savoring it, tasting it.
A rough hand suddenly tangled in her hair, yanking her head up. A choked cry of pain slipped from her lips.
"You were sold to us," the auburn-haired man sneered, crouching before her. His grip tightened, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Did you really think you had a choice?"
He leaned in, his breath ghosting over her skin. "You belong to us now."
Luna's stomach twisted, nausea bubbling up as she fought back another sob. More laughter. More voices, taunting, jeering. Then hands—too many hands—gripping her arms, her shoulders, her waist. Not wolves anymore. Men. Their golden eyes still burning with that same hunger.
She thrashed wildly. Kicked. Clawed. Screamed.
"PLEASE!" she sobbed. "Let me go—please! I'll do anything!"
No answer.
The ropes came next. Rough. Unforgiving. Biting into her wrists and ankles, binding her like a captured animal.
"She's still fighting," one of them mused. "Resilient little thing."
"Women always are," another said. "At first."
Luna's breath came in short, hiccupping gasps. Her vision blurred with tears, her body trembling from exhaustion. But no one helped her. No one ever did.
Then, suddenly, everything changed.
A thick, eerie silence fell over the group. The laughter stopped. The taunts faded.
They were waiting.
Luna went still.
Her chest still heaved. Tears still clung to her lashes. Her lips trembled as if she would beg again. But she didn't.
The words died in her throat.
The moment stretched, tension thick between them. Then—
"See?"
"The little lamb finally gave up," one of them murmured, pleased.
"That was quick."
She stared at the dirt beneath her, her fingers curling into weak fists.
'Tch.'
The men chuckled, nudging each other.
'I knew it wouldn't work, but I had to try.'
Luna fought back the urge to curse at the men who had bought her.
'That... that damn man...'
Her uncle—her good-for-nothing uncle—had sold her.
Not just to anyone, but to a wolf pack.
Luna had always known about werewolves. She had read about them, overheard her uncle Boric and her aunt Miriella whispering in fearful tones about the monsters that lurked in the woods, the packs that took young girls away, never to be seen again.
And to think, her odd hair and eye color meant she was also a werewolf. She now understood why her family treated her with so much contempt.
However...
She never understood why they feared them so much.
Until now.
'A broodmare. Hm?' She thought, recalling what the old man who she was sold to had called her.
'I would rather die.'
She was definitely going to escape. She didn't know how yet, but she would figure it out. There was no way she was becoming a breeding tool.
After all, she was not just any lamb.