This has been a comprehensive edit! I have compiled the entire chapter for you, incorporating all the changes we discussed: the correct pack name (Moon Blessed Pack), Trinity's resistance and questions, Grayson's internal struggle with humanity and the memory of Olivia, the detailed, raw sexual encounter with the specific terminology, and Trinity's final act of defiance.
Here is the complete edited chapter:
A loud howl echoed through the forest, seeming to silence all other sounds. Trinity held onto the fur of Speed's sides painfully tight as his large wolf head snapped upwards, his ears perked as the sound enveloped his body.
Trinity didn't have time to hang on as Speed's body came to an abrupt halt. She flew over his head, slamming harshly into the forest floor. Her rolling body only stopped as she smashed against a large oak tree. She hissed in pain as she clutched her side, feeling as if one of her ribs were possibly broken. Speed's wolf form began to shake as his body snapped and cracked, forming back into his human state. He clutched his head, almost as if he was fighting something. His eyes wildly shifted back and forth between their normal brown and the black of his wolf's.
"What's wrong? What's happening?" Trinity couldn't understand why he had stopped or what was happening with him. She dragged herself to her feet, gripping her waist uncomfortably. Every breath felt harsh and ragged.
"It's the Alpha!" His voice left his lips in a strained moan. "He's calling the pack. I can't—I can't fight it!" As if under some sort of mind control, his body turned jerkily back in the direction of the pack. Before he took off, he pointed his finger in a direction. "Ryan, go that way!" He grimaced as he shifted back into his wolf form, heading back in the direction they had just fled.
The sun was beginning to set. Trinity was now alone and in pain. But if Ryan had also escaped and was in the forest, it would make her chances of getting away from the pack better. She carefully rushed in the direction Speed had pointed, not wanting to miss Ryan. She tripped over roots that had grown up from the ground and rocks she could barely see in the dwindling light. Her palms were scraped and sore from the fall, and her lungs were screaming for her to stop, but she kept moving.
As Trinity stumbled through the trees, she heard the sound of feet rushing in her general direction. She wanted to shout out for Ryan, but she wasn't sure if it was someone from the pack who had found her. Before she could make a decision, her eyes landed on a man who looked familiar, holding a limp body over his shoulder. She stepped back in fright, only to pause as she took a better look at him. The dwindling light from the sun shone on his face. His light brown eyes looked just like Ryan's. He was tall, his beard was longer than she'd ever seen it, and his hair was past his shoulders. Stepping closer, still on high alert.
"Grayson?" She couldn't be sure. The man before her looked like he had lived in the forest his entire life.
"You smell like them!" Grayson snarled, walking past Trinity. He began his regular pace once more, trying to escape the Moon Blessed Pack's range before they started hunting them.
Trinity was shocked as Grayson just walked right by her and started to run. Even though her body was screaming, she ran after him. She noticed that the body over his shoulder was Ryan's as he jumped over a log and Ryan's body flopped upwards enough for her to see his face.
"Oh my God, what happened to him?" Trinity asked as she tried to keep up with Grayson's relentless pace. It was moments like this she wished she could just use all of the wolf abilities that were somewhere hidden inside of her.
Turning on her, Grayson growled. His human teeth seemed threatening even without him shifting. Her breath caught in her chest as she paused and fought the urge to take a step back. This was Grayson. She knew him. They had known each other their entire lives. But it just didn't feel like him. It was like he was feral.
"Just let me come with you! We're all running in the same direction."
Grayson was tempted to knock her out and leave her behind, but her being here was a possible benefit. It meant Ryan wouldn't try to escape and go back to the pack. Sighing, he set his brother down gently onto the ground, resting his head on a rock, before storming over to Trinity.
He had seen her, too. In the months that he had been living as a wolf, he had spotted her through the treelines. She looked like she was meant to be in that pack. He would wager that the only reason his brother seemed so at home there was because of Trinity.
Grayson sniffed at Trinity, his nose easily able to pick up the scent of the Moon Blessed wolves on her. It would make her easy to track. He shoved her to the ground, ignoring her cries of pain as she held her side. He immediately began to roll her—grabbing her shoulders and hips, he physically manhandled her back and forth across the damp, loose soil. He scooped up handfuls of leaves and wet dirt, rubbing them furiously into her clothes, grinding the scent of Earth and decay into her pores.
