BEAST'S SLAVE - CHAPTER 51

“Follow me,” Grand Lord Vladya called over his shoulder to Emeriel, before he rushed after the beast.

Emeriel hurried after him, his heart in his throat for two reasons. On one hand, a part of him felt a sense of relief. The beast had noticed that scent. He was going to hunt it down.

On the other hand, Emeriel was terrified as he ran to keep up with Lord Vladya’s long strides. Fear of the unknown gripped him.

Oh gods, the slave master would reveal Emeriel’s secrets tonight during the confrontation, wouldn’t he? Shout it across the land so that everyone, including Lord Vladya, would hear that Emeriel was, in fact, a girl?

He stopped to scratch his arm, as he’d done three times already. With the heat burning inside him, Emeriel recognized the signs of his approaching cycle early this time. He was about to go into heat again.

Head raised to the sky, he whispered, “Please, let it be a mini-heat, not a full heat.” He pleaded with the heavens.

Despite his racing heart and his hands slick with sweat, Emeriel ran as fast as he could, catching glimpses of Lord Vladya as he turned corners, still tracking the beast’s scent.

His training in Navia kicked in. If there was one thing Emeriel excelled at, it was running. He was swift on his feet.

He heard Lord Vladya send a soldier to the Eastern Wings to fetch Grand Lord Ottai. In the distance, screams rose in the distance, rising above the pounding of Emeriel’s pulse.

Chaos spread like wildfire through the village. Soon, a small crowd trailed behind, their voices a cacophony of terror and curiosity as they wondered where the beast was headed.

By the time Emeriel caught up with Lord Vladya, he was breathless, and they had ventured quite far from the fortress.

They stood before a small hut not far from the tavern, where another gathering had formed. Grand Lord Zaiper had also arrived, completing the assembly of grand lords. And there, in front of the hut, stood the beast.

A strangled cry, laced with raw terror, ripped through the air. “What is going on—Holy Ukrae!” Boris’s voice reached Emeriel even before the male himself stumbled out of the house.

The slave master’s face was now drained of color, eyes wide with a primal fear as he took in sight of the raging, panting beast in front of his home. Never had Emeriel imagined he’d witness such stark terror contort Master Boris’s features.

Boris’s gaze whipped through the small crowd with frantic desperation, finally landing on Emeriel like a hawk seizing its prey. “You wretched creature! You betrayed me? After I explicitly warned you not to?”

A small whimper escaped Emeriel’s lips.

“Fine then!” Boris raged. “I am delighted that everyone is here, for I shall reveal—” his words were cut off as the beast loomed over him, lifting him off the ground with a single, powerful hands.

The feral ripped Boris’s shoulder off, one then the other, leaving the slave master’s arms dangling uselessly.

The sound of rending flesh and crutching bone echoed through the room. Boris screamed in agony as his limbs were torn from his body.

Gasps of horror filled the air, faces contorted in terror.

Yet, the beast was not done. The slave master’s legs were next; a wet, meaty sound followed as they were torn from the torso.

Boris’s legs were next, torn and separated from his body. Then, the beast reached in and swiftly severed Boris’s head from his shoulders.

Raising the severed head high into the air, the beast let out a victorious roar, before tossing it aside where it landed with a sickening thud, rolling to a stop in a growing pool of blood.

The people erupted into screams and ran for their lives, their shouts of terror reverberating through the night as they scattered in all directions.

In the aftermath, only the grand lords remained, their faces pale, their eyes reflecting the shock and wariness.

“We must fight the beast now. Let us shift!” Lord Zaiper told the others.

“Not yet,” Lord Vladya snapped. “If it had no intention of attacking, and we assume a fighting stance by shifting, we would be provoking it.”

“Lord Vladya is correct. What if our actions agitate it further and force it to engage? We would be endangering our people,” Lord Ottai added.

“Do you two not hear yourselves? Why would a feral not engage us—oh…” Lord Zaiper’s words died in his throat as he saw the beast turn and start to walk away.

It stalked towards Emeriel and stopped. A hush fell over the assembly of grand lords as they watched the beast touch the boy’s face in a gentle caress.

