Min wasn't an innocent maiden—her mother had warned her about the consequences of lying with a man, how some women sought refuge in the Woods to bear their children in secrecy. Erden had done just that. But if sex brought such immense pleasure, why shouldn't Min indulge in it? Besides, many women had raised children alone before. Once Sergen was done with her, he might release her, and she could return to her mother's cottage. It was the way of witches to live solitary lives, nurturing their children beneath the sheltering branches of the Witch Wood. Surely, Min would follow suit.
"Good girl," she murmured, planting tender kisses on his skin, her hands gliding up and down his heaving sides. "You're a good...good girl..."
Sergen gently licked her face once more, an unexpected display of tenderness. It wasn't what she anticipated from him, but she certainly wasn't going to reject it. Sweet aftershocks of pleasure continued to ripple through her body, blossoming in her belly, her breasts, and her sensitive nipples. Slipping her hands between their bodies, she cradled her rounded stomach, gazing up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "Was I good...this time?"
The beast-man licked her face, tracing his tongue across her mouth, eliciting a smile from her. They remained intertwined, their bodies connected in swollen union. Min caressed her legs against his sides, her ankles gliding through his thick fur.
"Good," she uttered, her body twitching and spasming, muscles contracting, her arms tightening. Amidst it all, her belly, the center of her being, felt pleasantly full and warm.
"Can you stay here with me, just for a little while?" Min's voice was soft, drowsy. "I simply want to rest. I'm a good girl...a good girl..." Exhaustion engulfed her, pushing her beyond her limits, and the rhythmic patter of raindrops lulled her into tranquility. Sometimes she pushed herself too far, exhausting her energy with no means of recovery, often falling asleep in her mother's embrace. This felt akin to those moments, but even better. Min reclined her head and drifted into slumber before her senses touched the ground.
The following morning arrived, ushering in a clear and sweltering day, suffused with humidity so thick that Min felt as if she could swim through it without ever touching the ground. As she roused from slumber, she found herself alone, pleasantly sore and bruised once again. Her body was a chaotic amalgamation of frazzled nerves, lingering scents, and heightened sensations. Crawling out of her small tent, she squinted against the bright sun. However, as she attempted to put weight on both arms, she stumbled and cried out, collapsing onto the dirt.
"What's wrong?" Sergen's concerned voice came from nearby.
"I...I'm not sure," she replied, wincing. Casting a glance, she noticed that her previously healed shoulder had swelled to one and a half times its normal size. Any attempt to move her arm or flex her fingers sent waves of unpleasant heat coursing up her neck. "My arm...my shoulder hurts again."
"What? Let me see." He approached and firmly grasped her swollen forearm.
The mere touch of his hand seared her like touching a sun-baked rock. Min screamed and crouched down in the dirt. "No! It hurts!" Clutching her injured arm with her good hand, she whimpered, longing for the bliss and pleasure of the previous night. Why did it have to end, only for pain to take its place? Pain and pleasure seemed to be inseparable companions, and perhaps this was the price she had to pay for the previous night's indulgence.
"Get up," his voice commanded, firm yet lacking the impatience from before. "We can't treat it here. My people can help, but we must reach them first."
Min bit her lip, nodding. While part of her yearned to curl up on the ground and wait for the pain to subside, she summoned her strength, rose to her feet, and took a sharp breath while cradling her injured limb against her chest. "Let's go. Please."
There was something in his expression that suggested she had made the right choice. It held significance for Min, perhaps more than it should have.
What followed was one of the most agonizing days in Min's life. Progressing while supporting her injured arm proved arduous, but she suppressed her complaints and kept Sergen in her sights, trailing behind him. Every step was a struggle, and with each jostle and shake of her arm, a fiery surge coursed through her veins, intensifying her perspiration and exacerbating her trembling, which only served to exacerbate the pain.
It was the scorching midday sun when Min reached the point of surrender. Exhausted, she skidded to a halt at the bottom of a dried-up riverbed, collapsing to her knees. Sweat mingled with tears, clouding her eyes, while an inferno of agony raged through her entire side. The pain was so unbearable that she questioned if severing her arm would have been the preferable choice.
"No, we can't stop!" Sergen's voice echoed as he circled back towards her. "We're almost there." He reached down, gripping her uninjured arm, and attempted to lift Min to her feet.
She let out a piercing scream, then turned her head and vomited, expelling bile and water onto the stony ground. Slumped in his grasp, Min resembled a lifeless doll, devoid of strength. "Can't...can't go on," she whimpered, her voice strained. "It hurts too much!"
Min was certain that Sergen would abandon her—such a conclusion would mark a dismal, unwelcome conclusion to her story. However, contrary to her expectations, the wolf-man bent down and, with the utmost tenderness, placed her across his broad shoulders. As he straightened, the movement jostled her injured arm.
Min let out a shrill shriek.
Then he began to run, and she was trembling too violently to make any further cries. The pain persisted, unyielding, but fortunately, before her arm could ignite into physical flames, she succumbed to unconsciousness.
"Mama! S-sorry, Mama..." her faint words escaped before she slipped into darkness.