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2024-10-29 19:42:56River sits on a bare rock, eyeing the warlord stalk up and down in a flurry of anger.
His rage is hot enough to roll off him in thick, stinging waves that lick at the bare skin of her legs, which scrape against the rock under her. His skin is sleek with a dancing of blood, like that of the petals of poppies - both Cain’s and his.
The outburst of violence had caught her off-guard and when she had turned, Cain’s neck was embedded with a knife. The injury, although maiming, had not deterred the brother from attacking Hadrius.
In the end, Hadrius had decidedly picked her up from the corner of the room, where she had crouched to prevent being crushed, and tossed her over his shoulder before storming out of the house.
Now she sits on a rock, still in his shirt, watching the Beta pace out his rage.
The air is thin with tension as unspoken words and insults swell on his tongue and flex his jaw. Hadrius rakes a frustrated hand through his hair, only sm
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The Beast's Slave 48
River stirs awake to the covers shifting above her. Vaguely, she feels Hadrius’ nose brush hers, his mouth a hair’s breadth away and slightly panting warmth against her own face. She scowls softly in her sleep only to falter at the faint sound of something stirring beneath the covers. His long powerful leg is thrown over her hips, subtly pulling her pelvis closer but not completely. Though they are not touching, his body radiates heat like a freshly lit brick oven, and something touches her belly a moment later. River opens one eye, only to lock with dark, heavy lidded ones that watch her. Her expression is that of sleepy bemusement. It is not until Hadrius presses a hot, open mouthed kiss to her lips that she realizes what is happening. Even with her brain still captured in sleep’s webs, she knows exactly what is occurring beneath the sheets. His teeth sink into her lower lip with a muffled, throaty growl as his hand pumps his cock beneath th
The Beast's Slave 49
River does not notice the incandescent look on Hadrius’ face; her gaze remains fixated on Cain. He watches his brother, then her, the same punishing smile unwavering on his mouth.Hadrius walks out of the room then, leaving only the two of them.Her mind is a pool of blankness.Cain had stripped Hadrius of his skin at that moment, and now she finally understood and saw him for what he was: a wounded, abandoned, rejected man. Betrayed by his blood and heart. A Lycan reduced to the ashes of a mortal man who was just as easily vulnerable.He could not give his mate a child, and for that, she sought out his brother as an alternative.“He should have told you from the start,” Cain declares, an idle drifting intonation to his words. “Deceit in a relationship is not a relationship to begin with, and if he claims you to be his chosen mate, you deserve the truth.”River stares, a feeling of numbness growing inside her, b
The Beast's Slave 50
Planning an invasion and possible war was a feat deserving of a few weeks’ worth of work, sometimes multiple months on end, at worst a year or two. Hadrius would know for he once led the Alpha’s army into battle, claiming territory, staking lives, leaving Novus’ blood mark on darkened hallways as a symbol of his seizure.The Shadow Pack’s claim.For three centuries, he had built the kingdom from the ashes to its final grace.And in three weeks, he would take it all back.Cain sighs beside him, drawing Hadrius’ attention from the innumerable maps sprawled out before them in the study room. The table is flanked with items: compasses, ink markings and miniature structures of what would become their army.The past week had been spent in the same room from dawn to dusk, plotting and planning, restructuring and debating until finally, the foundation had been underpinned.“He will be expecting us,” Hadrius
The Beast's Slave 51
Hadrius wanted to see her every expression above his own - the tightness to her jaw slackening as his warm mouth meets the soft flesh of her inner thigh in an open mouthed kiss. His tongue presses on her burning skin, tasting sweat, her scent and his own.Hadrius buries his nose into the delicate crevice of her inner thigh and moans in theatrical exaggeration. His hot tongue drags over the hollow of her leg, and the throbbing pulse of her femoral artery, then back down again. Each time he would edge higher, graze the soft trimmed dark curls, tentatively bite on her outer lips, then release and lick a path back down. Her pussy radiates heat like an inferno inches from his rough cheek, aching for his touch.River’s hands grip his roots, demurely steering him towards her crotch but he braces a large palm on her thigh, stopping her.“Patience,” the warlord chastises, mirthful eyes dancing up to meet her glowering ones. Her face is scarlet, the hood
The Beast's Slave 52
“Your grip is loose.”“Straighten your hips.”“Power comes from the legs.”“Stop slouching.”“Higher.”“Faster.”“Harder—”River’s face flushes with the strain of exercise after yielding and unyielding her sword repeatedly for the past several hours; her arms shudder with exhaustion, her muscles tensing like overplucked bow strings. The sun rests behind a thick layer of darkened clouds, autumn’s final breeze wallowing past her sweat-slick face, stirring stray strands of hair that slip from her loose ponytail.Hadrius watches her, his gaze sharper than the blade she wields. His countenance is a blank slate despite her numerous failures, offering no reaction each time she regurgitates a mistake - only humming in disapproval when she nearly twists her ankle while racing from one end to another.“Your feet, human,&rdqu
The Beast's Slave 53
Hadrius lingers by the hallway, his form hidden in the dark shadows that lick across his skin, pressing him further in.The kitchen is not far ahead, glowing light spilling from the burning fireplace and casting the two shifting shadows within. His footsteps are noiseless as the distance between closes and their voices take on a prominent form.“...Where is your family?” Cain’s voice is husky and distinct, and holds a curious yet familiar playful edge to it. Hadrius halts by the entrance, still masked by the murmuring shadows that joined him in his eavesdropping.His human does not reply immediately, the recognisable sound of a knife cutting on a chopping board echoing throughout.The cutting falters but only slightly. “I have no family.”The warlord can almost envision his brother’s eyebrow rising to the ceiling. “An orphan?”The indignant twitching of his mate’s jaw flickers in his mind
The Beast's Slave 54
Fear.Hadrius knew that word well for it had always been something that creatures would live, swallow, breathe from one of his glances alone.Fear.He had cast it in people’s hearts, as a hot iron blade branded skin, so the warlord marked his presence with it. Scarcely had he ever felt such an emotion, and the mere thought of it felt foreign, distant- almost nonexistent.He thought he would never have to feel such a way again.But here. Now. Staring at his human, poised at the table with her fingertip sliced clean- the warlord finally feels the unfamiliar emotion surge through his veins like ice cold fire.“Human-” Hadrius’ voice cracks like chords tearing. His throat constricts with sound. There is blood. Bright blood spilling like a secret on the table, trickling down the cupboard, dripping onto the floor in puddles of poppy petals.Yet she does not notice the inflicted wound, her own incredulous eye
The Beast's Slave 55
River sits on the toilet seat, silently cradling her throbbing hand.It burns with a blinding intensity that momentarily robs her of coherence until all she can do is whimper and rock back and forth. The stabbing heat, however, is no match for Hadrius’ words and despite her maimed state, she manages a faint scowl.The shifting in her peripheral view reminds her that she is not alone.“How’s the hand, girl?”Cain still leans against the doorframe, a rugged hellhound peering from between his legs. She casts a weary, sidelong glance to the man, then the hellhound whose lips part only further as their gazes lock. Its serpent-like tongue lolls out, slobbers of drool like ropes puddling on the floor.River averts her attention back to her injured hand. It still bleeds and her shirt grows sticky. “It hurts,” she admits with an obvious, harsh edge to her tone.Cain pushes off the wall and approaches her. Wordlessl
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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.
