Like a Lamb to the Slaughter
Chapter Two - The Price of Protection
>-;;;;€ᐷ parings: Barbarian!tf141 x civilized reader
>-;;;;€ᐷ synopsis: After a terrifying dream of being hunted through an endless forest, you wake to a reality that feels just as inescapable. Surrounded by unfamiliar territory and the looming presence of the tribe, the truth behind your sacrifice becomes clear. When Price offers you a choice, you quickly learn it isn’t a choice at all—only a different kind of loss.
>-;;;;€ᐷ contents: Themes of fear, captivity, and coercion. References to blood, hunting, and predator/prey dynamics. Emotional distress, forced marriage, and feelings of isolation.
Reader discretion is advised!
>-;;;;€ᐷ word count: 1.5k
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Cold air bites at your face as you push through the dense woods, branches snagging at your clothes like they’re trying to keep you there. Each step crunches too loudly beneath your feet, the sound swallowed by the endless stretch of trees around you.
The forest doesn’t feel real.
You don’t remember how you got here. With every step, that thought slips further from your grasp, like trying to hold water in your hands. Hours could have passed. Maybe days. Time feels wrong here, stretched thin and tangled.
Your body stills, breath catching in your throat. It’s unmistakable, the sound of something feeding. A predator that’s already caught its prey.
Every instinct in your body screams at you to turn around, to get as far away from that sound as possible but your feet don’t listen. Something pulls you forward, slow and quiet, like you’re being led.
Your steps grow lighter, more careful, as you move closer. The sound gets louder. Clearer. Your stomach twists, fear and curiosity knotting together until you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.
At first, it’s just a shape, broad, hunched, massive.
Then the details come into focus.
A back covered in scars. Not small ones, no, these are deep, jagged marks that carve across his skin, wrapping around his body like proof of every fight he’s ever survived. Old wounds. Brutal ones.
Your nose wrinkles as the scent hits you.
Thick. Metallic. Overwhelming.
It coats him. Smears across his skin, his hands, his mask.
The animal beneath him is barely recognizable, but the patches of white wool cling to red-stained ground, matted and ruined. A sheep…or something like it. Torn apart.
It clicks into place all at once, your blood running cold.
The quiet one. The one who never speaks but always watches. The one whose gaze feels like it cuts straight through you.
Your heart starts to race, pounding so hard it feels like it might give you away. You take a slow step back
and a branch snaps beneath your foot.
The tearing. The movement. Even the forest feels like it goes still.
His head snaps toward you with a speed that shouldn’t be possible, something inhuman in the way it happens. Too fast. Too precise.
And whatever you thought you knew about him doesn’t matter anymore.
There’s nothing human in his gaze.
His pupils are blown wide, swallowing what little color you can see. There’s no recognition. No hesitation.
A long, suffocating second passes. Maybe more. You can’t tell.
Your body forgets how to move. Your lungs forget how to breathe.
Then your heart slams against your ribs—
You don’t think. You don’t hesitate.
You turn your back on the predator—every lesson you’ve ever been taught screaming at you not to and you run.
Branches whip at your face as you tear through the forest, your heartbeat roaring in your ears.
You can hear him behind you.
He doesn’t stumble. Doesn’t slow. The forest doesn’t touch him the way it does you. Where you trip and falter, he tears through everything in his path like it was never there to begin with.
You can hear it, the heavy, controlled rhythm of him gaining on you. Feel it, like a shadow at your back.
Your lungs burn. Your legs scream.
Light spills through the trees like something holy, something safe, and you push yourself harder, ignoring the sharp sting of branches slicing your skin, the ache in your feet—
Something slams into you.
Claws dig into your back, pain ripping through you as the force drags you down. The ground disappears beneath you.
And everything goes black.
You jolt upright with a sharp gasp, lungs dragging in air like you’ve been drowning.
Your heart is still racing. Too fast. Too loud.
For a moment, you don’t know where you are.
The furs piled on top of you feel suffocating, heavy and wrong, and you shove them off in a panic. Your skin is damp with sweat despite the cold.
“It was a dream,” you whisper to yourself, your voice shaking. “Just a dream…”
You try to slow your breathing. Try to steady the frantic pounding in your chest.
Your feet hit the ground as you climb out of the bed, and pain shoots through them. You wince, staggering slightly.
