The Beast

The only sounds in the room were the slow drip of her blood onto the floor and her racing heart. The tangy smell of her fear became consuming.

"Easy. I have no desire to hand you over to your family."

"Why?" She rasped.

His answering smile was breathtaking. "Because I want you for myself."

Her soft snort reverberated off the fractured windows.

The sword slid back into its sheath with an easy sigh as the warmth of his chest disappeared. If he wanted to kill her, the sword was unlikely to stop him. His wolf was a shadow to his human form; its presence seemed to lurk in the corners behind him. Watching and waiting. The Beast, indeed. Her skin crawled, and she shivered, suddenly aware of the chill.

"My brother will kill me."

"I know," the desk groaned under his weight. "Which is why I want you to come back with me."

Outrunning her family was madness. But she wasn't sure she had any other choice. If she stayed here, the news of King Evander's presence would draw her father and brother here. If she ran, where would she go? There were no other packs that would be safe for her. Going rogue would be the last resort and would make her survival unlikely. 

King Evander was a problem. She wasn't sure what he had done to earn himself the nickname "The Beast", but the warning was clear.

He was her mate, but she still didn't trust him.

"Explain your nickname to me."

He dropped a paperweight with a soft clunk, his throat bobbing. And then that arrogant mask slid back over his features.

"Let me help you with your wounds, and I'll tell you a story." His soft lips pulled into a smirk. But he was right; her wounds had begun to sting, and although the blood loss was slowing, the glass would still need removing. Getting answers was more important than her pride. 

"Fine."

His smirk deepened as he pulled himself upright. The metal clang of the sword unceremoniously hitting the desk was too loud in the tense night air. But King Evander's strong arm wrapped around her waist, and he gently guided her out of the ransacked office. Alpha Kai was going to kill her.

The heady scent of lilac and jasmine surrounded her as she felt his weight against her back, making her blood roar. Her mind fought the urge to surrender to him completely as the deep thrum of his purrs warmed her core.

Focus.

King Evander's room was on the second floor, a large room with a mahogany bed much more extensive than her own. Deep blue drapes hung from the bedposts, cascading into pools of velvet on the thick cream carpet beneath her feet. A stone fireplace warmed the room to an almost stifling temperature, the fire crackling as he pulled her towards an armchair. 

"Sit." He positioned her in front of the chair and slid his calloused hand down her arm as she sunk into the navy and gold embroidered cushions. His eyes shone yellow in the reflection of the flames, the only source of light in the room cast deep shadows across the panelled walls. The gloom swallowed him, and a soft click of a door opening sounded from the other side of the room. He reappeared by her side with a small first aid kit. 

"You're going to treat my wounds?"

He snorted. "Does that surprise you?"

"You didn't strike me as the tender loving type." 

His hand went to his chest, and feigning a wince, he said: "the pretty wolf has such a wicked tongue."

She rolled her eyes as he sank to his knees in front of her. His hand wrapped around her ankle and pulled her foot onto his colossal thigh. Goddess, she liked him like this. She gripped the arms of the chair as he inspected her legs for shards of glass.

"You don't seem as... tormented as most males when they find their mate," she said after a pause.

"Well," he turned her foot in his hand as he spoke, "you don't seem like the type to put up with a male hounding you."

She supposed he was right. The males at her father's court had made their intentions very clear when she was young, even though most of them had been twice her age and counting. Their desperation to be made part of the royal family disgusted her, but her father had simply told her that it was part of being a Princess. She existed to please males. When her father had told her that she would be marrying an old alpha from one of the largest packs in Venelia, she had locked herself in her room for a week. She had been 14 years old, a week after her first blood. The day before the wedding, she had left the palace under cover of darkness and not looked back.

Males had been hounding her ever since, but instead of prospective mates, it had been her father and brother. 

"King Evander?"

"Goddess, Sapphira. Call me Evander--you're my equal," he said.

"... Evander?" 

He looked up at her through his dark lashes, tucking his thick curls behind his ear. The dull click of glass shards dropping into a metal tray between his knees had been the only evidence of his quick work. He must have used a numbing salve.

"I believe you have a story to tell me," she said, watching him inspect the last gash on her thigh. His face was so close to her, and her fingers itched to reach out and touch him, to pull him under her skirts and ride his face into oblivion. The bond started to shine between them as her core throbbed with need. His thumb slid over the open wound, and her skin tingled and knitted shut in its wake.

The scent of her need filled the room, and he snapped his head up to meet her soft gaze. 

"Sapphira." His moan was guttural, and he watched with predatory stillness as she slid her hips towards him. A desperate mewl escaped her lips, a sound that she had never made before that made her cheeks flush.

"Sapphira," he said again. "As much as I would love to make you scream and writhe underneath me," his eyes darkened, and he flicked his tongue over the inside of her thigh, "I believe you requested a story."

She whimpered her annoyance, but as he pulled back and stood, the evidence of his arousal pressed tightly against his grey woollen trousers. Sapphira's mouth went dry.

The soft clink of crystal dragged her thoughts back to the matter at hand. 

"Asra is unlike Venelia in many ways, but perhaps the most startling difference is that magic is much stronger there. There are magical beings that most wolves have never even heard of, let alone seen. My father hunted these beings, burned their homes, and slit their throats, all in the name of the crown. 

