Gaston X Beast Novels & Stories

Aria Vale was lost in thought when something warm and wet brushed her palm. Startled, she looked down—Ghost had just licked her hand. Seeing she didn’t pull away, the giant Tibetan mastiff stepped closer, lifting a paw as if preparing to jump on her again, acting cute to win affection. A sharp command cut through the air. Ghost instantly shrank back with a wounded whimper, lifting his icy blue eyes toward Aria as though tattling on Damian. She nearly laughed. Was this really the terrifying “beast” the maids whispered about?

This creature has used and manipulated Lena’s hunger for revenge and power to get what he wanted. Alden's eyes were fixed on the amulet in Lachlan's hand. He had a look of deep regrets etched on his face and seemed oblivious to the unfolding shift in power dynamics. Lachlan turned around and let out a sinister laugh. “What a glorious triumph. The beast is tamed and the north shall finally reclaim its rightful dominion!” My gaze drifted to Karken and Herb, who were still bound and gagged, their faces masked with anger and fear. Lachlan's warriors echoed his laughter, a guttural sound that made me only intensified my dread.

“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 sun just ringing the eastern sky. “This way, boys.” Gaston lead the way through the front door and waited for us in the entrance. “Isn’t it just grand, Mells; is it alright if I call you that?” Gaston beamed at me, his buoyant personality mixed with the attitude of a shark looking for the faintest bit of blood in the water. “You can call me whatever the hell you want, as long as the next thing you call is a taxi out of here.” I shot back.

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.

His heart was frozen, filled with tar. He was a Beast. And nothing would change him. He was a skilled manipulator. One that made you doubt yourself. More than physical torture, he aimed for mental one. A part of me was worried. Even scared for this man with warm eyes. He looked like he hadn’t faced the darkness of this world. Like he wasn’t tainted with the filth I was sinking deep in. For some reason, I wanted to keep it that way. ***

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

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.

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!"