The thought sends a fresh wave of unease through you, but it’s quickly replaced by something stronger. Something deeper.
The need hits suddenly, sharply, like a bruise pressed too hard. You want her voice, her hands, something familiar to anchor you—
The tent. The furs. The smell of smoke and something wild lingering in the air.
It all comes rushing back.
Your chest tightens as the memory settles in fully.
Your knees weaken, and you stumble back, hitting the edge of the bed. The betrayal stings fresh all over again, even if part of you understands why.
You squeeze your eyes shut, forcing the tears back. Thinking about it won’t change anything.
A faint glow filters through the tent, signaling early morning. It’s quiet outside, too quiet. No voices. No movement.
The thought makes your stomach twist.
Are they only active at night?
You hesitate before inching toward the entrance, fingers brushing the rough fabric as you peek outside.
The sunlight hits your eyes, and you squint, blinking against the brightness. Dew clings to the grass, sparkling faintly.
Tents are scattered around, silent and still, each one holding something you don’t want to think about.
You shake your head, trying to push the thought away, and step outside. The grass is cold and wet beneath your feet, grounding in a way the tent wasn’t.
And then your gaze drifts to the forest.
It stands there, quiet and looming. Not as terrifying as in your dream but not harmless, either.
Something about it still feels wrong.
And then the thought creeps in.
Your body shifts before your mind fully catches up. One step. Then another.
If you go now…if you’re fast enough…
Maybe you could make it home by nightfall.
Maybe they wouldn’t catch you.
“If you run,” a deep voice cuts through the silence, calm and certain, “I can—and will—catch you.”
Your entire body locks up.
The Bear stands behind you.
Without the layers of furs and armor, he somehow looks even more imposing. Solid. Unmovable. His presence alone presses down on you, heavy and controlled.
There’s nothing wild about him.
He already knows he’s in control.
Silence stretches between you, thick and suffocating.
“But you weren’t thinking that,” he adds, tilting his head slightly, his gaze sharp. “Were you?”
You shake your head quickly.
He studies you for a moment…then nods once.
The word isn’t kind. It’s final.
“I’ve been told,” he continues after a beat, his tone measured, “that you didn’t agree to our arrangement.”
You swallow, forcing your voice to work. “…No. I—I didn’t.”
His jaw shifts slightly, tongue pressing against his cheek in irritation. Not explosive anger controlled annoyance.
He glances toward the forest, then back at you.
“If you don’t want to be here anymore,” he says evenly, “you can leave.”
Hope sparks so suddenly it almost hurts.
“But,” he cuts in, his voice sharpening just enough to stop you cold.
Each step feels deliberate, like he’s making sure you understand every word that follows.
“Your people will no longer have our protection.” Another step. “And we will be free to hunt them—if we please.”
Crushed beneath the weight of what he’s saying.
This is why they sent you.
Not for power. Not for gain.
Your throat tightens as the realization settles in. The betrayal doesn’t disappear but it changes. Twists into something heavier.
Something you can’t ignore.
“Will you leave,” he asks, watching you closely, “now that you know?”
Then slowly shake your head.
His gaze lingers, expectant.
“No… I’ll stay. And marry you.”
“You will marry us,” he corrects, calm but firm.
He nods once, completely unfazed.
“You’ll have seven days,” he continues, already turning slightly as if the conversation is nearing its end, “to learn our rituals. To prepare.”
He glances over his shoulder.
“I’ll send four women to you. They’ll teach you what you need to know.”
“I expect a lot from you.”
And just like that, he walks away.
Like your decision was never really a question.
You stand there for a moment, the weight of everything pressing down on you all at once.
Then you turn and stumble back into the tent.
The air feels heavier now.
A strange mix of emotions twists in your chest- fear, dread…something almost like relief buried beneath it.
Your parents didn’t give you away for nothing.
They were trying to save everyone else.
That has to mean something.
You sink onto the edge of the bed, staring blankly ahead.
Their rituals. Their traditions.
And you have to survive long enough to make it to the wedding.
hiii i’m back 🥹 so sorry for being so long and i promise not to be gone for that long again !! ALSO I changed up some ppl Gaz is now the snow leopard and soap is the hyena!
hope you enjoy!!! | borders by @saradika-graphics !!
