Beast: The Untold Legend

by Shoshanna Evers

  It would be better to conserve her strength for what lay ahead. She may have to fight for her very life, should the beast choose to eat her.

  The thought made her shudder.

  But the beast was able to speak—unless she had been hallucinating that bit as well. If he truly did speak, then maybe he could be reasoned with. Any ransom he desired, she could provide it.

  What if he desires…something else?

  No. She couldn’t think like that. The idea of being used by a monster like the one who held her captive now made her breath short, her pulse race. His display of strength and agility so far made it clear she’d never be able to outrun him, or fight him. Under his control, she’d been rendered completely helpless.

  Being a princess would mean nothing out here, deep in the forest. Any privilege she thought she’d had was stripped away when she was alone with someone who didn’t give a damn about her title.

  Just like with her handsome stablehand—Victor Gerard. Once he’d known she wasn’t going to tattle on him—and how could she, if it would only serve to get a rightfully angry, abused young man even more punishment?—he had shown her who would be in charge behind closed doors.

  No one had ever dared treat her that way before. And God help her, she liked it. It aroused a feeling of fear that skated the edge of desire… to be taken in hand the way he did, touching her with impunity as if she belonged to him, holding her under his control.

  Her breath quickened. What was wrong with her?

  And just like with Victor, the beast had her alone to do whatever he wished.

  The beast had taken her so far away from the kingdom that the guards would never find her, even if they continued to pursue them. By running down streams wherever he could, the beast had effectively covered their tracks.

  Finally, after countless miles of running through the dense forest that surrounded the kingdom, the beast stopped.

  Thank God.

  He plucked her off his shoulder and set her down on the pine-needle and moss-covered ground. Her relief was quickly replaced by fear. What would he do to her now?

  Her legs were so shaky from having tensed her muscles in terror the whole time he’d been absconding with her that her knees buckled, and she fell on the ground in an inglorious heap.

  “Beast,” she said, trying to steady the tremble in her voice. “I have no quarrel with you, sir. Please don’t hurt me.”

  To her surprise, the beast dropped down on all fours to be closer to her, and shook his massive head. A lock from his dark mane fell over his blue-gray eyes, and Justine paused. It made no sense for him to remind her of…Victor.

  Maybe it was just that feeling they inspired in her that drew the comparison in her mind. That feeling she got when she stood on the edge of a cliff and stared down, and wondered what it would feel like to jump if only she had wings to keep her from crashing. Staring at the beast now, he felt like both the cliff…and the wings.

  “I had no choice but to take you, Princess,” he said, his voice gravelly and deep. “Do not run from me.”

  The cadence of his low voice sounded familiar, but that didn’t make sense.

  “You’re not real,” Justine said. “I fainted at my wedding and hit my head; I’m sure of it.”

  The beast loomed over her, covering her with his body, so there would be no escape. “I am real.”

  “Please, do not harm me, Beast, I beg you.”

  “I will not harm you,” he said. “Look at me, Princess. You know me.”

  No. This wasn’t real. “You are a figment of my imagination. There is no beast like you in nature.”

  His face was millimeters from her own. He pressed his cheek to hers, his rough whiskers prickling her own delicate skin.

  Goosebumps raised along her arms. If it were a dream, would she be feeling that?

  “I am real,” he growled. “But you are right about one thing, Princess. I am not natural.”

  “Please wake up,” she shouted, hoping it would jolt her out of her nightmare.

  With a dangerous smile that bared his fangs, the beast gripped her arm. “This is no dream. Shall I pinch you, and prove it?”

  “Yes,” she said, with a boldness she didn’t feel. This nightmare was going on too long—

  The beast raised one thick eyebrow…though the eyebrow blended in on his face, which was covered in smooth short hairs that did nothing to hide his strong jaw and high cheekbones.

  He picked her up off the ground, his large hands so human if not for the claws that adorned them. Yet they weren’t paws. He definitely had fingers, holding her firmly under her buttocks. Each one sent a line of heat through her chilled flesh.

  The claws that had torn her gown earlier didn’t touch her now. Had he…retracted them? Like a cat?

  With a groan that sounded too much like raw satisfaction for her sensibilities, he pinched a handful of the flesh on her bottom.

  The jolt of pain made her yelp in surprise. Pinches in a dream shouldn’t hurt.

  He dropped his mouth to her neck, his whiskers scratching her delicate skin, and nibbled her ear. It didn’t hurt, despite his sharp fangs. He wasn’t tasting her…he was toying with her.

  His tongue was soft sandpaper against her fragile skin, like a cat tongue. It tickled and made her restless, unable to keep still his arms.

  He pulled away from her ear to stare into her eyes. She couldn’t look away as he growled softly and pinched each handful of her ass cheeks again, holding her flesh hostage even as she squirmed against him.

  This is not a dream.

  “Stop!” she gasped, struggling to be free of his iron grip.

  Her attempts to move her bottom away from his hands only served to press her mound against torso. Quick as could be, the beast adjusted one hand to grab the junction of her thighs, forcing a moan from her mouth.

  “Am I real to you now, Justine?”

