The destruction of the bedframe was not the end; it was merely the new foundation for Rex's continued conquest. Even as the wooden planks splintered and the mattress lay torn beneath them, Rex's hunger only intensified.
He was a predator who had tasted blood and now demanded the entire kill.
Helena lay in the wreckage, her body trembling with such profound exhaustion that her nervous system seemed to be short-circuiting.
Her legs, once strong and regal, felt like useless appendages of lead—dead, numb, and incapable of supporting her own weight. When she tried to shift, her thighs simply refused to obey.
"Nnngh—ahhh—I can't—!!! Rex—my legs—they won't move!!!"
"I'm—I'm broken—!!!" she whimpered, her voice cracking with a mixture of terror and desperate need.
Rex's response was not comfort, but further domination.
"Oh, you're broken alright—!!!" he growled, his eyes burning with a dark, unquenchable fire. "But I'm not done molding you yet—!!!"
