The Beast Queen

by Felicity Partington

  “I gave my word that I would. I don’t go back on my word.” Isabelle regarded him sincerely, there was none of her usual defiance.

  “You best not.” His warning was flat.

  “I won’t. But... how did you even hear that?” She asked, "You were so far away I could barely see you."

  “I hear a lot more than you’d think.” He answered honestly, Isabelle shifted her weight and her cloak parted. Before adjusting her position, she watched Erik. It was a glance, a mere flash of his eyes from her face to her legs, but it was enough. Isabelle stretched her legs out in front of her, free from beneath her cloak, calm enough that it looked casual and unintentional.

  She shouldn’t be so very surprised he could hear so well, he was an animal. It made sense that his body worked differently. His biology would be altered, most predators had a keen sense of hearing. Her eyes drifted over the dark shape in the chair, trying to pinpoint more about him. Whatever else he was, there was a lot of human in him, he loped on four legs, but she had seen him stand on two. The way he lounged in the chair indicated that he had to be able to walk some way on them. They were thinner than his arms, but they bent at the same place where her knee would. All in all, it was hard to tell what weight they could withstand for any decent period of time. His arms were nothing like his legs, they were enormous and bulky, there was more muscle on his biceps than she had imagined possible. Even Gauge, the broadest man she had ever met, would look scrawny and insignificant next to Erik. The muscles continued up to his shoulders, even through the thick fur, it was easy to see how strong he was.

  Isabelle shifted forwards in her seat, her nightgown pulling up at the back and becoming tight and altogether too revealing over the very top of her thighs. Only her cloak hid her modesty now and this she disturbed by fiddling with the edging at her chest, whilst watching him deliberately not watch her. His eyes were fixed determinedly on the fire, if he wasn’t sitting so much more rigidly than before, she might have mistaken his not looking at her for disinterest.

  Isabelle pursed her lips for a moment.

  “It’s so cold!” She proclaimed, moving from her chair and towards the fire. Erik’s eyes snapped to her warily, but Isabelle didn’t even look at him as she knelt on the rug between him and the weakening flames. She wondered if he noticed the strangeness of the situation, human on the floor, animal in the chair. Then again, what she found a strange distortion, was for him already everyday life. Her cloak had fallen open now, and though she was cold, and instinct told her to draw it around herself, she fought against it and let it hang at her sides. If her suspicion was right, if he was attracted to her, then at the very least she had a way to keep him around.

  “Perhaps if you dressed appropriately, the cold would be less problematic.” He snapped, Isabelle hid a grin, she was getting to him. He shifted in his chair, clawed fingers running along his lips pensively. From the floor, looking up at him, he looked even larger than he had seemed on that first day.

  “I couldn’t sleep.” She explained with a shrug, looking up at him through dark, thick lashes, “besides, you’re always half-naked. Hardly one to talk about propriety.”

  “Clothes get ruined, I spend too much time outside. And they’re hot and uncomfortable.” His gaze was on her fully now, she thrilled with the power.

  “Maybe I should take a leaf from your book and wear less?” She asked, smirking. Erik’s eyes narrowed.

  “I have fur. You would freeze.”

  “I’d just have to find other ways to keep warm.” None of her inner hesitation showed outwardly, Isabelle was deftly equipped at letting her mouth run away with her and ignoring potential consequences. Her body language and her choice of words, a mere instinct by now, she had learnt a long time ago that men responded to sensuality. Experience had taught her that there was a delicate line to tread, push too far and they’d run, there was an art to seduction. You couldn’t break the illusion they were in charge. Seduction, like most things, was a power-play, submission the ultimate prize. Isabelle toed the line continuously, but never let herself cross it.

  “It’s behaviour like this that landed you here in the first place.” Erik scolded, his eyes were quite deliberately on her face now and Isabelle frowned. “Your father told me all about your…” he paused, she could tell he was picking his word carefully, his tone was scathing, “reputation.”

  “Did he now?” Isabelle arched an eyebrow, she dropped her gaze, letting her eyes focus on the obscene neckline of her gown, “well I didn’t bring this from home. One presumes, since it was in my room, you wanted me to wear it.”

