As the brutal rhythm of Rex's thrusts reached a fever pitch, Ignivara's gaze drifted, her eyes unfocused and swimming with tears and lust. Through the haze of her sensory overload, she saw him.
Zane.
He was still there, slumped in the shadows, heavily bound in thick, enchanted chains that bit into his skin. He was deep in a magically induced slumber, his chest rising and falling in a slow, rhythmic cadence, completely oblivious to the primal desecration happening just a few feet away.
'Zane... oh gods, Zane... look at me... look at what he's doing to me...' she thought desperately, a sob catching in her throat.
She wanted to scream his name, to wake him so he could see her glory or perhaps to wake him so he could save her from this beautiful, terrifying madness. But every time she tried to call out, a massive, bone-jarring lunge from Rex would steal the breath from her lungs.
"HAA... ZAAA... NNNGH! AAAAAH!"
