Beastars Melon Novels & Stories

With a scary look on his face, that man was gazing at Beast. Beast ordered a table and put his hand on it. In a nick of time, the colour of the light bulb turned red and Beast turned into a butcher, who was separating every single finger from his hand. The man was screaming in pain. But Beast was standing in a relaxed posture doing his work. Similarly, he also separated the fingers from his other hand. Now it was the turn of his feet.

“And I have no use for you anymore.” Rheas eyes widened with horror. Melody’s fangs elongated. Razor sharp, glowing faintly green. “Master—please—“ Rhea tried to scramble backwards, but she didn’t get far. The earth answered Melody’s call. Vines, blackened and pulsing like veins, shot form the soil. The wrapped around Rheas ankles. Then her wrists. Then her waist. She screamed as they yanked her immobilized. “Please! Please! I beg you—give me anot—“

" The Beast God's voice rang out with immense authority. We looked down at our feet. Below us stretched a dense primeval forest, the continent where the beastmen made their home. When we first fell onto this continent in our previous life, both my sister, Lydia Miller, and I had fear written deep in our eyes. The howling of wild beasts announced the law of the jungle that ruled this place. So, Lydia chose the beast woman identity without hesitation. "A beast-eared woman has its own kind of charm," she said. After making her choice, she looked at me smugly, imagining how adorable she'd look. The Beast God told us that on this beastman continent, females were extremely rare. A single female co

“If he dies, we take another cub. If he lives, he becomes my chosen weapon.” Rattle’s eyes widen as he watches me. “He becomes my Ultra Vampire,” I whisper. “An abomination. An ultra hybrid of werewolf and vampire.” The baby doesn’t cry as Rattle’s fangs finally sink into his skin, as blood wells and flows out. Why should he cry? He’s being glamoured.

She succumbs and even holds onto me but that doesn't satisfy Aurora, who hasn't been able to feed in centuries. Even though Cassandra is willingly offering herself to me, it's not enough for the beast inside of me. I firmly hold Cassandra's head so that she has no chance of escaping me. I know this isn't for my benefit or satisfaction but I can't help but enjoy the euphoric feeling that comes with satisfying the soul of my dear friend, Aurora. It's somewhat addictive and I feel as though a deep neglected need inside of me is finally receiving the treatment it deserves. "Heaven." I hear Amelia's voice but the thing is, right now, I'm not exactly Heaven. "I think you have had enough."

I felt weak and so hungry, Drake look at me one last time before leaving, I wondered what happened. "C'o on it lunch time" Beast smirked at me settling me unto his lap. His erection were pressed against me making feel uncomfortable, I try to move away from it causing it to stir more, I froze stilling my movement at once. Beast feed me the food first then the fruits,forcing the grapes into my mouth, I moan and suck on his fingers trying to get more of the juice. Whatever he had injected in me was no doubt working as I fought for more grapes,whining and sucking of the left juices on his fingers.

Light blue, like his eyes had been. Andrew's smile spread his lips as he stepped away from the newly turned vampire, his eyes roaming his body, then his fangs. Ian was no small boy, and since he hadn't been able to bring any of the real vampires, he would take a diluted blood. "Now, Ian. You belong to me."

He answered. His words made total sense. As simple as he looked, he was wise and very accurate with his intuitions. "So what's your decision father. We both know that when you cross the damn river there is no point of return." I reminded him. "Damon, That Beast is searching for a breeder. A bond and mate. If luckily Hera proves herself worthy and its instinct is drawn fully to her, it won't harm her. I don't want to think the worst that's why I still have a ray of hope that she is still alive and being kept well." He answered.

I woke up from the sound of my stomach growling, without a word; I stood up from lying on my bed; my face was a little hurt from the incident earlier when I saw my reflection, a big purple bruise. I sighed and held my cheek, and started to heal myself. My mom and dad were fascinated with my gift for healing, but it wasn't extravagant; like the doctors from our tribe, I could heal simple wounds or, like mine—Bruises.

Of course Christopher Henry Jameson—also known as Beast- wasn't the average man. He stood 6'5" and weighed three hundred and two pounds. He didn't like the extra three pounds. He rather liked being in the two hundred weight range even if it was by just one or two pounds. Regardless, there wasn't an ounce of fat on his perfect body. Beast was muscles on top of muscles, yet not hulking like some of the others that worked in the Marine Corps division assigned to The Department of Home Land Security, or better known as DHS. Too big made you slow. He'd seen guys bigger than him hospitalized during the CRUCIBLE training.