  It was at that moment she decided she was playing this all wrong. She was treating Erik like a man, but he was not one. When he had been human, he had been a child. He had grown and matured as a beast, for who knew how many centuries. This enormous, powerful, arrogant monster feared her. He feared his own feelings, his own desires as if he had never experienced anything like this before. “Surely I’m not the first girl you’ve kidnapped?” There was a fleeting flicker in Erik’s eyes as he looked away and Isabelle’s mouth opened in surprise, “I am? Why? Why me?”

  “I have no interest in the outside world. I made the agreement with your father because your being here seemed like a better choice than having a crazy old man wandering around my castle.”

  “My father’s not crazy.” Isabelle snapped defensively, pulling the cloak up onto her shoulders without realising.

  “He left you here, alone, at my mercy. That doesn’t sound like the actions of a sane man.” He chuckled at her outrage, he seemed relieved that he had diverted the sexual nature of their exchange.

  “At your mercy? Perhaps you overestimate yourself. You seem more like a coward than a beast to me.” Isabelle accused, folding her arms in front of her.

  “A coward?” He snarled, this had gone in a direction Isabelle had not expected, her outburst had ignited his own temper. She was angry and though the hairs on the back of her neck had stood on end again, emotion was blinding her to the dangers of the angry beast beside her. “You think me a coward?” His voice was low, dangerous, Isabelle didn’t flinch.

  “I think you hide in the shadows. You watch me. You watch all of us. But you’re too afraid to join us. To be part of the world. You’re too afraid to take what you want.”

  “I took you.” No longer was he the reposed king. Now the beast was returned; muscles bulging in forearms which gripped the arms of the throne with deadly strength.

  “No, you trapped me here. Like a fish in a bowl, so that you might watch without risk of being hurt.” Isabelle retaliated.

  There was a horrific roar and the Beast lunged at her. Isabelle let out a yelp as he launched himself from the chair, the weight of him slammed into her. The breath escaped her lungs as his enormous claws pinned her arms to the rug above her head. His face was close to hers. Isabelle saw his teeth, they were enormous, so was his entire face. Eyes angry, lips pulled back into a near-feral snarl.

  “You think you know everything.” He growled, Isabelle flinched and turned her face away from his hot breath. His body was hard against hers, the damp fur doing little to cushion the muscular force with which he held her down. “You irritating little know it all. You think that everybody wants you. That you’re special. Is this what you wanted?” Erik tightened his grip on her arm, claws digging painfully into the flesh. She writhed beneath him, but it was pointless, he was immovable.

  It was like a raindrop attempting to undo a mountain.

  His mouth moved closer to the flesh of her neck, Isabelle’s head turned fully away now, tears brimming in her eyes. “What’s wrong? No smart insights into my character? No teasing manipulation?” His fangs grazed her skin, enough to make her hiss a breath in through her teeth. Her head was swimming, with terror, embarrassment and something a lot more dangerous.

  Pinned to the floor, feeling the sweltering heat of the beast, the coarse fur against her delicate skin as he shifted against her, his breath, his teeth.
This was not a man, not even in a loose sense of the term. He was an animal through and through.

  And she wanted him.

  Even when she was almost sure he was about to rip her throat out.

  “Are you missing the glass of the bowl Isabelle?” His voice rumbled against her skin. Gritting her teeth and taking a stubborn breath, the brunette turned her head to face the monster pinning her to the floor.

  “At least if you kill me,” she whispered, “I’ll be free of the suffocating boredom.”

  His roar was enormous.

  Isabelle closed her eyes; the sound was almost deafening. Their proximity made it louder, and her ears rang long after he had finished. The outburst of anger should have terrified her, but it strengthened her determined resolve. Her father had always told her she was beastly stubborn, it wasn’t about to abandon her now.