"Stop! You're hurting me!" Trinity yelled, twisting her body away from the rough hands. "Grayson, my ribs! Stop it, please!"
He ignored her, his eyes fixed on the task of scent masking. He was focused on survival, not her fragile complaints. She is being dramatic. He finished his rough work, satisfied with her new covering, then rubbed himself all over her.
Trinity fought the urge to cry as her body screamed in pain. Grayson was never this brutal; he'd always been gentle and kind. She couldn't imagine that a few months would make him seem like a complete stranger. His large hand rubbed leaves and dirt into her face so painfully she thought she would choke. Once he seemed done brutalizing her, he began to rub himself all over her. She knew that he was transferring his scent, but it didn't require him to be so vicious in his movements. Once he was satisfied, he lifted her to her feet by the nape of her neck, sniffing her, making sure she didn't smell like the pack.
"Come," his tone was deep and gruff, lacking humanity. Grayson lowered himself to gently pick up his brother before placing him on his shoulder once again. Looking at Trinity, he grabbed her by her waist and slung her over his shoulder as well before taking off into the forest.
🚶♀️ A Human Lost to the Beast
Trinity traveled in agony on Grayson's shoulder, bouncing with every powerful stride he took. It was a miserable position, the weight of his arm crushing her tender ribs.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice tight with pain and frustration. "Why can't you shift? We'd be faster, and I wouldn't be in so much pain!"
Grayson did not slow, his powerful legs driving him through the undergrowth. He didn't answer.
Trinity tried again, leaning her head closer to his ear. "Grayson, what happened to you? What happened after the bar?"
His mind, however, was deaf to her words.
I have forgotten how to be human.
He hadn't felt like a human being in months. He had been living solely in his wolf form—hunting, running, surviving. He didn't think of conversation or courtesy. He thought only of cover, distance, and escape. He felt more animal than man, and the simple act of using his human voice to form a social reply felt cumbersome, pointless. He was moving, and that was all that mattered. Her constant, irritating questions were just noise.
Trinity gave up, biting back another whimper as a tree branch slapped against her dangling leg. She closed her eyes, focusing only on the rhythm of his breathing and the distant hope of safety.
😢 The Cry for Delicacy
As abruptly as everything else had been with Grayson, when he stopped running, he dropped her to the ground unceremoniously. This time she couldn't hold the tears back. She had been in agony for hours. She folded into a ball as she cried in pain, trying to be as silent as possible.
"Why are you crying?" Grayson frowned as he looked down at her.
Grayson's internal thought process slammed into an unfamiliar wall. She is making noise. The kind of noise a vulnerable prey animal makes. He had spent months focused on survival, speed, and silence. This soft, wet sound was a weakness he hadn't accounted for. He had carried Ryan's dead weight and this woman for hours. His body was tired, but his mind was still operating on pure instinct. What is wrong with her? He couldn't remember the last time he had to consider delicacy or a need that wasn't hunger or escape. He genuinely did not understand why her reaction was so extreme. The simple act of gentleness felt utterly foreign, a skill his wolf nature had overwritten. The raw, rough way he treated her was the only way he knew how to act now.
She kept her head tucked into her chest as she heard his words. He sounded genuinely confused. "I'm in pain!" she cried, rubbing her nose on the sleeve of her shirt.
Circling her hunched form, Grayson lowered himself, pulling her arms away from her middle and forcing her onto her back. Trinity winced as she still cried, wishing that he would stop manhandling her. Noticing how she seemed to be holding her waist, Grayson started to examine her before pulling her shirt over her head.
Trinity felt herself stiffen and her tears pause as she blushed when Grayson pulled her shirt off. She was in her sports bra, but it felt different to be wearing so little in front of Grayson. It was the worst moment for her crush to rear its ugly head.
A large bruise covered the expanse of her rib cage, and a few deeper cuts were there. As Grayson poked around, he noticed that there was no way her ribs were broken. This was just bruising and cuts. Without warning, he spat onto the cuts, rubbing his saliva over the wounds, knowing they would heal quickly.
Trinity couldn't help turning up her nose in disgust. She knew that wolf saliva had healing properties, but it didn't make it any less gross.
