LOGINShare
15
Last Updated:
2024-10-29 19:42:56River does not know what to expect when Hadrius had commanded her to sleep in his bed for the night.
His demand, curt and cold, feels like a hunting crop lashed across her face, and she stands before the queen sized bed in a daze, hectic spots of red dotting her cheeks.
Her mind reels with dark, nebulous thoughts. Having just barely survived Odin’s sexually deviant behaviour, she wonders if Hadrius is trying to do the same, perhaps in a more coaxing manner. Like a spider, he is slowly luring her in gossamer threads, wrapping her gently, spreading her wide— her mouth grows bone dry at the prospect of him.
Unlike Odin, Hadrius is an intimidating behemoth of a creature. She could not fight him off, and if she did try, River is sure he would snap her elbows within a heartbeat.
He is your master, the voice urges, dryly unpleasant, stealing her fears beneath the conventional expected role of a servant.
You do not deny the man who claimed you
Related chapters
The Beast's Slave 16
While wiping the warlord of his own potent cum, River realizes two things; one of them being he holds a beautiful, distinct mole just below his navel, like a dappling horse.The second is, beneath his intent, lambent gaze the room suddenly swells around her like a bruise. It is just the two of them yet she feels the four wood walls press towards her, like lungs that had breathed in.As the cloth rubs at his torso, feeling ridges of muscles bump beneath, River focuses on each narrowed breath. The room smells musky and sour at once, as though a thousand suffering people lay sweating in it, and then ground roses into the floor with dirty feet.She lowers her head further, chin almost brushing her chest, urging the singed strands of hair to curtain her face as fingers of flame slowly wrap around her neck then ears, pinching them red. River blinks hard as the cloth scrapes lower and lower still, sucking her tongue hard as his cock comes to view, limply resting on the
The Beast's Slave 17
“It seems they were here.” Hadrius tilts his head heavenwards, studying the faint crowding of dark clouds. His nostrils flare mildly as he inhales and lowers his gaze back to the path set before them.A village had been massacred— and it was not by his men.The buildings are delapitated structures that remain standing through faith and decaying pillars, blood sleek across earth crusted walls and soil as though someone had done it deliberately. He drags a thoughtful finger through the dirt and lifts it to his nose, taking a short whiff before licking the sand, sucking his finger thoughtfully.It tastes familiar, of dirt and rustic blood yet underneath lies a subtle undertone of fur.The taste of something putrid… rotten… nonhuman.It is neither the wolves nor is it the vampires.Hadrius gathers a fistful of the coarse sand and straightens, watching as the contents slip from between his fingers. “Any survi
The Beast's Slave 18
River is running.She stumbles over numerous rocks and felled trees along her path, myriads of cuts form along her bare calves and forearms, one stray branch swipes along her cheek, drawing blood.She does not stop.The earth is dry beneath her feet. Frigid night air like razors slicing through her trachea and lungs with each pained inhale. She half-wonders if anyone would notice whether she had escaped. There were numerous slaves and the beasts treated them with indifference, her absence would hardly make a dent.Right?Then why is she frantically sprinting through the forest? Why is her heart slamming with a vicious intensity against her ribcage, rising her swelling throat and finally ears. She sees nothing but the twilight sky and dim dots of stars. There is no moon tonight. Her supposed final night of living.If tomorrow is the day we leave, what do we do with them?We discard them.Discard them. Hadrius h
The Beast's Slave 19
River had never fought for her life as much as she did at that moment.Twisting, screaming, lunging, ducking — she spares Hadrius no reprieve as her body hunches forward and catapults straight towards the behemoth of a man. With a battle cry, she raises her stick, aiming for any open body part.Hadrius does not move as space closes; if anything his eyes sparkle in thorough amusement at her flushed face. This only sparks fire on her flint of rage.I’ll kill you, she promises, swinging the stick down towards him.Hadrius side steps with ease, and the stick passes where he once stood. Before River can regain herself, his foot stretches out and trips her by the ankle. She stumbles and sloppily falls to the ground, weapon almost slipping from her palm as she lands on her hands and knees.“You cannot fight,” his taunting voice echoes and licks at her salty skin, “Nor can you serve me as a slave. There is nothing rem
The Beast's Slave 20
Hadrius’ sigh of deflation is drowned out by the wails and shrieks of female slaves as they are cut down all around him.He moves in a manner of languid indifference, shifting from one side of his room to the next, picking his large silver sword and sheathing it against his waist.The room contains all materials he had gathered during their annual raid, from exotic cities to temples and churches. Each item of decor must have cost an insurmountable amount, yet it was all to be burned.He would return with nothing to the kingdom for no item held sentimental value.Such as the slaves.Beyond the walls he hears the dogged earnest steps of a woman trying to escape the vicious wolves. Her scream is cut off by the sudden lunge of one animal, canines sinking into her neck, ripping out her trachea with practiced ease.It was all too noisy.Had he had his own way, Hadrius would have commanded his men to kill them whilst they slept. The sw
