King of Beasts

Chapter 9

There was fury like nothing he’d felt before burning through Gabe’s limbs.  Just the sight, the mere thought, of that rogue touching what was his made him want to kill.  To kill the rogue, to kill anyone who ever touched his Charlotte.

He shifted as he came to a halt at the base of the tree, standing tall and breathing deeply.  His Charlotte was twenty feet in the air, dangling, her eyes wide and staring from Gabe to the man holding her.  “Release her.” Gabe growled, the beast in him writhing to climb the tree and tear that limb from the rogue.  “NOW!”

The authority in his voice had every wolf within ten miles trembling and falling to their knees in submission.  The rogue was no exception.  Whimpering like a wounded animal he immediately released Charlotte and she fell.  A scream seemed to lodge itself into her throat and she crashed through the last branches, plummeting to the forest floor.

Gabe caught her easily, making sure her ankle and arm were undamaged.  He pulled her as close to him as he could manage.  She was trembling, his little, always fierce Charlotte was trembling.  What number had the rogue done to her to make her not even fight against Gab, even when he held her so close?

“I’m going to put you down.” Gabe said quietly, trying to contain his voice so it was soothing, so he wouldn’t startle Charlotte further.  She tensed in his arms for a moment, hands gripping his biceps like she wasn’t going to let go before she thought better of it and released him.

He set her down at the base of an opposite tree and then faced the rogue as he descended rapidly, trying to flee before the king of beasts could stop him.  “Cepheus.” Gabe snarled, and the rogue flinched as though the man had hit him.  “I thought I told you to get off of my land.”

The rogue nodded rapidly, quickly, head bent, naked body heaving with vicious breaths.  “I did, I did, I did.  I smelled girly though.  She smells good.”

Gabriel snarled and advanced on the poor rogue.  Charlotte was his.  Charlotte belonged to him.  Not this piece of filth, not anyone else.

The rogue trembled but there was no escape.  Not from the king of beasts, not when that animalistic side of him had taken control and he wanted death.  The rogue knew it was best to stand still, and wait. 

“Gabe.” Her small voice was tight, and nervous, and spoke through the murder fog in his head only the way she could.  She called right to the center of him, right to that piece only she owned, had him stopping in his tracks and turning to her.  Something in his gaze must have been feral because his little mate was flinching back from him.

She swallowed, gained some resolve, and met his ferocious gaze.  “Don’t.  Please.  I want to go back.”

Don’t kill the rogue? 

There were plenty of things Gabe would do for his mate, plenty of things he’d let her ask him.  This was not one of them.  Cepheus had touched her, planned to defile her, planned to kill her or take her away or- well hell, it didn’t matter.  He had to die.

Gabe snarled and turned back to the rogue, pacing closer, fingers twitching and elongating into claws for the swift kill.  “Gabriel.” His shoulders rode up to his ears and he stood still, feet from the trembling, submissive rogue.  Like he was fighting through cement he turned his head back to look at Charlotte.  “I will never look at you the same if you do this.  I want to go back.”

She found a weak spot, again.  Wounded, his beast whimpering, Gabe was hopeless.  Now he couldn’t kill the rogue, not like he needed to, wanted to.  His little mate ensured that.  She was scared though.  She was curled up against the tree, hugging her knees in the dark and cold, eyes wide and green and terrified and looking at Gabe like she thought he was everything.

Damn it.

He turned back to the rogue and snarled, the sound ripping from his throat and making the other beast whimper.  “You will leave.” Gabe commanded.  He could feel the power dripping from his voice, settling into the soil so even the trees fought their roots to run.  “You will never come back.  If you do, I will kill you.  Not even my mate will stop that.  Leave!”

And he did, scampering away into the night, shifting when he was clear of sight and running wild.  Gabe turned back to Charlotte when he was sure the malice was cleared from his thoughts.  She didn’t flinch when he approached her, but she did look away.  He assumed it was because he was naked, and the humans were always more clothed than him and his beasts. 

He crouched beside her, unable to stop himself from running his fingers over her soft, pale cheek, to feel her and know she was here and she was his.  She didn’t flinch from his touch, either, not until his fingers lingered a moment too long and she pulled away from him.

She hadn’t flinched, though, and Gabe would take that as a win.

“Let’s go back.” He said, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet.  “I’ll carry you—“

“I can walk.” She cut him off, limping in front of him.  He grabbed onto her hand, and before she could protest he turned her in the right direction and let her and her wounded pride limp onwards.  “And you can’t kiss me like you did earlier.  Or touch me like that either.  I- I won’t allow it.”

Even he could hear the uncertainty in her voice and he allowed himself to smile quietly as he followed her from behind.  “I will not kiss you like that our touch you like that again.” He assured her, and watched her shoulders sag in relief.  “Not until you want me to.”

He could see the way her irritation spiked, but something about knowing exactly what to say to make her react a certain way was thrilling to him.  He was figuring his Charlotte out, piece by hidden piece, and it was exhilarating.