In a move that defied all logic, the feral scooped the boy up, and placed him upon its hunking shoulder, and lumbered away. Back the towers of Ravenshadow.

••••••••

Emeriel held her breath, rigid as stone, as the beast entered the Forbidden Chambers and came to a halt. He lowered her until her feet touched the ground.

After Witnessing the way in which he’d ki||ed Master Boris, fear clawed at Emeriel’s insides. A relentless, icy dread seeping back into her bones.

Before she could contemplate her chances of escaping through the open doorway, the first wave of heat contraction hit her.

Pain speared through her, dropping her to her knees. A scream, raw and animalistic, ripped from her throat.

The beast’s claws slashed at her clothes, shredding them away. This time, Emeriel helped, quickly pulling away the tattered remains of her clothes until she lay naked and vulnerable on the cold floor.

The door gaped open. Soldiers might charge in, the grand lords might return. Any moment, she might be discovered and her secret exposed.

Yet, Emeriel couldn’t bring herself to care. The dangers distant, muted against the raging storm within her.

Her traitorous body wanted to be mounted. For the first time, she craved it. Not due to the mindless compulsion of her heat, but a deep, need to feel him inside her. Around her. Everywhere.

For the last time.

To surrender completely. The realization struck with the force of a blow. There was no impulse to fight, no instinct to flee.

Worse, another urge twisted within her. To bare her neck, to offer her blood to the beast.

The intensity of which she wanted to feed him, was terrifying. She froze. Where had that urge come from?

Instincts drove Emeriel, she dropped to her knees and presented to the beast. “Take me, please.”

A loud snarl echoed behind her, followed by a nudge of his phallus. Emeriel waited, knowing what to expect. This time, she freed her mind and surrendered to the experience.

“It’s okay. Do it,” she whispered. A gush of wetness drenched her core, spilling out.

The beast entered her.

A sob escaped her lips. She felt a mixture of fullness, discomfort, pleasure, pain, and a sense of rightness all at once. As he moved, Emeriel took his strokes, her body shaking.

The intensity of her heat gradually calmed to a dull ache. The beast’s arms found leverage, one planted on the ground while the other dug into her hips. Its movements were rough and forceful, causing her ponytail to loosen, and her luxurious hair cascading down around her.

Deep grunts of pleasure rumbled from the beast’s throat. Its phallus pressed against her siren gland. Emeriel cried out as an unexpected 0rg@zm crashed over her. She panted through it as the world spun, her thoughts drifting like leaves in a storm.

Offer your neck. Allow it to drink from you. Do it.

Oh gods…! Emeriel’s eyelids squeezed shut, every muscle in her face clenched in a fierce battle against her instincts.

She felt cradled in the beast’s arms. Protected.

The beast adjusted its th-ru_st, driving deeper. Emeriel sobbed through the pain. Would a day come when he would take her in human form? Would the day come were being in its arms would be purely pleasurable?

Mere pipe dreams, all of them. The beast would be ki||ed soon. Any day now.

Tears filled her eyes. “It’s okay. Don’t stop.” she whispered.

This time, the beast didn’t go searching for her cërv|x, much to her relief. Something in her encouragement seemed to soothe his agitation. As if it too could sense her newfound composure, her genuine eagerness to please. Something shifted – the tense lines of its body softened.

And when her second 0rg@zm hit, a primal wail ripped from her throat. Her body, already a trembling wreck, finally gave out. Arms limp, she crumpled forward.

Let him drink! Feed him! A voice screamed inside her.

But you could die, Emeriel. Another voice cautioned. Your body will not replenish the blood; You’re not a bloodhost. It’ll drain you dry, and you will die.

Feed him anyway. You know you want to. You crave it. The compelling voice countered.

Emeriel whimpered, her knuckles whitened as her hands fisted. A war raged within her. To give in or resist?

But you know you want to, a new voice, softer, whispered to her.

With a choked sob, Emeriel surrendered. Muscles straining, she heaved her upper body up, bracing her back against her knee for support. With trembling hands, she gathered her tangled hair, exposing the delicate curve of her neck. Her bare throat pulsed in the dim light, a silent plea.

