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14
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 15
River 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
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
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