  He knew her name. He used her name as if he knew her.

  “Yes,” she gasped, the lingering ache making it all too clear. “You are real. Please, unhand me.”

  “You shall stay with me, for your own safety.” He gestured to the woods around them. “Do not attempt to escape— there are wolves and mountain lions in the forest that will eat you.”

  “I’d rather take my chances with a possibility of being eaten than stay here with you and definitely be eaten.”

  The look he gave her was nothing short of disgust. “I will not eat you.”

  Could she believe a beast who had just kidnapped her, and shredded her wedding dress in the process?

  “Then what do you want with me?” she asked.

  ****

  That was exactly what Victor had asked the queen the night she found him sleeping in the stable when he was only eighteen. Thoughts of what he himself had been subjected to when the queen first kidnapped him flew through his mind, but he pushed the vision aside.

  “I can give you anything, if you set me free,” the princess said. She took a trembling breath and glanced away from him. “Gold…anything.”

  He had to stop looking at the girl with lust. Justine was frightened enough as it was, but he wasn’t like his mistress. He would never harm her. He would never force the princess to do things that made her feel ashamed to be alive.

  But something about being changed into a beast had brought out the animal in him. It was harder to control his primal urges than in his human form. Still, he must.

  If he could take care of her now, maybe it would help balance out some of the evil the queen had done to them both.

  “I am saving you, Princess,” he said finally. “I don’t want your gold. You are in danger. The queen will have you dead.”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Do you understand? If you go back to the castle, you will die. You must stay here with me— at least until I can find a way to get you out of the country.”

  “I have no home,” she said. “I was sent away to come here during the peasant uprising—right
after my father’s death. The king. Where am I to go that I won’t be hunted down?”

  The expression on her face made his soul twist with sympathy. She didn’t even know the worst part—that the queen wanted him to be the one to kill her.

  It wasn’t part of the queen’s plan to let her survive, so he’d have to figure out on his own where to abandon her.

  “I will take you somewhere you won’t be found,” he said.

  “I am not yours to take.”

  “It is not your choice, Justine. The choice has been made for you.” With a heavy sigh, he picked up her resistant body, pulling her against his chest.

  She cried out and beat at him with her tiny fists, which bounced off of his thick muscles as if she were a kitten instead of a strong woman. But she was only hurting herself; he could see it in her reddened hands and angry, tear-stained face.

  “Do you want me to restrain you, Princess, so you don’t harm yourself?” he asked. “Maybe that would be easier on you, so you won’t feel responsible for trying to get away.”

  Her fist came down one last time, weakly, and he took her wrist in his grip. She cried out, but it was better for her to cry in frustration than from a broken hand, if she didn’t have one already.

  The once-white gown she wore was in sorry shape, dirty from the forest and torn in places from his claws. He ripped a length off the bottom and used it to tie her hands in front of her waist, for comfort. Victor had been tied up enough times to know which positions were the easiest to handle for long periods.

  Though she hadn’t kicked at him since he’d carried her through the forest, he tore more of her dress to hobble her ankles. She’d still be able to walk slowly on her own, but kicking or running away was now out of the question.

  “Danger lies all around us, in every direction,” he said. “But I will keep you safe, Justine.”

  Her beautiful face, streaked with dirt from the forest, looked up at him with such fear. Her lower lip trembled, and Victor couldn’t resist bringing his mouth onto hers.

  A kiss to soothe her, a kiss to soothe himself.

  At first, she simply accepted it, but then, tentatively— she kissed him back. With his eyes closed, he was a man again, finally tasting Justine’s sweet lips, and she, his. All was quiet in the woods, with only the sound of their mouths gently touching.

  His rough new tongue rasped against her soft one, and yet she didn’t recoil at the unusual sensation. She moaned softly, lifting her face up to his, her swollen lips parted in invitation for more.

  Victor broke the kiss, pulling his head back, and stared at her in surprise. Had she meant to kiss him? How could she look past his beastly form…or worse, the fact that he was her captor? How could she forget?

  Her breath hitched, and she started to sob. Large, heaving sobs that wracked her delicate body in his arms. No, she hadn’t forgotten.

  “Do not fear this beast,” he murmured.

  Justine tucked her head against his chest, and, with no choice but to take the small comfort of his promise, let him embrace her.

  ****

  Chapter 4

  The Queen’s Promise

  No animal other than humans shed tears of emotion. But the Beast’s heart hurt, and Justine’s pain became his own. Although his body was a wild amalgamation of beasts, his soul and mind still belonged to Victor Gerard. A single tear rimmed his lower lashes as the girl took comfort in his embrace.

  Suddenly, a rustle in the trees caught his attention.

  “Quiet,” he ordered, and the poor girl held her breath, looking around in fear.

  The queen appeared before them, still dressed in her fine gown from the wedding. “Why is she NOT DEAD YET?”

  Justine cried out and shrunk into his arms, as if trying to disappear.

  “I gave you very clear orders, Beast.” The queen smiled cruelly. “It’s almost as if you wish for punishment. Perhaps you enjoy it as much as I enjoy delivering it.”

