Elira didn't scream anymore.
She shivered.
Face-down, ass-up, cunt still twitching from Kael's final brutal thrusts, her mind floated somewhere between too much and not done yet. The ink smeared across her stomach had faded in parts, blurred with sweat and juices. Her dignity lay somewhere between her thighs, soaking the stone.
Allen stood a few feet away, arms folded, untouched and unbothered. His gaze didn't flinch. He didn't move closer. Neither did Fina or Rinni.
Because he'd made a promise.
"They don't touch her," he'd said. "Not even a finger. That honor goes to Nyra."
And Nyra… oh, Nyra was ready.
She rose from her knees with a wobble in her hips, her thighs glossy with her own cum. Her nipples were puffy and raw, sporting fresh bite marks that throbbed with each movement. Her breath hitched with every step, her pussy still leaking from earlier use—but her eyes gleamed with vicious purpose.
She walked like a woman possessed.
Or more like… a bitch unleashed.