"Just after I was born, my father decided to host a celebration to welcome his heir into the world. At the time, war raged across Asra--I'm sure you're aware that this war was the result of my father's tyrannical rule and was in its twelfth year at the time." He passed her an amber liquid in a crystal cut glass and sat opposite her with a sigh. 

"Only wolves were allowed at the celebration, which upset some influential fae court members. The fae decided that they would punish my father by cursing me, his only child and heir. Those attending the celebration had brought gifts at my father's request, and the fae used this opportunity to condemn my rule. As soon as I turned eighteen, my father's rule would end and the war with it, but neither side would win. I would inherit a war-torn land that would never recover from my father's greediness; my kingdom paused in a wretched uninhabitable state."

The chiming of a clock sounded from out in the hallway.

"But what the fae hadn't realised is that a wolf's strength is dependent on their environment. My lands are dangerous; even the weaker creatures could take down a wolf. As a result, my wolf is different." He paused, swirling his drink, "for a long time, I desperately tried to hide him because my people were terrified of what we might do. On my nineteenth birthday, I woke up to find that I had slaughtered my entire court."

A log cracked in the grate, and Sapphira twitched her whole body tense.

"How old are you now?" She breathed.

"Twenty-four," his haunted eyes met hers.

"How do you break the curse?"

"I don't." He said.

"You're stuck like this forever?"

"Time will tell." He took a long drink.

If what he had told her was true, Asra sounded worse than her father's court. Why would he continue to live there? She opened her mouth to ask him when the sound of wolves outside the door startled them both.

"It's late. I should let you sleep." His chair creaked as he rose. 

"I'm sleeping in here? With you?"

"Would you prefer it if I slept outside?"

"Well, I-"

"Don't worry. I don't bite," Evander's fangs elongated down to the point of his chin, and he grinned. She wanted his mouth on her, fangs and all. 

"Pretty wolf," he chuckled, reading her expression.

She scowled at him and flounced over towards where she guessed the bathroom was.

The bathroom was an immaculate space: white and black chequered floor tiles, white tiled walls and an enormous white tub in the centre of the room, balanced on gilded claws clutching jade spheres. 

Ridiculous.

The double shower on the back wall called to her, and she stepped out of her tattered dress and turned it on. Warm water began to pour from an ornate overturned vase that sat high on a shelf in the wall, cascading down, before simply disappearing into the wooden slats on the floor. Another button turned on extra jets within the wall that twinkled with coloured lights and blasted delicious currents into her back and down her thighs. A moan slipped between her lips as she tilted her head back and felt her skin tingle with the warmth of the water. This was probably the best shower she'd ever had. 

As she showered the dirt and leaves and blood off, she thought about what Evander had told her. If no one could break his curse, what was he supposed to do? What was she supposed to do? Her mate was one of the most powerful wolves in history, and his kingdom was uninhabitable. Somehow, it was still a better option than ending up back with her father and brother.

And why was Alpha Kai such a good friend to him? The Bridgewater pack was far from the Asran border, and there were very few trade routes into Venelia. It didn't seem likely that Evander had come to the southern Mating Ball to find a mate since, like her, he would be expecting his mate to be powerful and high ranking. Unless Alpha Kai had told Evander his suspicions about Sapphira's actual family and he had come especially. But why would the Alpha hand her over to Evander when the reward for returning her to her father would be higher? And there was no way he could have known that they were would-be mates.

There were so many questions, and even though the mating bond screamed at her that she could trust Evander, years of living on the run told her differently. 

She shut off the shower with a sigh and wrapped herself in a huge fluffy towel. 

Evander was sitting on the edge of the bed when she came out of the bathroom. He had undone most of his shirt buttons and was hunched forward, nursing his drink. He looked younger, even with worry lines creasing his forehead. As she approached, he sat up, his face returning to his usual cocky grin, and he raised an eyebrow realising she was wearing just a towel.

"What have I done to deserve this honour?" His eyes sparkled in the low lighting.

A smirk pulled at her lips, and she swayed her hips slightly as she walked past him and to the other side of the bed. He didn't turn, so she let the towel drop to the floor with a gentle thud and watched his back stiffen. His chest rumbled, but he still didn't turn. So she slid beneath the crisp sheets and snuggled into the downy pillows. Then he turned. 

The yellow orbs of his eyes reflected all of the light in the room, and his fangs pressed into his lips. Sapphira squeezed her legs together and whimpered. His nostrils flared at the sound, but he shook his head violently. 

"We both need to sleep well tonight if we're going to be ready for the journey tomorrow."

"We're leaving?" She sat up, clutching the covers to her chest.

"My appearance here will draw out your family, and that's not what either of us needs. So yes, first thing tomorrow, we'll be going to Asra."

"How long will it take to get there?" She knew it would be quite a long drive to the border, but she had never made the journey before.

"Ahhh. You'll see." He winked before peeling off his clothes and slipping beneath the covers, leaving just his boxers. In the low lighting, she couldn't see more than the outline of his very muscular body, but her body clenched with desire at the thought of him. The soft scent of him and the gentle crackle of the fire lulled her to sleep quickly, and she dreamed of a dark and desolate kingdom home to a glorious and lonely King.