《The Beast》Chapter 8

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The sun was barely starting to set over the horizon when the Beast helped me up on a massive steed and climbed up behind me.

He’d tried getting me to stay back again, but I’d insisted, too worried about what my father was going through if he was in that much trouble. I knew enough about Gaston that the man was evil to the bone, and I had no doubt he would torture my father just for the hell of it. I had to do everything in my power to help, even if this was foolish of me.

The stallion huffed and stomped as I gripped the reins. I blew out a slow stream of breath when the Beast placed a paw over my belly, pulling me back against the hardness of his chest.

I felt so dainty against him, his palm nearly covering me from breast to pelvic bone, his thighs as thick as my torso and framing either side of me. I’d never felt safer.

I glanced over my shoulder and tipped my head back so I could look into his face. He was already watching me. I hardly knew the Beast, had only been here for such a short time, yet inexplicably I trusted him.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t told me not to come. I didn’t listen, so I had to take responsibility for my own actions. And that meant I needed to be strong in the face of my fear of the uncertainty of what we were about to ride into.

“I would prefer you stayed.” When I didn’t respond, he gave me a semblance of a smile. “As I thought,” he murmured. “I will protect you,” he said and tightened his hand against my belly.

I faced forward, nodding even though I wasn’t looking at him anymore. And then we were off, the stallion picking up speed the farther we got from the castle.

We were a couple of miles away, deep into the woods, the sun already having fully set when the wind decided to pick up.

I tightened my cloak, securing the hood over my face better, but I worried about the Beast. I glanced over at him and saw he was focused in front of us, his expression fierce and powerful. He didn’t seem like he cared at all about the inclement weather.

He was also wholly desirable.

When did my fear for his unusual physique shift and change into something erotic and beautiful?

I had to face forward and close my eyes, taking a deep breath so I didn’t get aroused all over again.

The last thing I needed was to tempt him because he would be able to smell me.

But maybe he did sense my desire because I felt something along my leg and glanced down to see the Beast’s tail wrapped around my calf. It wasn’t tight, but it was secure, and strangely enough, I felt like it was an act of possessiveness.

I stared at his tail, at the sleek, silky fur that covered it and the tuft of darker fur at the end. My thoughts turned loud as I imagined him running it along my naked body.

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I lowered my head and gritted my teeth, trying to act like I had control of myself. I heard the sound of a wolf howling, knew we were getting close to the village border, and my anxiety rose.

I hadn’t questioned why my father wanted to meet there instead of at our cottage. I just assumed he wanted ambiguity, his shame too strong to let anyone else see him begging for help, especially from the Beast.

I saw the wall of the village, an imposing structure of wooden planks and pointed tops with burning torches on each end.

The closer we got, the clearer I spotted my father standing out to the side, his short, stout figure cloaked in heavy wool, the hood up, his movements antsy as he paced back and forth.

The Beast pulled the steed to a stop a short distance away from where my father paced. I could feel how tense my new husband was behind me, his paw like a vise around my abdomen.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered, feeling my own anxiousness rise at his response to the situation.

He growled and I looked around, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Something felt off but I couldn’t place it. I didn’t see or hear anything aside from my father slowly making his way toward us, the leaves and twigs cracking under his boots.

But when the Beast started growling louder, I held my breath and braced myself.

“Belle?” my father said, and I was about to get off the saddle when the Beast made a low sound of disapproval and pulled me harder against his chest.

“I didn’t think you would come,” my father said softly, and now that he was close enough I could see him eyeing the Beast warily although I found it strange seeing as he asked for my husband to come with me.

“You find me so heartless as to not help?”

He shook his head. “Of course not. It’s just after everything…” He glanced at the Beast before looking back at me. “Anyway, thank you for helping me.” He addressed my husband, who still sat tense behind me, not responding.

I still felt the tightening on the back of my neck, the hair on my arms standing on end. “Something’s wrong,” I said more to myself but the words came out regardless, echoing all around me.

It was only a heartbeat after I spoke those words that the Beast growled louder, and a second later we were thrown off the stallion.

I braced myself for impact, but the Beast twisted just before we crashed to the forest ground, taking the brunt of the force, my back landing on his chest.

I heard the Beast roar out a second before someone grabbed my hair and I was dragged off suddenly. Whoever held my hair tugged so hard I cried out in pain.

My ears stung as I lifted my hands to grip the fingers that dug into my scalp, hoping to ease some of the pain and pressure.

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I was tossed aside, the air leaving me roughly. I pushed myself up quickly, and that was when I saw several men with torches and pitchforks raised in the air, charging after the Beast.