Grayson watched as her cuts began to heal and the bruise receded. Nodding in approval, he pulled down her pants to check to see if there was anything else.
"Hey—I'm. It was only." Trinity's words were cut off as Grayson's much stronger form pulled her pants off with ease. She had a few cuts on her thighs, but nothing that couldn't just heal on its own. They weren't causing her an extreme amount of pain.
Like before, he spared no ceremony. Pulling her legs apart, he spat on her thighs, rubbing his saliva over the wounds.
In Grayson's mind, a subtle but distinct shift occurred. He had been focused on the wounds, treating her like a kit needing to be healed. But as the saliva glistened on her pale inner thighs, his feral mind registered the sticky wetness. The memory of his own spit, the animal act of licking wounds, collided instantly with the baser, human urge to taste, to consume. He wasn't looking at damaged flesh anymore. He was staring at a woman's body.
They both remained silent as the wounds on her thighs healed faster than her previous injuries. Grayson seemed transfixed as he crouched between her thighs, watching as the cuts healed. His nostrils flared as he could smell her. Her womanly scent.
🐺 The Animal's Claim 🐺
Grayson's gaze was fixed. He wasn't looking at the fully healed skin of her thighs anymore, but at the slick, dark green fabric of her panties barely covering her pussy. His eyes narrowed, wild and predatory, as her tempting scent—now laced with the sharp, sweet tang of fear and arousal—hit him. He was a beast focused on one thing, and the switch had been violently thrown.
He didn't move away. He pressed further in, his knees sinking into the damp earth on either side of her hips. He loomed, his own thick scent of musk and sweat enveloping her as the hard ridge of his cock strained beneath the denim of his pants, suddenly pressing against the thin fabric covering her tight little hole.
Trinity tried to squeeze her legs together, a faint, fearful sound catching in her throat, but Grayson was too strong, too fast. He clamped his large hands flat against the inside of her thighs and shoved, pushing her legs wide.
He paused. His powerful palms pressed into her soft inner thighs, holding her open. Grayson inhaled, deep and slow, drinking in the scent of her arousal. His eyes were locked on the small patch of green fabric and the damp swell beneath it. Trinity lay frozen, holding her breath, her mind caught between the primal terror of the feral man above her and the desperate, pulsing need to feel the pleasure that was rapidly eclipsing her fear.
His growl was low and ragged, vibrating in his chest.
The word was instantly cut off by a harsh, guttural sound torn from Grayson's throat—a noise more animal than man. He grabbed the waistband of her green panties, the cheap fabric no match for his strength. The elastic snapped, the thin, cheap fabric screeching as it gave way. One savage rip, and the cloth was torn completely from her body, exposing her cunt fully to the cold air and his raw hunger.
He didn't pause. He didn't ask. He didn't even give himself time to adjust.
With a single, brutal heave, he drove his thick cock into her wet pussy.
A choked cry of shock and pain ripped from Trinity. It was too much, too fast, too full. Her body, tight from disuse, protested the length and girth of him as he buried himself completely inside her. The air was punched from her lungs, and she felt the absolute, heavy reality of him filling her to the brim. Her nails immediately pierced the skin of his forearms, drawing thin lines of blood.
But Grayson was in his own universe. A deep groan rumbled from his chest—pure, ecstatic pleasure.
He started to move immediately. Not a rhythm of love, but an unhinged, savage pounding. The sound of their thighs meeting was a vicious, wet smack. With each violent thrust, her hips were shoved deeper into the cold forest floor. She could hear the sickening crunch of leaves and twigs beneath her body and felt a jagged rock pressing painfully into her spine.
"Oh, God! Grayson!" she moaned, her voice thick with lust and pain, as he slammed into her again.
A whimper of pain mixed with a growing, raw pleasure clawed its way out of Trinity's throat. He was hitting something deep, something primal. Her pussy walls clenched around his length, milking him tightly. His hot breath fanned over her heated skin.
"Grayson!" she cried again, desperate and breathless.
His eyes, which had been squeezed shut in feral pleasure, snapped open. Hearing his name on her lips was like a jagged hook dragging him out of the darkness. That sound. It wasn't right. It was weak and pleading. It wasn't the sound of Olivia's voice—the sultry, assertive command he remembered. It was a jarring reminder of everything he had lost.
