Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
I knew the moment Madame had left, when everyone was cleared out of the castle. Because I felt an instant, sudden hollowness surrounding me to the point it was almost crushing.
I was used to being alone, what with my father and his provocations that left me at the house. But at least I’d been around creature comforts, things that made me happy, that didn’t make me feel terrified to even breathe.
I’d never been somewhere that was so big or grand or lavish.
I was lost in my thoughts when I heard the first sounds come through the large expanse of the room. At first I wasn’t sure what it was, and I turned to face the entrance of the room.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
My heart started fluttering harder, and I gathered the fall of my dress, tightening my fingers until they ached.
The sound grew closer, and I realized what it was.
Footsteps.
He was coming for me.
I held my breath and took a step back just as the Beast finally made his appearance.
That one step back wasn’t enough for what I was looking at, for how the very instinctual part of me said to escape.
I found myself stumbling back as the Beast—the monster and my new husband—stepped into the dining hall. The rumors of him had been true.
He was utterly terrifying.
Easily three times the size of a human man, with shoulders terrifyingly broad, and a barreled chest that blocked out everything behind him.
His massive biceps and forearms were hairy, but even that couldn’t hide the power in them. And his face… completely inhuman.
He had a wide forehead, pitch-black eyes, and a nose that reminded me of a primal animal. And his legs—God, they appeared to be like a feline, or even of the canine variety, bent oddly and tipped with massive paws.
His hair was dark and fell to his shoulders, only broken up by the huge, arcing horns that curved back and away from his forehead.
And his mouth was full and wide, his teeth sharp, and the lower ones like daggers. My heart thundered as I stared at them which looked more like tusks than teeth, protruding up so that when he closed his mouth, they were still frighteningly visible.
He wore clothing fit for a noble, but it couldn’t hide how animalistic and utterly primal he was.
Nothing could mask how entirely terrifying he was.
He took a step forward, and another one, and I swore I felt the floor vibrate from the force. His legs and feet reminded me of the illustrations from fairy tales about the werewolves that prowled the dark, danger-filled forests, walking on their hind legs. Paws… God, he had black, claw-tipped paws.
His focus was already trained on me. He looked like the very devil himself.
I made sure to keep the table between us, although I knew it was foolish. This was just cloth and wood, glass and steel. It wouldn’t keep a creature like him away from something he wanted, even if right now I felt like this piece of furniture could hold back a demon such as himself.
He didn’t speak and neither did I, my tongue in knots as I watched him come farther into the room, his nails scraping against the wooden floor, seeming deafening in the closed quarters.
He stopped behind the chair at the end of the table, lifting those huge, pawlike hands and curling them around the top. His nails were so long and sharp. Like daggers.
“You are afraid,” his voice rumbled out, and I felt it in every part of my body. “I can smell the sweet sweat on you, hear your breathing pick up.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t.
“No harm shall come to you. That is not why you are here.”
Oh, I knew why I was here. I didn’t think he would hurt me, but sometimes death wasn’t always the worst fate.
He cocked his head to the side slightly as if examining me, as if I were the one so unusual he was having a hard time grasping that he was in my presence.
The movement of his head inclining had his thick hair moving over his shoulder. I could see his slightly pointed ears, watching as they twitched, which caused my heart to beat wildly.
“Woman,” he growled. “I can hear your heart racing. I told you there was nothing to fear from me.” He slowly slid his hands off the back of the chair, his nails scraping the wood ominously before he started walking around the table and closer to me.
This in turn had me moving to the other side, our steps parallel; the only thing stopping him from getting to me was the slab of wood that suddenly seemed wholly inadequate.
He gripped the back of the chair at the head of the table, situated right in front of the fireplace, pulled it out, and sat his heavy form in it.