My heart quickened. He was talking about Beast. About Gaspard. About everything that had happened since his sacrifice.
“How do I know what’s real?” I whispered back. “Everything I thought I understood has changed.”
“By learning,” he answered simply. “By looking beyond what others tell you to see. By trusting yourself.” His fingers squeezed mine gently. “I love your curiosity, Isabeau. I’ve always loved how you refuse to accept simple answers.”
The dream began to blur at the edges, Papa’s face becoming less distinct. I tried to hold on, to keep him with me for just a moment longer. “I miss you,” I said, my voice breaking. “I don’t know what to do without you.”
“Yes, you do,” he replied, his voice fading even as his smile remained clear. “You already know more than you realize. Trust your questions, little bell. They’ll lead you home.”
The dream dissolved around me, Papa’s face the last thing to fade, those kind eyes looking at me with such pride that it physically hurt. I reached for him, but my hands grasped only air as darkness closed in once more.
And somewhere nearby, a raven cawed.
Something heavy pressed me into the mattress, pulling me from Papa’s fading face in my dream to a new reality of fur and weight and warmth. For one terrifying heartbeat, I thought Gaspard had found me. That his hands would be the ones gripping my flesh, his voice hissing threats in my ear.
My body went rigid, muscles tightening to fight or flee. Then a low rumble vibrated against my back, familiar and strangely comforting. Not Gaspard. Beast.
His snout dragged along my shoulders, hot breath dampening the thin fabric of the borrowed green dress that had twisted around my body during sleep. The panic that had seized my chest began to ebb away, replaced by something I couldn’t quite name. Not quite relief, not quite anticipation, but somewhere in the shadowy territory between.
I rolled onto my back beneath him, wanting, no needing to see his face. His massive form loomed over me, blocking out the weak morning light filtering through tattered curtains. Those amber eyes, so unnervingly like my own, gazed down with an intensity that took my breath away. Not the vacant stare of an animal, but something deeper. Something human trapped behind a bestial mask.
“You came back,” I whispered, my voice rough from sleep.
Beast’s only answer was another low rumble, his head dipping to nuzzle at my neck. I felt his teeth graze my skin. Not threatening, but reminding. I belonged to him now, marked and claimed. The thought should have terrified me, should havesent me scrambling for the knife still hidden beneath my pillow. Instead, I found myself tilting my head, giving him better access.
His massive paw moved with surprising delicacy, hooking into the neckline of the dress and tugging. The ancient fabric gave way easily, tearing from bodice to hem. Cool, darkened morning air kissed my exposed skin, raising gooseflesh across my breasts and belly.
Beast’s manhood pressed hot and insistent against my thigh, already emerged from the sheath of fur that had concealed it in his resting state. I didn’t know the proper words for it. Mama had died when I was fourteen, before she could have such conversations with me. Papa, for all his progressive thoughts on female education, had drawn the line at explaining the mechanics of coupling. And the working women’s crude terminology never seemed to fit this... connection between me and Beast.
He entered me with a single, powerful thrust that forced the air from my lungs in a sharp gasp. Despite last night’s claiming in the forest and the bath that had soothed my tender flesh, I was still unaccustomed to his size. Pain bloomed, bright and immediate, but different from before. My body remembered him now, remembered how to accommodate his impossible girth.
Beast stilled above me, his eyes studying my face with an intelligence that belied his animal form. Waiting. Giving me time.
How long had he been trapped like this? How long since he’d touched another with anything approaching gentleness? The thought made my chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with his weight pressing down on me.
“It’s alright,” I whispered, reaching up to touch the side of his face. My fingers sank into the soft fur of his cheek, and his eyes—God, those eyes—closed briefly at the contact. “I can bear it.”
Something shifted in his gaze when he looked at me again. Something that might have been gratitude or relief or both. He began to move, slowly at first, each thrust careful and measured. The pain receded with each passing moment, replaced by a strange fullness that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
As my body adjusted, relaxing around his intrusion, I found myself wanting more. Needing more. My hips rose to meet his, encouraging a faster pace.
“Please,” I breathed, the word barely audible.
Beast didn’t need more invitation. A shudder passed through his massive frame, and his eyes rolled back slightly as he abandoned the restraint he’d been showing. His hips drove forward with new purpose, watching how his large member spread my delicate folds, enjoying powerful thrusts that shook the ancient bed frame and sent tremors through my entire body.
Sounds escaped my throat that I’d never heard myself make before. Not with Gaspard’s assaults, not even during Beast’s first claiming in the forest. These were sounds of pleasure, pure and undeniable, torn from some primal place I hadn’t known existed within me. Each thrust struck something deep inside that sent lightning racing through my veins, building a pressure that demanded release.
My toes began to curl, my back arching as that delicious tension coiled tighter, higher. Beast’s movements grew more frantic, less coordinated, his breath coming in hot pants against my neck. Then I felt it, the swelling at the base of his member, stretching me further as his knot formed, locking us together.
His snout found the front of my shoulder this time, teeth breaking skin with exquisite precision. Not enough to truly damage, just enough to mark. To claim.
The sharp pain of the bite was overwhelmed by the rush of pleasure that exploded through me at the same moment, myinner walls clenching rhythmically around his knot as my release crashed over me in waves.
Beast’s seed flooded me, hot and copious, each pulse bringing a fresh wave of sensation. I cried out, my fingers finding his ears and tangling in the fur there without conscious thought. His body went rigid above me, caught in the grip of his own climax.
When the intensity began to fade, I kept stroking his ears, running my fingers through the soft fur. Beast grew still, his massive form relaxing against me, but his eyes watched my hands with a hunger that had nothing to do with mating. I understood then, with perfect clarity, how long he had been alone. How long since anyone had touched him with kindness rather than ran in fear. He nudged my hand when I paused, urging me to continue the simple caress.
My heart broke a little at the gesture, even as warmth bloomed in my chest. This creature, so feared by my village that they sacrificed human lives to appease him, craved the most basic form of affection.
