The Beast In Me Book Novels & Stories

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.

The little shit was fast, but he couldn’t shake me that easily. A metal door of a dumpster clanged shut, but I didn’t need to hear that to know where he was. His heartbeat echoed in my ears, its erratic rhythm a testament to his fear. Yet, he had no idea what fear truly meant. He would understand, soon enough, once I caught him. Then he would face the embodiment of terror.

They might think me delirious. Immediately I had gotten back to the room, I had picked the magic book, trying to find some reason why the beast hadn’t even touched me, but I hadn’t been able to decipher the writings. The being in me hadn’t said anything either, not to the book, or to the encounter. Thinking of it now, I wondered if the being in me had somehow repulsed the beast, had somehow stopped it from touching me. I remembered the gruffy laughter, like we were pals, like I wasn’t something he was supposed to kill at that hour.

She could destroy anything with a single scream of frustration. Walking along the shelves, my fingers run along the books when I see a book that seems to be calling to me. Moving towards it, I pick it up and turn the pages, just scanning the contents when the pages move on their own, stopping on a page. Reading the contents of the page, my beast snarls in my head. “Don’t you fucking dare do this Fen!” I shake my head with a sigh. Closing the book, it opens again to the page I was looking at.

Isobelle I finished getting ready, then took a moment to compose myself. Madame Bennett had awakened thanks to the active werewolf gene. Someone needed to keep those wayward quadruplets in check, and my wolf side wanted to snap at their tails and remind them who she was — who I was. Their mate. Their equal. I twisted the doorknob, peeping through the crack between the wood. Bare bodies scurried past my line of sight in a blur. A distinct sign they heard me approaching. I took two deep breaths before striding out through the bedroom door. The musky essence of arousal filled my airways, feeding my confidence.

That’s when it goes black! I wake up with the strongest headache in the world. Did I drink last night? The brightness of the sun glared in my eyes. As soon as my eyes adjusted, I could see that I was in the forest, but it was different! The forest around me was leveled! There were scorch marks in the ground that looked like big footprints! The footprints looked inhuman. I looked at my hands and saw blood, but it wasn’t my blood! “What the hell?” I asked myself before I spotted Binx, he looked terrified! “Binx… what the hell…” I began to ask but then he let out a hiss, his fur fluffed up. “What the fuck?”

She didn't feel humiliated, because she knew this would happen. To Aztec, Beatrice would always come first, and frankly, Sandra wasn't going to try and come between them. She didn't want to be in her fantasies of a prince charming because as long as she was human and the wolves despised her, there was just no way she would ever get comfortable and claim she was one of them.

"Hardly unarmed, My Dragon." "Time to go home, My Beastly Biker." She smirked up at him, then turning, she walked to the other side of the car to get in. Drake watched, hypnotized, at the sway of her hips. *********************************************************************************************** This is not the end of this story. I have at least one more chapter to do. If you would like to see something in particular, drop me a note on here, a DM, or a note on my profile.

"So, how about you join me for a story? This one's got some... interesting parts." The Beast raised an eyebrow, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder. "Interesting how?" He leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. Belle had a way of drawing him out, making him feel less like a beast and more like a man. She flipped to a chapter she'd bookmarked, one that described a couple lost in the throes of intense attraction. The words on the page painted vivid pictures: lovers entwined in a moonlit room, their breaths mingling, hands exploring with eager tenderness. It was steamy, full of building heat and whispered promises, but far from anything harmful just pure, electric chemistry.

"You shouldn't read that," Mia said. "Your parents said not to." "They said I couldn't read it for class. They didn't say anything about reading it on my own." Technically true. And I needed to understand. Needed to know who this man was. The first chapter was titled "The Monster in the Mirror." *I was a monster. There's no other word for it. When I look back at the man I was—the man who hurt Nova, who shot Kai Storm, who destroyed everything I touched—I don't recognize him. But I have to own him. He was me.*