The Beast's Slave 21
“Wash and wait for me in my tent, naked and on your knees.”River’s pulse beats thickly in her veins as she paces back and forth in Hadrius’ tent. His clear voice, like ice-melted streams and tinged fury, echoes over and over in her mind until her skin swells with anticipation.He had saved her, but not for amiable reasons. No, he probably wanted one last fuck, and then he would dispose of her body in the forest. She had not been a fool, for she considered all possible situations whilst strapped to the uncomfortable saddle, one of them being her death. Yet, she had not expected him to dispose of her so quickly- so early. It left no time for her to assemble the threads of a proper escape plan.River pauses and edges towards the tent’s entrance. She lifts the flap and cautiously peers outside. Her gaze sweeps over the Lycan men that move about, their dark figures seemingly magnified by the bonfire that casts resplendent light
The Beast's Slave 22
River breaks the water’s surface with a strangling gasp.A hot burning sensation spreads along the bridge of her nose and head, as she had mistakenly inhaled a lungful of water once they plunged into the freezing water. The impact had stolen her breath, and she reflexively released Hadrius.River coughs violently while her arms flail about, reaching for any sort of anchor and flat ground. There is none. Dark water rolls over her face and the roaring waterfall begins to dim as the black serpentine river slowly meanders further from the foaming base.She struggles to swim, but does not know how, and resorts to maintaining a rather pitiful doggy paddle that still periodically submerges her beneath the icy waters.Something hard wraps around her waist from behind and she gasps again, reflexively swallowing a bellyful of water. The arm pulls her back against a chest as they break the water’s surface again, this time more steadily and she’s he
The Beast's Slave 23
Never in his lifetime did Hadrius think he would ever stand before his Alpha, Luna and council members with a sickly human in his arms.The council hall is a large dome-shaped building with rows of seated members that form a half-circle, and at the centre lies a raised platform.Before him sit six judges and between the judges lies the Alpha and his pregnant Luna, whose gazes linger on him, not once lowering to the human.On numerous occasions, Hadrius had participated in the judging council, usually overhearing martial cases and those that required the death penalty as a deciding factor.Not once did he presume himself to be a Lycan that would be summoned before them; like a specimen, he stands beneath their scrutinizing, prodding gazes that regard him with an air of speculation. Some noses wrinkle in blatant revulsion at the sight of the mortal, and their saline stench of adventure.Despite his significantly old age, the Alpha looks no older than
Latest chapter
The Beast's Slave Bonus 1
The bonus chapter most people have been waiting for and an important note at the end. “Brother.” The warlord glances up from the alliance paper sprawled before him and at Cain who sits at the head of the table. Beside him is another Alpha, supposedly from another wolf pack that Hadrius could not remember. There was a lot to remember. Hadrius blinks and Cain’s pointed stare drops to the table, “Will you not sign it?” The warlord glances down once more to find the ink pen had dripped onto the paper’s corner, a blank space still awaiting his signatory. He sits straighter and clears his throat, “Yes.” Drawing out his signature, Hadrius caps the pen and slides it towards the awaiting mediators and legal advisors who peer over the papers once more before nodding at the pack leader. Every man rises then, pausing to stare upon Cain and the new Alpha as they exchange firm handshakes and murmurs of ‘we
The Beast's Slave epilogue
The week had gone by in a blur of activities; Novus’ final sighting before the eyes of the public - his execution and burning at the altar. There had been an incoherent pleasure that drifted through the warlord at the sight of Novus’ clipped and outraged face as he gazed upon River, alive and healthy despite his endeavours. He had gone into a frenzy, a sort of madness, regression as the guards dragged him up to the altar. Blood and fluids trailed in rivulets down the man’s wounded body, gaping gulleys of flesh and flashing alabaster bones still unhealed in display for those watching in raptured silence. He was cursing the brothers out. Eyes wide and terror-filled, frothing at the mouth as indecipherable words left him. Neither Hadrius nor Cain flinched at the horrific sight, their countenance masks of clean-cut stone, pristine and unwavering at his curses that dissolved to pleading and begging. They fell on deaf ears. The guards bore him down on the wooden cr
The Beast's Slave 69
Hadrius sighs, “No you’re not.”River’s smile droops, “You have to admit it was a good prank.”Wordlessly he draws her beneath the sheets, worn out not only from the day but her endless antics. For the first time in a long time, Hadrius feels his age. Unable to keep up with her youthful banter and annoyance that is endearing but twists something ageing in him.Her purring picks up in the silence, filling the void as he strokes her hair lethargically. “I have a question for you.”River’s head tilts up in his embrace, searching his face in the darkness.His gaze remains fixated on the wall, then slowly draws down to her. “Would you like to be Luna?”“Luna?” She echoes and he nods.“It’s a title parallel to queen.”“Oh,” he feels her fingers play with his pierced nipple, rolling the barbel back and forth. “No.”
