346- The Beast She Feared
POV Seraphine Valerian:
I backed away, dizzy, stumbling over my own legs when I saw the immense creature howl furiously.
Everything spun, fear shaking me, terror too vivid to understand. And Viktor was there, much bigger and stronger, his clothes ripped at the seams, covered in blood. Not his—his wounds were healed.
Black fur on his face, longer hair, a powerful jaw with gleaming fangs. The image of a beast with golden, inhuman eyes and enormous claws.
I retreated, no longer knowing what to do, trembling with fear. Everything spun vertiginously and I wanted to run, to hide, but there was nowhere to go. It was a nightmare.
I only realized I had backed into the cemetery when the backs of my legs hit a long, dark tombstone. I froze, and the howl stopped. The glowing eyes fixed on me. And he came forward, threatening.
“No...”
I lost my balance, weak, drained. I fell backward onto the cold stone that covered one of the women’s graves, one of that creature’s victims. And I couldn’t think anymore, only stare as he loomed over me.
Images flashed through my mind—the way he had torn Konrad and the other wolves apart alone, his rage still alive, pouring out. I raised my arms to defend myself, and he stopped, growling low, narrowing his eyes.
He sniffed the air while the seconds dragged on and I nearly fainted from terror.
Then the fur on his face began to recede, the blackness of his hair turning mahogany brown, the jaw drawing back. So did the fangs and the claws.
His appearance was not fully human. He still looked almost like he had that time when he caught me in the bedroom and ripped my clothes apart with his nails. Golden eyes, part of the beast still present, claws remaining.
“I’m not going to kill you,” he growled.
In the middle of the chaos, tears sprang to my eyes and I murmured in anguish,
“The way you didn’t kill those women?”
Viktor roared loudly, deep and crazed. His expression dripping rage and chaos, as though something were tearing him apart. Then he lunged, and I screamed, thinking it would be my end.
“So that’s what you think I am?” He grabbed me by the arms and his claws scratched me a little, but I barely noticed, thinking worse was still to come. He pulled me against him. “If it’s a beast you want, then a beast is what you’ll get!”
“No!”
I screamed as he threw me over his shoulder and ran toward the castle. I yelled, cried, struggled. But he did not loosen his grip by even a fraction.
He was going to finish me.
(...)
POV Viktor Averwyn:
The outward marks had vanished from my body, but I had never felt so wounded, so torn apart inside.
I had never wanted the death of those human women buried on my property. That night, I had fought to save Seraphine and Adelina. How could she think I would take her life?
My daughter, the most important person in my life, had run toward Tharengard, toward the man who had tried to exterminate her when she was still a baby. Konrad had done everything to reach Seraphine that night, blood in his eyes. And I was the monster!
I snarled in rage and hurt, in a fury I could not control. The anger throbbed—at being wronged, at no one seeing the truth. Evil disguised itself as good, deceived. And I felt struck down. In mourning.
I roared again when we reached the castle gate and the guard opened it.
I ran up the stairs while she was still screaming and crying. In my hatred and outrage at the betrayal of both of them, my emotions were raw and my instincts exploding, leaving no room to think clearly, my wolf taking over.
It was need, violence, loss of control. I kicked the door open, entered the bedroom, rage and resentment giving more strength to my beast, which demanded relief, which demanded an answer that could not be reached.
I was brutal when I threw her onto the bed and finished tearing off my clothes, hurling the rags away. I leapt onto the mattress, scenting her like an animal, muscles rigid, heart pounding, completely naked and erect.
“No! Viktor!”
She screamed, trying to crawl backward, raising her arms again to defend herself, her legs to kick me. I saw the scratch I had made on her arms and stopped, panting, my human side battling the beast. Fangs and claws vanished, but that fury of desire and death did not.
I let her hit me, let her fight. I tore off her sneakers, her pants, ripped her shirt and panties apart. I spread her legs, grunting like a madman as I covered her body with mine. Desperate for her, wounded, crying inside. It was all tangled together.
I took her mouth, pressed her against me. My wolf howling, demanding, dominating. Her scent and her taste giving him what he wanted, her skin soothing my pain.
I could no longer stop.