The Beast & His Beauty Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Virgin Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 74631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
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Crawe was with her and now she’s injured or…harmed in some way.

Twigs snap under the weight of my step as we remove the distance from the woman who’s become our obsession. Another quiet sob and my heartbeat slows as I close in on her.

Thoughts run wild in our mind as we near the dim light of the window.

She could be upset about a number of things. Hell, Crawe may have been at the bakery after she’d left. I’m most likely being irrational, but I cling to that thought. Her sorrow has nothing to do with our enemy, but she must be calmed and lured to sleep. The beast relents his need for dominance. He has no interest in being in control with her in this state. I feel his pressure against me, wanting me to calm her, subdue her. He wants her in a state of arousal and desire. Just as we come up to the old window of the cottage, and I dare to brave a look inside, a man’s voice is heard. The beast’s hackles raise. I steady him to wait and listen.

“Elle, please understand.” Elle. Our beauty has a name. I whisper her name and let the soft sound linger on my lips. My blood heats with satisfaction.

“I can’t, Father!” I close my eyes and tilt my head to hear better. Can’t what? After a moment of nothing but her gasps for air between loud cries, she speaks again.

“Please, tell him you’ve changed your mind!”

“Elle, you know I can’t do that.” His reply is sorrowful.

Her defeated tone nearly whispers, “I can’t marry him.” My eyes widen and my fists clench. I calm myself and the beast, it’s no matter. We’re taking her tonight. She will not marry. She doesn’t belong to anyone but me. The thought barely settles the beast. He paces inside of me. His need is crude: to feel her body against his and remind her of his claim.

As the conversation continues, I keep in mind that it is irrelevant. She will be in my bed by morning. Elle is mine.

“Lord Crawe will make a good husband.” His tone is placating and hopeful. I just barely repress the growl and the growing rage. I remind the beast; we’ll have her tonight. He will not touch her. She is ours.

Elle attempts to speak, but nothing discernible is uttered. All the while, I stay in the darkness outside of the window, waiting for the moment her father leaves her alone.

“You’ll have some time to get to know him.” Her response to his placating tone is only a grief-stricken sob. “When you’re my age you’ll understand, Elle. He’ll take care of you.”

Some time passes with silence. I wait with bated breath. The beast pushes forward with impatience.

Quiet but steady steps, followed by the creak of a door closing, suggests her father has left her alone in the room. She continues to cry, although now her sobs are nearly silent and interrupted by shaking breaths. After a long moment of silence, I hesitate to look but the urge is too strong and I cave to temptation.

The dimly lit fire casts small shadows across the room. I quickly make out what looks to be a rather small bedroom. A cot in the corner catches my eye. I make out her small form huddled under a blanket. Her body shakes gently with her sobs.

My heart clenches in pain. Doubt plagues my conscience. For the first time in years I feel sympathy and compassion. It’s paralyzing. Everything in my being warns me; I need to ease her pain. Her pain is mine, the thought comes from the beast. Surely it’s only so she’ll be more willing to stay with me. To do as I please. If I make her content then she will be in my debt. Hopefulness and delight replace those unwanted dreadful emotions. Since she’s unhappy here, I can take advantage of her situation and use it to keep a hold on her. A wicked grin pulls at my lips as my plan takes form.

We’ll wait for her to sleep. The beast nods in agreement.

Then we’ll make our move.

ELLE

I’m not aware at first, there’s no tingle of distress or any alarm whatsoever. I drowsily yawn as I stretch my body, completely unaware. Although, I’m warmer than usual, more relaxed even. As though I’ve slept through a million pleasant dreams.

The first hint is one of surprise: the winter cold hasn’t crept into my cot while I slept. A small smile plays on my lips as I sink deeper into comfort. I dreamed of his touch again, but this time it felt more real. My pulse quickens and the heat intensifies. His masculine pine scent is all I can smell, his low growl of desire is all I can hear, and the deep rumble of his chest against my back makes me feel nothing but lust. With my lips parted in desire and my mind lost in fantasy, I arch my neck and clench my thighs in the memory of his teeth nipping my flushed skin.


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