Beast of Mine

by Marian Tee

  Beast of Mine

  Marian Tee

  Beast of Mine

  By Marian Tee

  Copyright 2019 by Streak Digital Publishing

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Blurb

  ABOUT THE BOOK

  Glossary

  Once upon a time...

  My Dear Child,

  The Prince

  The Princess

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader,

  Blurb

  Two years ago, werewolf princess Estrella Moretti received a letter from the one and only man she had ever loved. In this letter, Fae prince Lysander Allard asked for her hand in marriage...and for her to keep his kingdom safe while he sought to conquer an ancient beast.

  When Lysander came back, he was no longer man nor Fae. He was something monstrously different, and yet instead of running away in fear or disgust, his young and beautiful wife only looked at him with love in her eyes.

  Estrella was every man's dream come true. It was just too bad that everything was a mistake, and the letter she received...had been intended for someone else.

  Note: This is a steamy standalone paranormal romance / urban fantasy. No cliffhangers!

  ABOUT THE BOOK

  The twins came to their feet as soon as their prince stepped out, and the first thing they sensed was the change in him. The raw energy pulsing within Lysander's body still possessed a dangerously primeval quality to it, but his power no longer felt as volatile or violent. His presence was more Fae than beast...or at least it was for now.

  When their questioning gazes met Lysander's, the prince simply nodded at their unspoken question.

  Yes.

  The two brothers exchanged glances. Since the princess' gasps a few minutes ago were more than enough clue to what the couple had been doing, and then there was also the way they had made the van shake like there was a tornado locked inside it...wasn't Lysander basically saying...he constantly needed to fuck his bride in order to remain, well...calm?

  The twins stared hard at their prince, and when he only raised a brow at them, Aluin could no longer help himself.

  "Seriously?"

  There was a second of silence, and then Lysander's lips cracked a smile. "Seriously."

  The twins grinned back even as both of them were working hard to absorb the changes in their prince. His voice was a lot deeper now and more...guttural. Like a man trying to remember how it was to use words instead of growls and snarls.

  And it had probably been so, knowing what they did of the countless ordeals that Lysander had to suffer and overcome before he could have Ammon under his control.

  The thought of this was more than sobering, and their smiles immediately faded. The prince had sacrificed everything for their race, and in return...

  Lysander's lips pressed together in a tight, thin line when the twins pulled their swords out and bowed their heads as they offered their weapons to him. It was a traditional gesture of apology for Faes, and despite the last few corners of his mind that remained hazy and trapped in the seemingly eternal hell he had spent battling Ammon---

  He knew exactly what transgression the twins were admitting to.

  "We have disobeyed your orders, Your Highness."

  And so they had.

  Lysander's letter, which contained his blood and was meant to be pressed upon the fresh wound of his chosen mate...had not been intended for Estrella.

  Alain and Aluin tensed involuntarily as frozen air stung their skin. A moment later, a wild growl razed their hearing, and they realized that their prince had shifted.

  Lysander began to prowl. In his current form, he might not be able to communicate directly with his men, but he had a clearer mind now, and he was better able to read more from their heartbeats.

  Concern.

  It was what the twins had felt then, doing what they did, even if they had also known disobeying his orders was tantamount to treason. It wasn't everything he needed to know, but it was enough, and as Lysander spun to his back, his tail lashed out, striking both twins' chests with one vicious whip.

  Their chests began to bleed, but the twins only lowered their heads even more.

  "Thank you, Your Highness."

  The punishment meant that they had been forgiven, but if they were to disobey the prince for a second time, death was to be their only option after it.

  Long after the two brothers left, Lysander remained outside the bedroom where his bride slept, silent and brooding. Her orgasm had seemed to work like a leash, with his more animal instincts lying dormant while the more rational side of him rose to the fore. It had allowed him to think, and it was only then that he was able to piece the past and the present together...and realize that he had ended up mated to a woman who was not of his choice.

  She was his Star, but she was also Domenico Moretti's goddamn sister. He wasn't sure if he could ever get past the fact, but just as it had been with the twins, the past was the past, and it was already too late to change things.

  In exchange for the powers he now wielded, the beast held dominion over his soul, and his body wanted what his soul made it want. All his suffering and sacrifices would be for naught...if he did not keep Estrella as his mate.