Oh, God. It was an ambush.

My husband stood before them like the very devil himself. He ripped off the cloak, tore at his shirt until it fluttered in tattered pieces to the ground, and then he was tipping his head back and roaring so loud the leaves above shook.

The moonlight highlighted his horns and powerful physique, and if I didn’t know how gentle he could be with me, I’d have screamed in terror and escaped.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

I could hear my father repeating that apology over and over again and spotted him off to the side standing next to… Gaston, who had an evil gleam in his eyes, a sadistic smirk on his lips, and stared at the Beast as if he wanted so much blood until he was coated in it.

“What have you done?” I whispered but neither man paid attention, the growls and roars of the Beast mixing with the shouts and curses of the villagers who continued to attack him.

“The Beast needs to be taken out. He needs to be eradicated and rid of this world. He’s evil and is nothing but a corruption. He doesn’t deserve the wealth he has. He doesn’t deserve you, Belle. I’m going to fix that, though. I’m the man—” Gaston shouted as he pounded his chest like a barbarian “—who’s going to be the hero of this story.”

The Beast roared out again and I focused on my husband. When one of them charged forward, the Beast flung him away as easily as if he were an annoying fly.

But then another threw a pitchfork, the prongs sticking into his furry body before he gave a rage-filled growl and ripped it out, flinging it back to the man. I heard the human men screaming in pain, pitchforks sticking out of their bodies, the scent of blood coating the air.

Gaston made an angry sound. I heard a revolver being drawn. I looked over my shoulder to see Gaston holding the gleaming metal in his hand. Bodies were littered around, the men who attacked now nothing more than corpses on the forest ground.

The Beast’s chest was rising and falling, his broad, massive shoulders and chest so wide he blocked out anything else behind him. Although it was fairly dark and I couldn’t see much, I could see he had wounds and could smell the coppery tang of blood in the air.

“You,” the Beast snarled and lifted a huge furry arm to point a deadly black claw at my father. I watched in awe as that claw grew a little longer, became a little sharper. “Leave before I tear out your trachea for putting Belle in danger.”

I felt dizzy as I snapped my focus to my father. He didn’t even look at me as he hightailed it in the other direction. I lifted a hand to my chest, feeling that last shred of familial love fade. He’d left me, didn’t even check to see if I was okay.

I knew this was the last time I’d see him, and strangely enough… it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

“And you,” the Beast growled so menacingly at Gaston that I shivered in response, hearing the nocturnal animals scurrying away as fast as their little legs could take them.

“I’m going to make sure your death is slow and painful, satisfying my bloodlust and delivering your heart in my palm to my female.”

The Beast took a step forward, and I swore everything happened in slow motion as Gaston took aim. I didn’t even realize I was moving until I was running toward Gaston.

I heard the Beast roar out, then the cracking bang of the revolver going off before I was shoved to the side.

I quickly checked to make sure I hadn’t been shot—in too much shock to let it sink in—but when I realized I was unharmed, I glanced back at where the two males stood off to the side.

Gaston didn’t have time to shoot again, not when the Beast was already charging forward and gripping him around his meaty neck and lifting him off the ground.

He grabbed Gaston’s wrist that held the revolver, lifted it high in the air and, with a sickening crack, broke the bone. The weapon fell to the ground and Gaston howled in pain.

“I am going to enjoy this, especially with my female watching me slay the ones who would have hurt her, who put her in danger.”

I should have stopped the Beast, maybe pleaded to let Gaston live. But I said nothing. None of the men who attacked the Beast deserved to live.

I felt my stomach clench when the Beast plunged his fist into Gaston’s chest, breaking through his ribcage, pulled out his heart, and held it in his palm as if it were nothing but a piece of fruit.

He dropped Gaston to the ground, his lifeless body crumpling as if a rag doll.

Then my monstrous husband turned to face me and held out his arm, presenting Gaston’s bloody heart to me.

“Beast,” I whispered, knowing I should feel fear, but I felt something darker, something dangerous, that filled my blood and made me hot.

He dropped that organ to the ground, lowered his head and flared his nostrils, and he inhaled… as he scented the wetness that was steadily coating that intimate spot between my thighs.

The Beast was panting as we faced off, my father long gone after the warning, Gaston and the others nothing but corpses around us.

“Run, Belle,” he growled. “Run as fast as you can, because when I catch you—and I will—I am going to fuck you so hard there will be no doubt who you belong to.”

I didn’t need any other warning. I turned and ran.

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