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“River.”
River blinks away from her stinging mind of thoughts, casting a sidelong glance at the room she is passing by. Her steps falter at the sight of Atticus lying on his back on a wide, pillowed bench, balancing a lyre on his stomach.
Idly, he plucks at it. His golden crown of hair held up with a leather strap. His skin is the colour of just-pressed olive oil, and smooth as polished wood, without the scabs and blemishes that covers the rest of youth his age.
Lambent eyes tilt in her direction, regarding her idly; “Join me.”
His presence, River decides, is like a stone in her shoe - impossible to ignore. Tucking her scowl away and hazardous thoughts, she takes a scuffling step into the room. His head lolls to the side to regard her, his eye heavy-lidded as his smile cat-like. “How are you?”
The question catches her off guard, and River takes a moment to process. “Fine,” she replies warily and his g
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All Hadrius sees is red.His hands clench into fists whilst striding down the hallway, blunt nails digging into the flesh of his palms, drawing rivulets of blood that slip from between his fingers like fine sand.Behind him trails his mate in silence, aware of his tensed, livid state, yet seeming indifferent to it. He smells the intoxicating wine that stains her lips, and beneath her scent is the Alpha’s son. Atticus. It stains her skin, her shoulder which he had touched, her forearm where he had pressed upon while they sat side by side.Pressure rises in the warlord’s mouth and a muscle leaps in his cheek at how he had found them.Atticus, the young ignorant brat of a pup, and his arrogant blatancy as he dared lay claim to his human.Hadrius cracks a knuckle and continues, unwilling to look over his shoulder. His teeth grind like motors and despite the cool night air that brushes past his coat, billowing it behind him, his skin tingles
The Beast's Slave 39
"Atticus." The warlord’s demoniac voice tunnels dangerously in her ear.Sliding his hands down her skin from her breasts, he catches his fingers in the waistline of her underwear and rips them sideways with enough intensity to bruise the skin of her hips. She remains bare from the shoulders down.His eyes devour her sun-bronzed skin. The sight of her pressed against the table, naked, slightly bent forward, her ass presented to him - causes his cock to throb so badly he thinks it would burst through the confines of his slacks.His hands caress over her bare skin. “Atticus,” he says, palming her ass and squeezing them hard, parting her cheeks and dripping flushed lips at once."Atticus.” He repeats venomously, darkness spilling into his tone.His left hand splays over her flesh, passing teasingly down over her pelvis until his hand eases between her thighs. A gasp catches in her throat as his fingers
The Beast's Slave 40
They came for him at dawn.River expects it, or so she tells herself. Much to her dismay, Hadrius had been insistent on waking her at three AM, not that she was able to sleep.His words run deep into her skin, withdrawing all heat until all she feels is cold. Hadrius somehow maintains his natural tranquil behavior whilst training her. While her heart judders and gut clenches in fear, his simply is; there is no disturbance in his features, or perhaps his calmness was a facade to keep hers in check.But it was dark, and she could not see his face whilst he fixed her grip on the sword, and taught her how to rotate her hips enough to draw momentum from them. When her lessons are over, River is sleek with sweat despite the frigid cold, and her muscles scream from the exertion.As they walk back in silence, her steps falter in the slightest, inadvertently creating distance between the two, and she gazes at his broad back with a sense of foreboding desperation.
The Beast's Slave 41
“Promise me you will be safe.” Hadrius’ whisper is harsh and holds a desperate, vulnerable edge to it, his eyes seeking his human’s as she kneels before him, still reeling in murky pained silence.“River-” Her eyes lift to meet his.The chains groan as his face dips towards her; he wishes to touch her one last time, for a single, blessed moment, and she hears his thought. Wordlessly, River rises on her knees and presses her brow to his, her mouth a heartbeat later. His lips whisper unspoken agony to hers as they kiss briefly, softly.The fear swells beneath his skin, threatening to tear him to shreds, and pain like no other grasps at the warlord’s heart as she draws away. “He will be violent,” Hadrius utters against the wick of her mouth. “If you can, say my name before he reaches you.”“Okay.”He hears her slamming heartbeat and it cripples him.“Promise me
The Beast's Slave 42
River tears through Hadrius’ home.Her body moves in a dark blur up the stairs, and slams through the first door before she drops onto her knees.Beneath my bed, you will find a backpack.Had he known all this time?Was that why he had been training her?A wildness grows within her; of terror and suffocating panic as she blindly gropes beneath the large bed for the bag. She almost cries in relief as her hand closes on a strap, and giving it a sharp tug, yanks it from beneath the bed.The bag is medium sized and filled to the brim. Her curiosity is smothered by her plight and after rising, River hastily strips.She pulls on random pants Hadrius had made for her - the material breathable and starchy for training - then a shirt, and finally a large sweater. Pulling on her boots, River slings the bag over her shoulder and descends the stairs in a whirlwind while drawing the hood over her head.The evening casts its d
The Beast's Slave 43
The rattling sound of metallic doors creaking open is what draws the Beta’s attention away from the blank, sodden wall.He hears their approaching footsteps, the thumping of wet boots on cemented floors as they pass the numerous empty cells. The Alpha’s dungeon reeks with the stench of aged blood and pungent urine.Hadrius did not mind it for his senses had been repressed and overpowered by the thought of his human upon her departure. She must have escaped the previous night, and not long before the Alpha’s wolves had howled their battle cry and commenced their heated pursuit.Sleep deserted him all the while as he paced about the small confines of his cell, chains dragging behind him like an outspoken shadow. His mind had morphed into a stinging web of hurt, leaving him with nothing more than silent prayers to the Luna Goddess for River’s safety.Daylight is no different in the dungeon for there are no windows, his only companion
The Beast's Slave 44
River wakes to something pressing to her nose, an insistent touch against the tip as she detangles from the webbing of her dreams. It smells sharp and strange, and for a moment, she is revolted by the creature that clings to her and shoves its face against hers.She blinks, staring into a set of white and grey eyes.The man is as still as water against her face, his lips a hair’s breadth away and billowing warm air on her own mouth.“You sleep hideously,” the man remarks as she suddenly reels away in defence and terror.Blankets and sheets are strewn all over as River backs against the wall, her heart thundering and trying to escape the creature just as much as her. Cautiously, she regards the man who sits by the edge of the bed.His eyes remain focused on the indented pillow where she had laid seconds before. “For a moment there,” he starts and casts a long side glance, “I wondered what my brother had found so i
The Beast's Slave 45
River stares vaguely at the bloodied man who stands at the door, his chest rising and falling rapidly, skin sleek with dark colors that trail rivulets down his powerful legs, blooming beneath his bare feet.Seeing him then, gripping a head that falls with a sickening, wet thump onto the floor, surrounded by myriads of dead carcasses— River realizes that Hadrius had never looked more terrifying.He is a horrific creature.And heading straight for her.The shock of his sudden presence renders her speechless and numb, unable to react as his hand shoots out like a viper and grips her wrist that rests on the table, he yanks her from her seat.Hadrius does not wait for her recovery. In one fluid motion, his arm circles her waist and he easily hauls her over his shoulder. He does not spare his brother a second glance, fearful that if he did, he would end him.The warlord does not falter as he strides out into the desolate night, consuming dar
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