  Glossary

  Caros - Classification: preter, sub-classification: blood drinker, governing body: Brethren

  Faes and Faeries - Classification: preter, sub-classification: winged, governing body: The High Circle (formerly)

  Lyccans - Classification: preter, sub-classification: shifter, type: wolf, governing body: Lyccan Council

  Panthera - Classification: preter, sub-classification: shifter, type: panther

  Sceleri - Classification: preter, sub-classification: sin eater

  Souris - Classification: preter, sub-classification: winged, type: mortal descendants of angels

  Vampire - Classification: preter, sub-classification: blood drinker, origin: Caros that had taken human lives in exchange for immortality

  Vidange - Classification: preter, sub-classification: winged, type: mortal descendants of angels who chose to turn their backs on God

  Viver - Classification: human, sub-classification: mystical, governing body: Vatican

  Once upon a time...

  There were humans who knew of non-humans.

  They were admittedly few, but what existed was enough. With these humans' help, an alliance was formed, joined by all the known races: the shifter packs, the Caros, the Souris, and of course we, the Viver, stood by them, too.

  When the first vampires were born - ancient twins of the blood-drinking race of Caros - the will of the alliance prevailed. But from their ashes came the most unwelcomed premonition.

  Three strikes, the vampires would inflict against our fragile world, one stronger always than its predece
ssor, and try as we might, not even the most powerful among us were able to overturn this.

  The twins were the first strike.

  The vampire-led carnage of the Great War decades ago was the second, and while the world was saved, many had died, and the ties that once bound allied races were shorn by distrust, despair, and devastation.

  And now, the last and most terrifying battle is upon us, and our hearts weep at how destiny, for reasons known only by the gods, had once again cursed the Faes and Faeries to be its harbinger of doom.

  - An excerpt from the prelude of A Viver's Accounting of History: Volume MDCLXXVI

  My Dear Child,

  I wish I were writing this letter under better circumstances, but alas, recent circumstances have forced my hand, and I am left with no choice but to disturb your repose.

  Over a fortnight ago, my Church had received the most troubling news. The evil that we knew to be coming has finally revealed its name: Danilo Moretti, a werewolf prince once believed to be dead. We had all mourned and revered him for his kindness, and it was only after his return that we realized how gravely mistaken we had been about him.

  He is Sceleri now, and without an ounce of humanity left inside of him, he might as well be the Devil's right hand come to kill us all.Our hunters' reports tell me that even though he has already amassed for himself a great army, he still seeks to have his numbers swell. And he is succeeding, I'm afraid. Fear mongering is his favorite tool of persuasion, and there is no longer any race in this world that has not been compromised.

  While the Lyccans are now united under the prophesied prince Domenico Moretti (who, ironically, is the sin eater's twin brother), not all shifter packs are as fortunate. The Jaguars, in particular, are vulnerable, with no alpha to lead them. And while the Caros have mostly kept to themselves, in-fighting among the members of the Brethren may make it vulnerable to an attack.

  But alas, hardest hit yet again are none other than the Faes and Faeries. Betrayed by their own kind, their race is now without a home and if their plight is not readily addressed, perfidous individuals among them may persuade the last surviving Faes and Faeries to deflect...as a whole.

  Dark times are ahead of us now, and my weary, cynical instincts tell me it shall only grow darker.

  For the sake of the world I know you hold dear, please do heed our call.

  We need you here.

  Yours truly,

  Milton

  The Cardinal of Viver

  The Prince

  The woods that bordered the lands of the Panthera were akin to a dark and dense maze of colossal proportions. But instead of circuituous paths and hedges to befuddle one's senses, there was just the absence of light. Trees towered all around, with crooked, claw-like branches curved towards each other as if to shun the sun and drown the world underneath in a sea of blackness.

  The way Misty spoke of the place, she had made it seem that finding the jinn would be a walk in the park. And maybe it had been, for someone like her who was favored by Lady Luck.

  But for the Fae prince, it was disastrously turning out to be the opposite.

  In his quest to find the one creature that could be the last true hope of his race, Lysander had found himself battling against Nature herself. Thunder and lightning came after him like ravenous hounds unleashed by an unseen deity. Quicksands and sinkholes appeared out of nowhere in a devious attempt to hold him captive, and as if those Herculean challenges were not enough, landslides and earthquakes constanly reshaped the ground he trekked, and with such treacherous silence it was as if they had been specifically devised to trap him.

  By the time Lysander made it to the jinn's dwelling space - just a cave, but at the same time something else, like crawling into the center of a dreamcatcher, Misty had said - the prince was bruised and wounded all over, his strength down to its last, dying embers. It was all he could do to just catch his fucking breath, and when he finally saw her, running towards him on all fours with such speed that she was nothing but a metallic blur---

  I'm fucked.