  “Your Majesty,” Victor said, struggling to control his emotions. “There is no need for her to die. She will never return to the kingdom. Take the prince as your own—she doesn’t want him anyway.”

  “I do not need your permission.” The queen’s upper lip curled in contempt. “You forget who you speak to.”

  With an outstretched arm, she glared at him.

  “Please don’t,” he said softly.

  The air always tingled around him in the moment before her magic hit him—the same charge filled the air before lightning struck—just as it tingled now. An enchantment to punish him for his insolence. All he could hope for was that his mistress left the princess out of it.

  Suddenly, his muscles contracted all over, his body tightening around Justine’s petite form. The intense muscle cramps he often got from exercising the horses (or being left chained in untenable positions) paled in comparison to this spell. Every muscle tightened and spasmed.

  Justine struggled as his embrace trapped her, his strength controlled by the enchantress alone. What if the princess suffocated in his arms?

  “Your Majesty,” he said, the words barely able to escape his lips. “Please, Mistress, I beg you.”

  “You forget your place.” Her expression was cold, unforgiving.

  “You…own me,” he whispered. The princess’s heart beat frantically beneath his heavy arm across her chest. “I am your slave to use. I won’t forget again.”

  His muscles relaxed at the same time the queen’s expression did. Justine took a gasping breath and trembled against him, but made no move to flee. There was nowhere for her to go.

  “I suppose I can’t have you strangle her,” the queen said. “That’s not what beasts do, now is it?” She laughed, but then her voice hardened. “Tear our dear princess to pieces, Beast. We’ll scatter them about for the wolves to feast on.”

  The order from the queen’s lips hit him like a mountain lion taking down prey. Even though he’d known it was coming, it still hung in the air between them, heavy and final. That the moment would come when he would have to finally, after all these years, take a stand against the queen…and refuse.

  It was harder to refuse her immediately after enduring her painful discipline. Discipline that reminded him that she was in charge—that she’d been in charge of his every move from the moment he woke up covered in hay in the stable on his eighteenth birthday. The queen was clearly manipulating him, using the submissive response she extracted from him during punishments to her advantage.

  His submission to the queen had never been in his heart. In every dark corner of his soul, he yearned to take back the control she stole from him. Victor was not meant to live as a slave.

  Today his Mistress would learn that. He would not obey this order. Not this one, he couldn’t. He’d rather die than kill the princess with his own hands.

  A slave that does not obey his Mistress is no slave at all. He was worth nothing to the queen if he wasn’t under her control. At least he’d gotten to kiss Justine before the queen would destroy him.

  The moment of his own death was upon him. He’d been awaiting it for seven long years.

  No…she wouldn’t be kind enough to let Victor die. Living like this—as a beast, as her caged pet—would be his lifelong sentence. An image flashed through his mind of when she’d turned him into this monster, and had taken hold of his cock. A shiver ran down his spine. He didn’t want to be her pet beast.

  It didn’t matter. His life was over now, no matter which way the wind blew, but Princess Justine still had a chance to be free, to be happy. No matter what the queen did to him, Victor resolved to refuse her execution orders.

  In his arms, Justine had her eyes shut, her brows knit together in fear. Her head nestled against his torso, her long black hair curling against his abs, outlining them in stark relief.

  The princess opened her warm brown eyes and looked up at him, striking a chord of territorial instinct in him. It was his duty to protect this girl.

  “Don’t look at her
face,” the queen said. She spoke quietly now, urgently, as if she could tell that Victor had a war going on inside his mind. “Looking only makes it harder. See her for what she is— a piece of meat. Prey.”

  Prey. The girl did look like prey. So helpless. And so beautiful. The thought shouldn’t ignite a spark of arousal within him, but he’d never had power before.

  He did now.

  “You are a beast, Victor,” the queen said. “You can tear her apart and she will do nothing to stop you. She’s yours for the taking, Beast. Do it now.”

  The trees around them rustled in the wind, a storm of the queen’s own making. Leaves rained down in a shower of her anger.

  He’d never said no to the queen before. No one said no to the queen. She’d tortured him for much less. The indignities he would be forced to suffer for saying “no” frightened him—he couldn’t deny that. She’d trained him so well to fear her wrath. It was ingrained in his psyche.

  The queen would kill the princess with magic if he didn’t end her life himself. It would lead back to the queen, most likely, as the only known enchantress in the kingdom—or she could find another man to do her dirty work. A big project, and one with an uncertain outcome. There was no one else who knew and had submitted to the queen’s basest desires like Victor had. He had been her best shot at having a beast on a leash.

  But the queen had failed in that. He would not be leashed, not for this.

  “I ordered you to kill her,” the queen said, snapping him back to attention. “Do it now, before I lose my patience.”

  “Everyone at the wedding saw a terrible beast kidnap the princess,” Victor said, his voice low and steady. “She’s a meal for that predator. The beast ate her up, leaving no trace behind. Turn me back into a human and I will back up the story.”

  Justine struggled in his arms and he looked down at her, only to see her staring up at him in surprise and confusion.

  “Don’t struggle, Princess,” he murmured.

  “You were a human?” she whispered, so softly that only he could hear.