Beastly Desires

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sébastien sauntered into the castle before dawn broke, feeling stiff and tired. He didn't bother bringing the bed of hay back with him. There wasn't much of it left as he had torn it into shreds during the nightmare that had him howling in the middle of the night. The dream was a warning. He knew in his heart he couldn't have Colette. He knew if he took her she would die and he would live. It happened once before.

The day when that stranger found refuge in his castle. It was a woman. She was alone, scared. Her companion had been mauled to death from the wolves that hunted in the forest. She barely escaped, finding herself at the gates to his castle.

Sébastien heard the event while he walked the gardens and when he scented her a mile away he stood waiting at the gates. She didn't bat an eye as she flung herself through the iron hands just as the wolves appeared on the other side. Sébastien closed the gates immediately, sealing her in.

Once she had regained her composure she saw him for what he was, a beast. She scrambled away from him, frantically searching for a rock to defend herself with.

Sébastien was just as surprised as she was to see him. He hadn't seen another female in years other than Beatrice, who avoided him at all cost other than to wait on him to bark orders.

The woman was simple looking, a little on the thin side but from the looks of her dirty and ragged clothing, she had probably been a peasant.

"S-stay away from me b-beast!" She screamed as he took a step toward her. He had his palms raised and squatted- partly kneeled as he crept towards her with as much gentleness his beastly face could form.

"I won't hurt you. My name is Sébastien. Please, let me help you. You're hurt. Your companion..." he lifted his face towards the sky and sniffed the air. "Your companion is dead. There won't be anything left of him by nighttime. I'm sorry."

The woman let go of the rock and started to cry. Strong wailing sounds came from her. Sébastien closed their distance and carefully scooped her into his arms and carried her into the castle.

Weeks passed by and the woman- Ayra, became accustomed to living with him in the castle. He granted her safety and residence so long as she kept to the castle's ground and did not leave. His secret was the only thing that kept her from disobeying his orders.

He found himself lusting after her every night to the point of wanting to take her during the day. If Ayra was aware of the internal struggle he kept a tight rein on, she did not let on and continued standing close beside him. Leaning against him sometimes while they read in the library. While he read to her, she did not know how to. He promised her that he would hire a tutor for her, but she refused. She said she loved hearing his voice more than her own.

The few days after her confession she visited him in his study that night. He scented her desire as she closed the door behind her. A mixture of emotions ran through her eyes as she sashayed over to him in his chair.

"Ayra." His voice was a soft rumble as he felt himself strain against his trousers.

She smiled sweetly, coming to stand in front of him between his legs. The breath left his throat as she slid her hand down his thigh.

Desire flamed the fire burning inside of him and he was afraid his whole body would catch fire with how hard he tried to hold restraint.

"Say my name again," she purred, leaning down to kiss his temple. Then his snout. His bottom lip.

His voice was a deep quiver as he spoke her name. "Ayra."

She seized him then. Hiking her skirts up and climbing into his lap. She crushed her mouth against his and he let himself go, kissing her back with such ferocity she moaned in sensual pain.

He wanted to run his fingers through her hair but he had his claws sunk into the arms of his chair to keep from hurting her delicate skin.

"Lord Sébastien," she moaned, pressing herself against him, trailing her fingers through his mane.

Fire licked up his spine and he bucked beneath her, wanting to free himself and plunge deep inside her womb. Pure, unfiltered hunger raged through him as he suddenly stood up, braced an arm beneath her bottom and walked them both to the rug that laid across the floor in front of the hearth.

He lowered her down with himself between her legs and ripped her skirts away to reveal her flower bare and waiting for him.

"Ayra." Her name was a guttural sound in his throat as he yielded to her cries of plea. She looked at him with an equal hunger in her own eyes and he wondered if she knew what would happen to her if he took her.

"Please. Please don't stop my lord. I am yours forever and always."

Was it a confession of love or lust that had him ripping away his own trousers and taking her in one swift jerk.

Ayra screamed as he entered her with tremendous force. He could not help himself as he retracted and plunged back in, emitting another scream from her.

Pleasure roiled through his veins as he neared completion. It had been so long since he was inside of a woman.

He looked down between their moving bodies and saw the blood before Ayra escalated into her ecstasy. He rode it out along with her, groaning loudly as he leaned over her slacken body, his breathing hard and heavy.

"Ayra." He whispered against her bare shoulder. She did not move. Did not make a sound.

He braced himself on his arms and looked down at her. Her face was to the side, her eyes wide, empty and mouth ajar. Her chest rose and fell for the last time as death escaped her parted lips and her face turned ashen.

Sébastien climbed off her and lifted her face with his paws. "Ayra? Ayra?" He panted. Remorse flooded through him as he held her limp body in his arms.

"No," he breathed, shaking uncontrollably. "No." He looked down at his arms and at the knife sharp claws. Nothing. Nothing had changed. He was still a beast. For it was not love she had confessed in the end but an unsatiated hunger he knew all too well.

"No!" He roared.