  But still his hand had gone to grip the handle of his sword.

  If this is how my last fight would go, then so fucking be it.

  A wild-looking creature leapt into the air, and those five seconds in which their gazes locked, it was as if he was staring at something not of this world entirely.

  Five...

  The was bronze all over - her hair, her skin, even her nails.

  Four...

  It made her seem hard and fluid all at once.

  Three...

  Naked but not naked.

  Two...

  Human but not quite.

  One...

  The jinn landed nimbly on her feet, close enough for the bronze strands of her hair to graze his cheek...and draw blood.

  Fuck.

  She leaned back and straightened, and Lysander instinctively tightened his grip on his sword even as he forced himself to stay still as her calculating gaze swept over him from head to toe.

  Moments passed, each one spanning an eternity.

  And then her lips started to crack, into the eeriest version of a smile.

  "Son of the Faes..." The jinn's voice was rusty, her accent unmistakable but indeterminable, like something older than time itself. "Well...done."

  It took a moment for him to understand what those words meant. All of it had been a test, he realized. All those instances back in the forest when it seemed Nature was out to kill him...it had just been the jinn---

  "Wish."

  His gaze snapped back to hers at the word. That was the cue, Misty had told him.

  She would ask you what you wished...

  And maybe that was how it had happened for Misty, but...

  It didn't seem like the jinn was asking a question right now, with the way she was looking at him, circling him. And her movements...alternating between crawling and undulating, like a creature unused to working with human limbs---

  "AMMON."

  The roughly whispered word had Lysander's head jerking up.

  He was right then.

  This creature already knew.

  And almost as if the jinn could hear his thoughts, he saw her head bobbing just as her lips stretched back in another smile that was both ghastly and ethereal.

  "You come for it."

  Lysander slowly nodded back. "I did."

  "Your blood runs from the line of Allards, a family I know to be kind and brave."

  "Yes."

  "Your people have been good to me, and so I say this to you." She lifted a finger, pointing straight to his heart, which almost stopped the moment he heard her voice inside his head.

  The beast you wish to take into you is ancient, its power inextinguishable.

  Once it rises, it will try to tear out of the cage of your soul.

  It will try to devour your body from within.

  You must find a way to tame the beast without breaking its spirit; make it bow to your command before it drives you past the abyss of madness and despair.

  Standing at the edge of the woods were a pair of men, identical in every way save for their eye color. Their rough, good looks, coupled with their deceptively lazy posture, drew attention away from the way their gazes constantly scanned their surroundings, their senses alert for any possibly hostile presence...

  A twig broke under the heavy fall of footsteps.

  ...or the return of their prince.

  The twins lunged into perfectly synchronized motion, Alain and Aluin dropping all pretenses of nonchalance when they saw a badly bruised Lysander coming up to them. For all that their prince was commonly dismissed as nothing but a handsome, exceedingly well-dressed fop, those closest to the Allard heir knew that his elegant countenance and playful charm were nothing but a camouflage. Underneath it all was a lethal and ruthless killer, and so it begged the question---

  "What the fuck happened in there?" Aluin demanded tautly under his breath. Lysander's swordsmanship was unparalleled, and for h
im to come back looking like Hell had chewed him up to pieces...what kind of fucking monster could that jinn be?

  "Doesn't matter what happened," Lysander said, his voice taking on a sardonic tone despite his exhaustion. "The outcome's all that matters..."

  The twins drew their breaths sharply, both of them knowing what the prince's mission was - and what the jinn had to do with it, if she chose to be involved.

  "She agreed..." Alain guessed. "But there's something else, is there?" Because there always was one and always would be, with creatures like jinns.

  Lysander's face turned impassive as memories of the jinn's last words played in his mind like a taunting melody.

  Above all else, you must find a mate to anchor yourself to this world.

  Without a mate, the beast will take over, and you as you know yourself will disappear for all eternity.

  Heed my words or throw your life away.

  It is, in the end, your choice.

  The words hammered the walls of his mind, and Lysander's jaw clenched. If only he had been asked to do this even just a few months ago, then it wouldn't have been a problem at all. Countless women would've fought for the chance to be his bride.

  But now...

  When the prince spoke their names, the two men simply waited in silence. Whatever Lysander commanded, they would obey, their trust in him implicit and as unwavering as it had been from the first day it was forged in blood between three childhood friends.