Page 28 of Meat

When she thought of the other ways these monsters had used her in the night, that feeling intensified.

Alyx felt so insulted, so used, so humiliated.

She had thought these ukkur were her saviors, but it turned out they were no better than those evil nith who had brought her to this planet in the first place. Even worse, perhaps.

She had to get away, had to escape before these beasts woke up and followed through on their plans.

Alyx started to crawl away silently, moving on all fours like a sneaking cat. Her bare feet and hands made hardly any sound on the forest floor.

She only made it a few feet, however, before something jerked her back, choking her throat.

The collar.

In her confusion and panic, Alyx had forgotten about the collar around her neck—the one that had been put there by the nith and which was now leashed to a tree by Ravnar’s leather cord.

Her fingers went to her neck, struggling to unfasten the knot from the metal loop there. It was no use. The knot was elaborate and tight, and Alyx couldn’t see what she was doing.

Change of strategy.

She went to the tree trunk where the leash was looped and tied. But one glance, and her heart sank into her gut.

The knots that Ravnar had used were insanely intricate and convoluted. Alyx’s fingers searched and searched, but she couldn’t even find the end of the cord. It had somehow been tied in such a way that the end was tucked inside.

With frantic fingernails, she picked at the knot, desperately trying to pry the strands apart, but it was as hard as solid wood.

Fuck.

Alyx gave up and sat down with her back against the tree, trying to gather her thoughts. She could barely hear herself think over the fearful rush of her pulse beating in her ears. Her heart drummed a rapid tattoo against her ribs. She was going to die if she didn’t think of something soon.

Her eyes darted about the campsite, to the fire, the crates and sacks, the sleeping giants.

And finally her vision landed on a loincloth lying in a bundle on the ground nearby.

It was Ravnar’s, and his knife was still sheathed at the hip.

Struggling to keep her breath under control, Alyx crept to the fallen loincloth. She could smell Ravnar’s scent on it, the musk of his manhood. Even now, under these dire circumstances, that masculine smell sent unbidden tingles racing through her belly and between her newly plump thighs.

What was wrong with her? What was wrong with her?

She reached for the knife handle.

A sudden snort startled her so badly she nearly screamed.

It was Ravnar. When Alyx flicked her glance in his direction, she found that his eyes were still closed. His frighteningly huge hand raised. Blunt, dirty fingers rubbed his nose. He muttered sleepily. His snoring resumed.

Alyx let go a quiet sigh of relief.

Slowly, carefully, she slipped the knife free from its sheath—hard stone from supple leather. Something about that excited Alyx in ways it shouldn’t. She shook her head to clear it.

Now it was even more important to act fast. If these brutish ukkur caught her with a knife in her hands, there was no telling what kind of punishment they would mete out.

It was now or never. She wouldn’t get another chance at this.

Alyx pulled the cord of her leash tight with her free hand and placed the flint blade against it, close to her throat so as not to leave much excess dangling down. She moved the knife in a sawing motion.

A leather strand popped. Another. A third.

She had cut through the braid. She was free.