Chapter 15 Let Him Chase
(Adelaide)
Her breath caught. The words dropped into her like stones into deep water, sending ripples of dread and defiance radiating outward until her fingertips tingled.
The forest trembled as the beast reared back slightly, towering above her once more. The ground cracked beneath his claws.
Every girl shrank back. Every villager sobbed. But Adelaide—Adelaide glared up at him like she wished she could tear his throat out with her bare hands. The image flashed through her mind—his great body crashing to the forest floor, his fire-drenched eyes going dark—and she held onto it like a promise.
He lowered his head again, positioning his snarling face inches from hers. Teeth like daggers. Breath like smoke. Eyes glowing like molten pits.
She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink.
The beast moved his head in a serpentine motion, his massive horns slicing through the space above her as he leaned down to inspect her closely once again.
He inhaled. A long, slow, deliberate inhale at the crook of her neck, hot breath ghosting across her collarbone, making her skin prickle with cold sweat. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. She felt like prey under a wolf’s nose. Every instinct screamed to jerk away, but she held herself motionless, a single taut line of refusal.
Her stomach churned. Her throat burned. Her vision swam. Terror and rage tangled so violently inside her that she thought she might explode.
I’ll kill you.
The thought burned through her, savage and electric.
Someday. Somehow. I will find a way to end you. The vow didn’t feel like a wild, impossible fantasy. It felt… anchored. As if the forest itself had heard and tucked the promise into its roots.
The Devil’s beast snorted, breath rumbling through her hair. He stepped closer still, towering, monstrous, overwhelming. The thick of his fur brushing against the thin material of her ceremonial dress.
Her breasts chose this moment to swell, and her nipples to harden. Her lips curled, instinctively baring her teeth. And gods help her—for one scorching moment, she wanted to slap his monstrous face.
The fury built in her throat, poisonous and hot, rising past her terror.
Do it.
A voice inside her whispered.
Hit him. Show him you refuse to break.
But her survival instinct roared louder. If she fought back now, in front of the entire village, he would tear her throat out before the hunt even began. She saw it clearly: her mother’s scream, Lyra’s collapse, blood steaming on the frozen earth. No. Not like this. Not here.
She clenched her jaw until her teeth screamed in protest. Her breath rushed out between her teeth in a shaking exhale. Not a spit. Not a hit. Not yet. But almost.
The beast’s growl rumbled deep in his chest, vibrating through her bones.
He leaned in even closer, his horned head casting her in shadow.
His burning eyes locked onto hers. And for one horrifying second, she felt intelligence behind them. Recognition. Interest. Possession. Like a hand closing around the back of her neck—not yet squeezing, just resting there, testing the shape of her spine.
He spoke then—not in words, but in a guttural, echoing rumble that shook her lungs:
“Mine.”
Adelaide’s blood froze.
Her breath hitched in her throat—sharp, strangled, sick. Her vision blurred at the edges. Anger surged up again, blinding and bright.
I will never be yours.
Before she could form the words—before she could spit in his face—before she could scream at him—
The horn sounded.
Deep. Ancient. Thundering across the clearing. The note rolled over them like a wave, slamming into her chest and tearing her attention away from his eyes, away from the word still ringing inside her.
The Offering horn.
The Devil’s beast drew back, chest heaving.
He reared—towering, massive, terrifying—then slammed his claws into the ground hard enough to send cracks spiderwebbing through the earth.
With a roar that shattered the silence, he vanished in a blur of monstrous muscle and shadow, sprinting into the forest like the night itself had swallowed him. One moment he was a wall of fur and fire in front of her; the next, he was a streak of darkness between the trees, branches whipping and snapping in his wake.
Girls screamed and bolted. Villagers wailed. Lanterns swung wildly, casting crazed circles of light that caught white dresses already darting toward the tree line. Someone fell. Someone was yanked upright. The clearing dissolved into chaos.
Adelaide didn’t move. Not for a heartbeat. Her lungs squeezed. Her chest burned.
His words echoed in her skull, searing themselves into her:
Little flame.
Run for me.
I take what I want.
Her anger burst like a storm. Good. Let him come. Let him chase.
She would destroy him. Even if she had to survive a hundred nights in his forest to learn how. Even if she had to carve the method into the very bark of these trees.
She tore her feet from the ground and ran headfirst into the forest. Cold earth exploded beneath her toes as she pushed off, white dress snapping around her thighs, breath tearing from her chest in sharp bursts. The line between safety and nightmare vanished under her first step, and the trees swallowed her whole.