The Beast In Me Book 소설 & 이야기

The air was thick and cold, every sound amplified in the silence. Suddenly, the book glowed brighter, and Anna stopped in her tracks. “The fourth anchor is here,” she whispered. “Where?” Ryan asked, scanning the shadowy forest. Before Anna could answer, a deafening roar shook the ground. From the darkness emerged a massive beast, its body covered in black scales that shimmered like oil. Its glowing red eyes locked onto the group, and its claws dug deep into the earth. “Spread out!” Logan shouted, drawing his blade. The beast lunged, its massive jaws snapping inches from Mia, who screamed and dove to the side. She hit the ground hard, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Her shiny and beautiful eyes lock on mine, and suddenly, I feel bad for losing my temper. "I'm asking because you remind me of one," she replies without stammering; she even keeps our eye contact. "Or maybe you're a big, scary dog? You bark and growl like this vicious beast, but on the inside, I don't think even you want to be truly left alone."

The Beast's eyes blazed with a fierce intensity, its gaze burning into my soul like a branding iron. I screamed, but my voice was drowned out by the Beast's deafening roar, a sound that shook the very foundations of the room. Its jaws opened wide, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth, ready to deliver the final blow. I closed my eyes, waiting for the end, but it never came. Instead, the Beast's grip on my shoulders tightened, its claws digging deeper into my skin. I opened my eyes to find the Beast's face inches from mine, its eyes blazing with a fierce hunger. Its hot breath washed over me, making my skin crawl. …

The slap hit like thunder through the hallway. My face stung, like a spit at the beast in me. "You don’t get to talk to me like that," she hissed. My breathing rose, getting out of control, my vision blurred, heat boiling up from my insides, bringing a gasp out of me. And then I felt it–her. The other me or whatever it is. The beast, that's what I called it. She flared up like a burning fire from under my skin. My fingers lengthened into claws, my shoulders cracked, my bones shifted subtly.

Let them fear me. Inside my room, I turned the faucet on, letting the water run until it steamed. The blood swirled down the drain as I scrubbed my hands, though the stain of what I had done lingered in my mind. I splashed water on my face, letting it cool the fire still burning in my veins. My reflection in the mirror stared back at me, my eyes still faintly glowing red. I took a deep breath, willing the Beast to retreat. For her sake, I needed to be calm and under control.

And in the center— The third flame. It didn’t flicker like the first. It didn’t whisper like the second. It roared. Twisting and writhing, forming claws, wings, eyes. It hovered over a black dais, thrumming with the sound of something alive and unchained. It didn’t burn the air—it devoured it. Jorrin drew back, breath unsteady. “That’s not a flame. That’s a beast.” Ezra stepped forward, eyes wide, sweat breaking down his back. “It’s both.”

He asked innocently. “Well, yeah.” I blew out a breath. “Thought you heard me walk up to you. It's quiet in here and feet echo.” He shrugged. He was right. I should have heard him walk up if I weren't so lost in thought. “Yeah, I was just um...too engrossed in this I guess.” “In Hot vampire bods?” He snorted at a book cover with a male model in a very interesting pose. “I don't really like vampires. I prefer werewolves.” I smiled, pointing to one with a black wolf staring out with red eyes.

He inhaled deeply, drawing the mountain air and the lingering trace of scent into his lungs. He smelled the scorched wood from my First Moon flare. And he smelled Kieran. The silver in his eyes didn't just burn... it turned murderous. "He touched you," Caspian whispered. The voice didn't belong to a man. It was the low, vibrating growl of the Beast, vibrating through the floorboards. "You ran from my bed, out of my territory, straight into the camp of the male who sold you. And you let him put his hands on you?"

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.

His speech and articulation had been very advanced for a four-year-old, but after pouting and frowning, he finally looked his age. “But running away won’t solve the problem. She’ll still tattle to your mom,” Ed said. He didn’t know who Rosemore was, but he followed the conversation. AJ smacked his forehead. “You’re right!” Reluctantly, he grabbed his bag. “What’s your name, mister?” AJ asked. Curious before they parted. “Just call me Beast.” Ed pointed to the scar on his face. AJ laughed. “You’re not as bad as the beast,” he said.