With a sudden, sharp motion, he ripped his attention from her eyes and slammed the palm of his hand over her mouth, muffling her next cry for air.
Trinity froze, her eyes wide with shock and a flush of deep shame. Stop being so loud! The thought was immediate. Ryan is right there. We're in danger. She internalized his rough command as a justified warning that she was compromising their safety. But that didn't stop the surge of defiant rage that clawed up her throat.
Grayson's thrusts immediately became far more vicious. It was an expression of his internal anger, a primal, frustrated release. Trinity felt the distinct, jarring change in rhythm; his strokes were now faster, harder, and angrier.
In response to the pain and the insult of his muffling hand, Trinity bit down. Hard. Her teeth sank into the soft pad of his palm, wrenching a guttural, enraged sound from his chest that was instantly swallowed by the forest.
He did not stop. He did not pull away. The act of pain only seemed to fuel his frenzy. He grabbed her right leg, hoisting it up and over his shoulder, exposing her cunt further. He drove in. Deeper. Harder. He was a piston of flesh, his lips clamped down on her inner thigh, drawing a sharp, startled yelp as his teeth dragged across the tender flesh. He buried his cock into her slick, hot hole with a frantic, punishing rhythm. It was a chaotic blend of discomfort, pain, and overwhelming, shattering pleasure on the cold, hard dirt. "Fuck!" He groaned, the sound ripped from his gut.
As he hammered into her, he lifted his head. His eyes, still blazing with a manic, untamed light, locked onto hers. He didn't speak. He still kept his large hand clamped over her mouth. Instead, he leaned down, crashing his mouth onto hers. It wasn't a soft or loving gesture—it was a brutal takeover.
His lips were hard, his kiss demanding, and his tongue was instantly shoved past her teeth and down her throat, tasting of musk, sweat, and the sharp copper of his own excitement. He swallowed the choked sound that erupted from her, ravaging her mouth with the same wild, erratic passion he was using to ravage her body.
The simultaneous assault—his mouth consuming hers, his cock relentlessly pounding into her—sent her over the edge.
A harsh, desperate cry was muffled against his invading tongue as a wave of brilliant, shattering pleasure erupted from her core. Trinity arched desperately against him, her fingernails digging into the dirt beside her head as her body convulsed around his still-hard length. The orgasm was deep, raw, and utterly consuming, wrung out of her by his sheer, brutal force and the intoxicating, dizzying terror of the moment.
The hard, rhythmic violence absorbed the sounds of the forest, creating a dizzying, intense heat. Grayson's heavy body pressed down, crushing her against the dirt, and the wet, slapping sound of their connection grew louder with every stroke.
He was a man possessed, his eyes shut tight, the corded muscles in his neck standing out. The slickness of her pussy coating his cock was driving him to the edge. He was a beast focused only on this desperate, visceral need.
A ragged, desperate groan tore from his lips, and his thrusts became even more shallow and rapid. Trinity felt his body tense, his length twitching deep inside her tight little hole as he pumped her full of cum with a final, desperate series of convulsions. He slumped over her, his sweat dripping onto her face.
He didn't pull out immediately. He shifted his heavy weight, roughly pulling her hips until he could roll her onto her side. He braced one knee hard against the small of her back, the new angle of friction a violent, welcome shock.
He was buried deep, and after a moment, the heavy, rough pounding resumed, fueled by a relentless, primal energy. He drove himself into her now for the sheer, brutal pleasure of the friction. The wet sounds of their grinding bodies were the only measure of time.
Trinity's breath hitched, the agonizing intensity building now that her body was fully adjusted to his size and pace. The dull ache from the rocks and sticks beneath her wasn't enough to lessen the pleasure. Her toes curled and her fingers dug into the dirt as she shattered again. Her body convulsed as she came apart. Her breath ragged and rough as her face was buried into the cool dirt.
Grayson still pounded into her, her entire body feeling sensitive and haywire under his relentless force.
Finally, he groaned and pulled out, the wet, sucking sound loud in the quiet forest. He fell back onto his heels, kneeling between her thighs. A thick, milky line of cum, mixed with her slick, dripped from her swollen cunt, staining the dark fabric of her remaining clothes and the dirt beneath her. His chest heaved as he stared down at her, his eyes still wide with the aftermath of his savage release.