Gaston X Beast Novels & Stories

I did everything to be a good friend, only to be treated as my so-called best friend’s scapegoat. When her husband found cigarette ash in their house, she claimed I was the one smoking. When she snuck off for a private rendezvous with her lover, she told him she was celebrating my birthday. And when she got pregnant, she pinned the blame on me again, declaring I was consumed with jealousy—that I had spiked her drink and hired someone to violate her. Enraged, her husband marched to my doorstep wielding a blade and hacked me to death. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the exact day she had asked me to cover for her affair.

“Not what you’re used to, Mathin? I warned you.” Mathin simply grunted in response. The stags he was accustomed to had nearly as much intelligence as their riders and volcanic levels of energy and spirit. It took great control, constant dominance and sensitivity to master one, and the Haunt took great pride in their ability to do so. This poor Beast was as insipid as water. Plodding, even. Fallon smirked at Mathin’s disgust and nudged his beast into motion. “Deal with it. It’s not for your sake, after all.”

“Vance. That dog. You let him decide?” I don’t answer. That is the answer. He waves his hand, and a man steps forward, dropping a heavy suitcase at my feet. “Our deal is complete.” I don’t touch it yet. “Not until I inspect the goods.” Carlo grins. “Dante taught you well.”

As they approached the cave, the air grew thick with tension. Brian held up a hand, signaling for silence. "This is it. We move in carefully. No mistakes." The group entered the cave, and their senses heightened. The walls were lined with ancient markings, and the air was cold and damp. They moved deeper, their footsteps echoing off the stone. Suddenly, a roar filled the cavern, and the Beast of Gévaudan emerged from the shadows. It was larger and more terrifying up close, its eyes glowing with an unnatural light.

“I don’t know why. But I’ve served long enough to know that when Gorvane looks at someone the way he looks at you, it means one of two things: destruction, or something worse.” Kaerith’s fingers curled against the fabric of the dress. Her nails scraped the smooth silk. “I don’t want anything from him.” Madame Marita gave a dry smile. “That’s not the point.” She picked a stray curl from Kaerith’s shoulder. “The Beast doesn’t have affection. Not for his court. Not for his mate, Vythea. Not for his whores. And not for you. He takes what he wants, and when he’s done, there’s nothing left of who you were.”

I knew I did. I was drunk, and I slept with a stranger who happened to be King Gabriel LaBête, the Beast King, the man who women feared and wanted all at once. It was a mistake, that was all, so why did my chest feel like it was on fire? Tears ran down my face. I'd deliberated it for so long, and I told myself if ever the conversation of that night was to come up, I'd know what to say. And sitting there with him, saying those words hurt me more than it should have. But why? It wasn't like I had feelings for him. I've only been in the palace for fourteen days, and I don't even know him. Why then was I crying?

The sound died at the sight of a handful of maggots resurfacing and curving downwards as they languorously feasted on the thick muscle of her left ventricle. He threw away the viscera bitterly. Now sitting before the body in the dying light with a forehead furrowed deep enough to pocket a dime, Gerfast considered the ribs with a short stubby liver-spotted finger. Their surface was not as brittle as the rest of the bones in her body. His hand curled around one length tentatively and gave it a gentle squeeze. A relieved sigh escaping him at the feel of it still whole in his palm, he pulled and watched its point of attachment to the decayed spine easily give way.

He looked… cruel, immortal King. My instincts were urging me to run and hide but I couldn’t move from my spot. I was frozen, my eyes were stuck to the beast who was standing a there like he owned the world and everything and every person that existed on it. I couldn’t leave my friend behind. He had never turned his back on me and I was going to do the same, even if it cost me my life. Gideon was family and family was the only thing worth dying. “Aria?” My head snapped to the owner of the voice. My eyes connected with merciless, steel-gray ones. I shuddered at the intensity of his stare.

It gives him a few seconds before the hounds decide attacking is their best move. They might have gained some newfound intelligence, but Beast is smart and has had years of practice. Our eyes carry bloodlust, our bodies made for killing. Beast's claws rake a wide path across one throat and chest. It's not a killing blow, but the hound lists to the side and the other jumps around him. It's almost like he's protecting the hurt creature. Beast lets out a growl that rumbles clear to our feet and charges head-on. We clash and the hound goes to the ground with Beast on top. We grab his neck within our crushing jaws and crunch bone. The other hound lands on top of us, his snapping jaws taking a bit

Vincent instantly trusted his tongue, devouring her mouth mercilessly. His inner beast took control. He wanted to rip her apart. Her tears kept on falling, embracing her cheeks, and he kept on wiping them while caressing her cheek. After a while of satisfying his beast, he broke the passionate kiss, breathing heavily, but his heavy breathing didn't stop him from attacking her delicious neck. She held his biceps as he kept on devouring her against her will. She gasped out when he started to suck her neck harshly. "I only want my marks on you. You're made only for me to touch...you belong to me!"