Game of Thrones: Imagines and one shots. Book four

Moon - Part 2 - Ramsay x Reader

He could hardly breath, he was running that fast; his thighs, calves were burning, screaming at him to stop, but he couldn't........he couldn't. A loud, eerie howl splitting the cool night air and sending startled birds from their roosts, up into the night sky. The sound prompting Ramsay to push himself even harder; branches and twigs catching on his skin and causing cuts, cuts that, though small, brought with them tiny trickles of blood that made their way down his pale skin; but they were the least of his worries. The beast that was chasing him through the woods; that he was sure was nipping at his heels, now that.......that was the real concern.

The last thing that he could recall was the girl; the beautiful, ripe for the picking girl that he and his hounds had been hunting. He could remember how hard his cock was for her; what he had fantasized about doing to her. The memory of being able to taste her fear in the air, still fresh in his mind. But then.......then, the eyes.........bright yellow eyes that seemed to peer into his dark soul; and a hand, with long fingers and sharp nails that had wrapped itself tightly around his throat. Ramsay suddenly stumbling, falling into the soft forest floor, as the image of teeth, bright, sharp teeth, flashed before his eyes.

Finally, he was able to turn over, scurrying back as best he could as he heard another ominous howl; his back pushed up against the trunk of a gnarled tree, as he did all he could to make himself invisible. There was little that scared Ramsay Bolton; he was the one that usually caused fear in others. He was the monster. The Great Other, in human form. But at this moment, he was the one that was filled with horror; he trembling like a startled child that wanted nothing more than to run to its mother for comfort. Yet there would be no comfort; no mother to hold him tight and chase away the terror that was right behind him. The breath leaving his body as he saw it move into the clearing in front of him; the moon embracing the great black beast as it just stood there and stared right at him. A huge dire wolf, yet it stood on two legs. Its form more human than animal, despite the fur and every other outward sign that it was very much not human. Ramsay pushing his back further against the tree trunk; pulling his cloak around him. Finding for the first time in his life, that there was perhaps something in this world more wicked than he was. His eyes growing wide, as the creature reached out, its teeth bared. And then........then........laughter.............

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Ramsay sat bolt upright frantically gasping for air; he quickly looking around for the beast; but there was nothing.......he was alone in the woods, with the sun in the sky. Its warming rays creeping lazily through the broad, dark green canopy. The Bastard of the Dreadfort, struggling to his feet; his broken bow laying where he had been sleeping, and there not a sign of his men nor his hounds. With his first step, he almost fell; his legs ached, ached more than ever in his life. Ramsay leaning up against the nearest tree as he tried to shake the dream from his mind; as he tried to reorientate himself, to figure out what had actually happened. Yet the more he tried; the more things didn't make sense. The hunt should have ended how all other hunts ended; he should be in his bed in the Dreadfort, not in the forest. Where was the girl.......? Why was his bow broke......? Where were his hounds.......? Why had no one come to look for him........? Anger building inside him as he thought about these questions. He promising himself that someone was going to suffer for this, who, it didn't matter, just someone. Ramsay taking a deep breath and straightening himself before staggering forward; the sound of a stream calling to him. The young lord wanting to splash some water on his face; to wake himself properly from his awful vision, before making his way back to the Dreadfort, and demanding to know why he had been left all alone, all night in the woods.

Gasp.......he actually gasped when he saw his reflection in a small pool at the side of the river that had been created by years of flowing water. He had been bleeding; his face covered in numerous small, jagged cuts. His once crimson blood now having taken on a brown hue. His thoughts for a moment going back to his dream; to him running through the woods with the great beast right behind him. Its howl making his heart hammer against his ribs. The feel of its breath on his neck...........His neck........Ramsay quickly fumbling with the material around his neck, tearing away the scarf before peering back into the water. His eyes widening as he saw the marks; as he saw the scratch marks and........and puncture wounds. Four on one side, and one on the other. Ramsay having held the necks of enough people to know that someone........something had had their hand gripping at his throat. And that the puncture wound......the puncture wounds were nails.......long, sharp nails........the nails of the wolf........