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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
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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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Sleep deserts the warlord as he lies in absolute darkness. It is not due to an excess of energy, for he is more than exhausted after the massacring of soldiers and hellhounds in Lycan form.His body feels raw and rough, muscles aching from the sudden shift, wounds still gaping as his body’s recovery rate had declined significantly after undergoing the brutal sanction. It took all the strength he had to track his mate down, yet the warlord still could not bring himself to sleep.To Hadrius, sleeping under the same roof as Cain was similar to being crucified beneath the glaring sun, having a crow torment at his peeling skin, picking at his flesh and innards.It is painful.Unbearably so.And the emotion rips anger through the warlord. His first instinct was River, but now that she lies in deep slumber by his ribcage, partially drooling on his skin, Hadrius finds his mind edging towards Cain.His brother had left the house around three ho
The Beast's Slave 47
River 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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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
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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
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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
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“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
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