The Beast's Slave 68
“She performed a partial shift.”The warlord’s intent, worried stare lifts from his mate currently sitting on the healer’s table, and to the source. The healer stands by his side holding a large leather-bound book with ancient diseases and plagues that befall the Lycans. His hand rises to rub the throbbing spot between his brow, a tension headache bloomed out of fear and pure terror for his mate.Thrice in his life now River has nearly given him heart attacks and high blood pressure.“A partial shift,” he murmurs thoughtfully. Such shifts were rare, one in every five centuries would either be born with the inability to fully shift or a human turned would only grow out their tail and ears.His gaze returns to his mate, now freshly dressed in a clean white shirt and skirt, her bare feet doodling circles on the air below. She is rubbing her ears in wonder, turning her head this way and that whilst staring at her reflection
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
River woke with a fire of determination lining her veins. All she sees is red whilst stomping down the palace’s hallway in search of the one person who would know Hadrius better than she did.Despite the weather’s coolness, dark winter clouds lumbering lowly, heavily, River still feels the prickling sensation of heat on her skin, rubbing its friction hands up her inner thighs, cupping her throbbing womanhood.Hadrius had refused to touch her and she threw a tantrum throughout the night, then cried believing that he would allow her to suffer in such a way. In retrospect, River cannot help but cringe inwardly at the realization that she truly shed tears over his cock and sudden chastity.It’s the heat, she reasons, it has to be.Since its beginning, she had been nothing but affectionate for the warlord, oftentimes wanting to hold him if not fuck him. The emotions that tumult within felt vivid; love, caring and adoration. Sometimes she woul
The Beast's Slave 65
The serenade of the black wintry sky is filled with a choir of stars that sing patterns across the dark, each musical note wavering in the air and seeping into the warlord’s room.The silence is broken by such song, along with the restless shifting of covers as River lies beside him in unsettled slumber.Something slips through her blood and she turns, unconsciously slinging her leg around Hadrius’ waist, but the brushing of sweltering skin is enough to shed hairs of sleep from her mind. Peeling one hesitant eye open, she peers briefly around the room through a hooded lid, then slumps back onto the pillow beneath her.There, she finds herself torn between the carousel of ideas that fill her awakened mind and the whispers of sleep that still call back to her.River sighs against her arm. An itch dances along her nose but she brushes it away, following the movement of her hand to the slumbering behemoth beside her.The twisted bedsheets d
The Beast's Slave 64
Hadrius stares.The numbing shock that cripples his nerves only thickens at the sight of his human. She still watches him, a slight haze to her cloudy eyes and she blinks once more, the earthen color shifting to golden if not for more than a second before dissolving.His lips part to speak but no sound leaves.His hand tries to rise and reach for her but leads weighs them down. A shocking anchor rooting each limb to the spot.Seemingly undisturbed, or perhaps unaware of his distraught state, River searches his face over and over, suddenly alert and confirming a dreadful suspicion that did not come to pass.She sinks back into the table. “I thought you had died—” A startled huff of breath vacates her lungs as the Warlord’s large body suddenly climbs atop hers.Hadrius does not know what he is doing, not until his hands reach for her face with desperate urgency, his mouth finding her own in a bruising kiss as teeth graz
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.