  “I could do worse than kill you, Isabelle,” he threatened, his voice low, barely above a whisper. Perhaps it was just that she couldn’t hear him over the ringing in her ears. He pressed against her and she squirmed, he was restricting her breathing. She had tried to maintain a cool façade, but her lips parted in a gasp as more pressure was put on her. Erik manipulated her arms under one paw and with the other he explored her body freely. The back of his claws gliding softly down her silk-covered breasts and causing her nipples to firm beneath the thin fabric. His marble-smooth talons slipped from her chest, down past her navel and finally pinched the fabric of her gown at her hips. He pulled insistently and only stopped at her waist, exposing much more of her than she had expected him to, leaving red claw marks on her skin. “You say you want this. But I can smell the fear on you,” he inhaled deeply, Isabelle winced. He was enjoying this. “I can smell the innocence. You’re just a silly little girl playing games that she doesn’t understand.” Her eyes were wide, staring at him.

  “I-”

  “I’m not some boy you can play with and push away when it suits you.”

  “Please…”

  “Please what? Let you go?” His hand was obscenely high between her legs now, the scratches his claws had left burning lines on her flesh, “are you truly so desperate to keep that innocence? For all that you act like a wanton harlot, I’d have thought this is what you wanted? I could take it from you, right now, rip your virginity to shreds. Beg.” He ordered. Isabelle scrunched her eyes closed, her entire body trembling, her head was clouded in a fog of barely discernible confusion.

  “Beg?” She choked out, “beg for what?” It didn’t matter that hot tears were escaping her closed eyes, nor that she could barely breathe. All that mattered to her then was that he didn’t win. He had exposed her, threatened to steal her virginity, she had killed Gauge for the same thing. Erik chuckled, the sound was deep and rumbled like oncoming thunder, ominous and exciting.

  This wasn’t how she imagined things going, somewhere along the line she had lost the upper hand.

  It wasn’t terror that was making her heart nearly beat out of her chest.

  Isabelle wanted him to take her, she wanted it more than anything she had ever wanted before.

  Sex had always been a weapon, lust a tool she had brandished to get her own way. But Isabelle had never wanted it before. Now she ached, there was a knot in her stomach which spread through her entire body, hot and insistent, she needed him to touch her.

  In this game, she had already lost, not because he overpowered her, but because she wanted him. Possibly even more than he wanted her, and that was absolutely terrifying.

  If he could smell her fear, could he smell her arousal too? Was the smell lingering, as poignant and obvious as the obtrusive hardness of his, growing insistently against her leg.

  “Beg for your innocence. Or for your life.” He warned, his face inches above her own, she could feel his breath against her lips. She knew they were bare moments from something which both terrified and excited her.

  “And if I value neither?” She challenged, stubborn, resolute eyes meeting furious yellow. They held for a moment, a moment that seemed to stretch to infinity. Isabelle couldn’t think. Her body screamed for one thing, as if she might never think again until her desire was sated. Her mind whirred desperately to make sense of it, a horrific yearning which should have made her recoil in disgust. The ambivalence rendered her mute and useless.

  It was a scream that broke the spell, a scream that didn’t come from her. Isabelle’s eyes broke from Erik and snapped to the door.

  Maggie?

  Isabelle had barely registered the face before the beast tore off her and flew past the young blonde, out of the door faster than anything Isabelle had seen before. She heard the outside door slam with an almighty crash.

  Maggie was screaming and sobbing in the doorway.

  Isabelle couldn’t move.

  Devastation and relief washed over her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Goodness, what is going on?” Charlotte appeared in the doorway, and gripped Maggie’s arms. The girl was still sobbing and shaking. Isabelle frowned and pulled herself into a sitting position, she tried to pull her gown down to regain some decency, but Erik had ripped it and there was little she could do. She pulled her cloak from beneath her and was in the process of wrapping it around her shoulders when Charlotte looked at her. “Oh, my Lord.” She exclaimed, “what happened?” The older woman looked back and forth between Maggie and Isabelle, Maggie seemed beyond speech, so Isabelle pulled herself to her feet slowly.

  “She saw your Master,” she spoke, surprised by how shaky her own voice sounded. Her world was spinning, seconds before she had been moments from ruin. A ruin that she still longed for, desperately.

