Sheila Beastars Romane & Geschichten

Chuckling, Elder Sand said, “Indeed, someone chosen by the Lord cannot be ordinary. To think she would breakthrough at this time. What a fascinating specimen.” Indeed, Kylie who was a 1 Star Beastman had broken through and was now a 2 Stars Beastman!

Liam shifted his gaze from one person to the next, trying to gauge their intentions. “Well, well, well,” said the blonde woman, a hint of amusement in her tone. “Look who’s finally decided to join us.” The blonde woman's name was Sheila, also known as the queen of the underworld. She was a ruthless and fearsome mafia boss, she was one of the few women who ran a mafia. "Are you the boss?" Liam asked, stoically. "Yes." Sheila replied in a tone devoid of any emotion, locking eyes with him. "Liam Danvers right?" She asked, maintaining her serious expressions. It was her serious attitude and ruthlessness that made her a feared mafia queen.

“Mak is one of our private investigators.” Mrs. Lewis stands—all six plus feet of her—and walks around the desk while placing her hand out. “Please call me Sheila. We’ve only been married two days, and Brenda enjoys teasing me. It’s wonderful to meet you.” Her voice is manly low. She’s wearing tight black jeans and a gauzy gray blouse unbuttoned to show off a tremendous amount of cleavage. A silver linked belt hangs low on her hips, and she’s wearing flat sling back shoes. Her makeup is over the top, and I’m seriously considering the possibility that she is or was a he. No judgment, it just surprises me.

"Hehe sorry." I turn my attention back to Damian. "She said you are a demon." I step away from him. "But yet you don't act like one. Yes your eyes change color but you don't try to harm anyone or kill them. You haven't stolen any souls either… as far as I know. And your aura isn't dark either like a demon's would be. We're going to need some help with this." I head into my work room and set the herbs down as I grab a piece of paper and an envelope. I dip my feather in the ink and start to write a letter to my close friend's Bella and Casey. Bella is a Psychic Siren and Casey is a Cosmic Warlock. If anyone knows anything about what Damian could be, it's them. I finish up the letter and put it

"You think because you're a beast now I'm afraid of you. Darling, you are still that narrow-minded girl that was easy to kidnap because no one would miss your existence. You are nothing compared to what I am." She spoke about beasts and monsters yet she couldn't see it. That your appearance didn't make you monstrous it was actions and to me, she was the biggest monster I knew. "Well I was wondering who the bitch was we caught last night," Dominque smiled as she walked up to the cell. I could smell wolfsbane coming off her strongly. "Can I be the one to kill her?" "No one is killing her," Liam said and Dominque folded her arms as she waited for him to provide a reason as to why.

"Sister, don't listen to him." I don't know what to do. On one hand, the human side of me really wants to stop but I know I won't win that battle because the unnatural side me, the one with the beast inside of me is in control and it's almost impossible to be me again once Aurora is fully out of her cage. "Heaven that's enough!" In comes Amelia's stern voice. Her voice startles me so much that I immediately let go of Sky. I feel numb and confused as I watch Nikolina rush in to tend to Sky. Why are they here and most importantly, when did they get here?

The ache shot through her body. They wore her a fresh piece of silk; it clung to her hips, her breasts, and her shoulders — not a single male hand touched it. “The Beast doesn’t like his food spoiled,” one of the Woundmaidens muttered under her breath. The others said nothing—they weren’t meant to speak. Another young girl approached, her face gaunt as she carried a small bone comb and a pot of kohl. Without meeting Kaerith’s eyes, she began to work the comb on her hair with steam and water.

Natalia "Out tonight?" Gail, my ride-or-die roommate, purred from the bathroom door of our dorm, giving me those puppy dog eyes she knew I couldn't resist. But resist I must. I was booked tonight, a date of the blind variety, with some faceless guy I'd met online. "Remember? Online guy. Serial killer enthusiast?" I reminded her. Gail’s dark hair was tied up in a bun, ready to hit the town or any frat party on the menu. She pouted, making her green eyes look all sad and shit.

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.

To wait. Her hair was longer now, darker than before, often pulled back in a sleek, controlled style that left no room for chaos. Her clothes were clean lines, muted tones — powerful, not flashy. She walked like a woman who didn’t owe anyone softness. Not anymore. There was a scar just under her collarbone — faint, silvery, nearly hidden — but it was hers. A quiet reminder. A part of her story she no longer flinched at. Just beneath that skin lived every night she didn’t scream, every room she escaped only in her mind.