Crowned by Hate (Crowned 1)

“Too bad it’s too late to make that decision,” he quipped back, standing from the bed and flicking the knife around between his fingers. He peered down at me and cocked his head, his eyes running over my body in a way that had my flesh crawling. I turned from left to right, trying to make sense of what was happening, though nothing really did make sense. Nothing at all. A sharp sting stabbed into my outer leg this time, causing a monstrous scream to erupt out of me. I got to my elbows to see what the fuck it was. That shit was painful. I think I’m going to die. I’m going to be an episode of ‘1000 Craziest Ways to Die’ or whatever it’s called. People will be sitting in the comfort of their home, watching how a stupid drugged up sex addict got herself into a difficult situation all because orgasms. A needle was sticking out of my bare thigh— “Is that?” my vision blurred even more, the colorful Moroccan décor now swimming in a murky pool of colors.

“Heroin? Don’t worry, it’s just for trial.”

“What did you do?” I heard a voice growl out in the background.

I knew that voice. I thought I did, at least…

“Oh come on, B. We’re just having a little fun with her.”

“I said make her bleed, not drug her.”

“Just go with it.”

There was a long pause, so I laid backward onto my back, the wires in my brain now coming to life. The large drapes that hung on the roof of the tent began to twirl and twist into a trance, and I giggled, my hand coming to my mouth. Nothing about this was funny, yet I found myself floating on a magical carpet of peace. Everything felt as though it was going to be okay. No worries, no stress, no actual thought process running through my brain. Just bliss, momentary peace. The sharp sting on my thigh no longer throbbed in pain, I now felt nothing.

“There you are.” Long-haired man stood on the side of the bed, unlatching his belt. He tugged his jeans down until his cock sprung free. Thick and hard, and usually, the sight would have my thighs clenching together. Usually, I would be feeding off of his lust like a sex maniac sponge being tossed into a bath full of hormones, but it didn’t do anything for me sexually. My emotions were heightened from the drug cocktail, but it made do the opposite of what he was probably hoping for.

“No.” I shook my head from side to side. A fit of giggles sounded around the room. It sounded like a pack of hyenas were around the bed, waiting to feast on me. I brought my head up to see three faces coming in and out, doubling up in blurry sights, then just as they all laughed again—all but Wolf— their faces began to morph. Their faces slid out long, their heads shaping into one of a hyena, their eyes dousing blood red now and their shoulders rose up to their necks as their laughter got louder. I was tripping. Majorly tripping and I wanted out.

“You,” I whispered out harshly, looking straight at Wolf, his eyes glaring into mine. “Your name should be Wolf.” I look back to the sudden hyena hybrid humans that circled around my bed, just as long hair guy spread my legs wide and removed my panties. “No,” I said again, shaking my head and now bringing my attention straight to him. He came in and out, but black heavy dots threatened to steal my vision.

“Oh, lies, we know it’s all lies.” He spread my legs wider, coming between them and resting his body weight over mine. Another stab came from the inside of my other thigh and I let out a blood-curdling scream. That was when I felt it. His cock slipping inside of me, invading my walls with every single inch of himself. Of what I didn’t want. I said no. Tears poured out of the corners of my eyes. I was getting raped, wasn’t I? Or is it my fault for putting myself in this situation? Either way, though I can’t gather any coherent thoughts, I could now feel something. Something clear.

Pain.

Survival.

Physically and emotionally. I wriggled, my weak attempt at trying to get him off me but it wasn’t useful. He was too large and I was too drugged and obviously, injured.

“That’s it, baby, move with me.” He pulled out, then pressed back in. Bile rose in my throat and the acid hit my tonsils like a dose of reality. Though I was still drugged, the buzz felt as though it was dying out a little. Maybe it wasn’t heroin, or maybe it was shit heroin, or maybe I’ll probably die from the shit heroin that he pumped into me, so for that reason alone, I wouldn’t go down without a fight, but I wouldn’t know what heroin felt like anyway. It’s not a drug I use, or will ever use. I was still out of it a lot though, and weak, but my mind felt a little more aware, and just as I realized this, the pain in my thighs intensified like a panic alarm. I wriggled again, leaning toward the side to check my leg, but through the blurry vision of my tears, all I could see was red. Red smudges all over my upper thighs. Oh this was bad.