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11

Author: Carrel
last update Last Updated: 2021-04-20 23:22:45

River wakes before the crack of dawn - her body seemingly unable to capture a full night’s rest as she had tossed and turned on the hardened divan. She lays on her back, staring at the wall, hyper aware of the cold morning air that filters through partially opened windows, skimming over her sweat drenched skin.

Goosebumps rise.

She sighs and rubs her eyes while slowly pushing herself into an upright position. Automatically, her eyes slant towards the large figure that remains still beneath a thin silk sheet. Hadrius is motionless, save for the slight rise and fall of his chest. He lies on his back, one arm cast over his eyes, the other resting over his bandaged torso.

She studies his form, realizing then just how large the man is -- it seems the queen sized bed is not sufficient for his bare foot peeks just about the edge. She traces the curve of tribal markings along the sole of his foot, wrapping around each toe, and wonders why he seems so intent on cov

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Comments (2)
goodnovel comment avatar
Bella Jersey
Oh god this where I’m getting scared
goodnovel comment avatar
Debbie Kershaw
Think am gonna have to stop reading this cause I have not idea what’s going on. To far too much detail an drags out. Sorry I gave it my best
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    Hadrius did not return throughout the evening.River remains in the room, pacing back and forth, unable to still the lengthy juddering of her heart. She pauses at one end of the room and gnaws on her fingernail, unconsciously biting too hard and drawing blood.The pain is sharp and instant, briefly drawing her from her mind in a web of stinging thoughts. "Fuck," she curses lowly and makes for his bathroom carefully washing it in the bowl of water before tearing a thin strip from the hem of her skirt and wrapping it around her thumb.The pacing continues.It does not stop until the familiar discordant sounds of voices echo from the outside as the beasts began their return, howls of their wolves drifts from the mountains and hills, resonant laughter.Nothing that gives evidence of tension.River’s shoulders sag. That could only mean that they did not know what Odin had done to her. Hadrius must have left the camp altogether.A kno

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    The icy grey sky restlessly grumbles as clouds part with a sigh, roaring rain pounding on the men, reflecting the hazardous yet calm anger that brews within the warlord.The harsh rain obliterates the crystal reflection of the sky and turns it into a disoriented haze that only sharpens his senses further acutely, and as darkness shifts, so does his reptilian calculative eyes - drifting from one man's face to another.In the dimness of his mind, Hadrius feels his wolf rise on its haunches, shifting the thinness of skin that struggles to maintain his human form. He is hot to the touch, firm lips twitching with a spasm of vexation.Anger is an understatement, fury itself seems nothing more than a speck of dust before the warlord's building temper. Knowing that one of his men had touched a possession of his was not only degrading but outright insulting. A challenge to his title for no respect lay in such actions.It stained his authority over them as Beta, se

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  • The Beast's Slave   67

    “Crawl to me.”Heat flares throughout River’s body as she kneels a distance from him, dark eyes fixated on the warlord’s shadowed face. Her lips are slightly parted to which she shuts gently as he arcs a sardonic eyebrow and taps a patient boot on the floor.River swallows, throat jerking against the dryness and obediently she lowers both palms onto the carpet. As her hands sink into the cushioned floor, blood rises stinging to her cheeks, wide eyes brilliant and unwavering on his dominant countenance.Slowly, like an obedient puppy, she obeys.Each movement is slow, her knee rising in tandem to each hand, hips swaying like a swelling tide in the ocean, from side to side. The sheer dress caresses her skin, whispering along the curves of her body and she feels her nubile breasts gently press on her inner arms as she crawls.He watches her. Hellfire swallowing his gaze in absolute darkness, not once leaving her face as space b

  • The Beast's Slave   66

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  • The Beast's Slave   65

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  • The Beast's Slave   64

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  • The Beast's Slave   63

    Cain stands on the ridge, watching the dark shapes of battle moving across the field. He cannot make out faces or individual forms. The charge of his hellhounds onto the final remaining Lycans, striking them down like useless things, uprooting them like weeds on a rainy day.The thrum of satisfaction juddering within feels like power, a hammering beat to his chest that lines his veins with the fire of victory. A godly glory.The writhing field is like a gorgon’s face slowly turning his face to cut stone. The kingdom had finally fallen.“Cain!”The voice that calls him is distinct, sharp as jagged sea rocks. Cain slowly angles his face over his shoulder, Lycan eyes offering clarity as the distant figures approach. He sees Hadrius leaping off a horse, his men not far behind.There is an urgency to his face; a twist of sheer cold terror that causes Cain to hesitate. Hadrius has something in his arms.Cain sees it in pieces.

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