  “He attacked her!” Maggie insisted, she was white as a sheet.

  “It wasn’t that bad; we had an argument is all.” Isabelle reasoned calmly.

  Charlotte grimaced and took in Isabelle’s state of undress. Shaking her head, she stepped towards Isabelle to inspect the damage, something in her expression confused Isabelle. There was genuine care and concern as she assessed her wounds.

  “The Master has one heck of a temper.” Her words were kind but her eyes cynical. Any hope Isabelle might have had that the true nature of what had almost transpired here would be secret, evaporated. “You’re bleeding, did he-”

  “It’s just a scratch, on my leg” Isabelle insisted quickly, cutting her off before she could voice deeper suspicions. Isabelle lifted her robe a little to demonstrate the bloody claw marks which marred the flesh of her leg. They were deeper than she had initially thought. Now that lust was being chased away by reason, her entire leg ached.

  The older woman appraised the wound, her finger touching the trickle of blood running past her knee. Her hands were cold, and Isabelle drew away instinctively. She watched Charlotte’s eyes follow the bruises and broken skin along Isabelle’s neckline. Even despite the mess left on Isabelle, she seemed relieved.

  The pain was making her dizzy.

  “Come to the kitchen, we’ll get these cuts cleaned up.”

  “There’s really no need.” Isabelle wanted to go upstairs, she just wanted to lie down and be alone. She was far too emotionally exhausted to worry about watching every word she said.

  “They’ll get infected if they’re not cleaned, his claws must be filthy, out on the mountain as he is all day. Not to mention that you’re as white as a sheet. I won’t take no for an answer. You can help me get Margaret downstairs too before she faints from fright.” Charlotte looped an arm around the slender girl’s hip. Isabelle stepped to her other side and cautiously took her hand. She was the one who had been injured, but Margaret was still the one being molly-coddled, she took a personal triumph from that. Isabelle never wanted to think of herself as weak. She didn’t want other people to think it either.

  It meant that she was hiding her inner turmoil well.

  “You don’t seem very surprised.”

  “By what dear?” Charlotte asked. Isabelle’s eyes tightened. By the fact that the beast ha
d attacked her. That she was half-naked, her gown torn to shreds. Instead, she settled for something safer, even if she couldn’t quite hide the disbelief from her question.

  “The Beast being in the castle.”

  “I’ve been here long enough, he’s not a quiet creature. The younger ones get so frightened though, we’ve lost a few of them over the years thanks to his temper.”

  “Lost?”

  “They quit.” Charlotte clarified, and Isabelle nodded, relief palpable.

  “I thought he stayed hidden?” Isabelle asked. It was impossible without wincing, she had to limp awkwardly to stop her legs touching and exacerbating the wounds, but with half of Maggie’s weight over her shoulders, it was difficult.

  Isabelle wished she’d gone straight to her room. It would have given her time to collect herself, to try and figure out exactly how she felt about the situation. If Maggie hadn’t come in, how far would he have gone? The thought made her heart race. Would he come to her rooms later to finish what they had started? Isabelle wanted to, even with her leg radiating pain, the desire pulsed through her like an insistent undercurrent.

  What was wrong with her; to want a monster?

  Maybe her father had been right all along.

  Maybe she was wicked.

  “He’s never hidden per se,” Charlotte explained, jarring Isabelle from her thoughts. “He’s always around. He mostly stays upstairs. When he’s not out in the forest at least. As a rule, he only ventures into the castle late at night. What were you doing awake at this hour anyway?” There was the barest hint of accusation in her tone, it was comforting, the world hadn’t turned entirely on its head. Charlotte still disliked her.

  “I couldn’t sleep. I saw the door open. I just wanted to talk to him” Isabelle lied; she certainly didn’t think Charlotte would understand her burgeoning obsession with the beast.

  “Are we not enjoying our life of luxury as much as one assumed?” Charlotte asked. Isabelle pursed her lips.

  “No,” she shook her head, “not really actually. I thought I might be able to find out why I’m here.”