“I offer my blood to you, My King,” she breathed, her voice barely louder than the rustle of her own breath. “Take it.”

The beast’s roar filled the air, a guttural sound that vibrated through Emeriel’s bones. Its massive form trembled, whether in anticipation of the feed or a primal struggle against its own nature, she couldn’t tell. Its head drew closer from behind, breath caressing her ear.

A searing pain began in her neck as a single, razor-sharp scraped her flesh, leaving a burning welt in its wake. Then, it sank in deeper.

A jagged scream tore from Emeriel’s throat as blinding pain ripped through her. She gasped for air. Fought to breathe. Her nails digging into her palms in a futile attempt at control.

The beast didn’t attempt to penetrate her with the rest of its fang—just that one tooth. It drew her blood in with small, measured sips.

Emeriel felt more than heard when he came. Spurts of warm sperm coated her insides and trickled out of her.

A wave of pleasure suddenly consumed her, triggering yet another release. She didn’t make a sound. She couldn’t.

The overwhelming sensation held her captive. Her eyes squeezed into slits, her eyelids a chaotic blur of motion, while her body convulsed repeatedly, as if she were having a seizure. Maybe she was.

It was too much. Simply too much.

Finally, she slumped forward. Her vision swam, shapes and colors melting into one another, and sounds lost meaning. Her body, sluggish and heavy, felt like a stranger to her.

Aftershocks continued to ripple through her, her visions going dark around the edges.

And just as her senses faded into darkness, she felt the fang withdraw from her neck.

•••••••••••••••

That night, the news of the beast’s escape and ki||ings like wildfire spread throughout Urai, plunging the people into terror. The savage manner in which the feral creature tore through one of their own without reason only intensified their fear.

Chaos descended. Men shifted, assuming their beastly forms, standing guard outside their homes to protect their families. Slave masters, their faces etched with a fear they’d rarely shown, scurried back to their dwellings, their hearts filled with wariness after witnessing the fate that befell their colleague.

The high lords of Urai convened an emergency meeting at the grand high court, led by the grand Lord, to discuss the situation.

Meanwhile, Aekeira rushed to Madam Livia, and begged the older woman to go with her to the fourth wing to check on Emeriel.

Madam Livia agreed without hesitation and accompanied Aekeira. Upon arrival, they found Emeriel unconscious, carefully laid out on the corridors, just as before.

With practiced hands, Aekeira worked quickly. B??@š?s bound, breeches pulled on, then, working together, they lifted Emeriel.Aekeira’s strength strained under the weight, but fueled by desperation, she pressed on. With Madam Livia’s steady guidance, they navigated the corridors and returned to the western wings.

In court, Lord Zaiper’s voice rang out. “Fear gnaws at Urai. Chaos reigns, and tonight, we grieve a life brutally ripped from us.” He paused, dramatically. “To save our people, the feral must die. Fortnight is too long – we act in two nights.”

A ripple of surprise washed over the court.

“I will commission the finest experts,” Zaiper continued. “They will work day and night on our weapon. Every resource, and every ingredient will be ready. In two nights’ time, the beast will be dead.”

****************

Within the forbidden chamber, bathed in the crimson glow of its recent feast, the beast lay sated. The taste of blood still lingered in its mouth, savoring the flavor as it basked in the afterglow of its carnal desires fulfilled.

The beast’s body shuddered. A ripple not of fear, but a strange metamorphosis surging from within.

Paws contorted, bones shifting with sickening snaps beneath fur.

Claws became blunt nails. Hindquarters elongated, warped, and reshaped.

The wild mane of black flowed and twisted, strands morphing, shimmering… and falling to frame a face not animal, but hauntingly human.

Yellow eyes burned. Then flickered, fading to a startling green eyes of a man.

For one breathless moment, the beast was gone. In its place, a naked man lay.

Large, powerfully built, and strikingly handsome. Grand King Daemonikai.

Only for the space of a heartbeat.

Then, as abruptly as it began, the change reversed.

Power drained, energy seeping away like sand through fingers.

The man convulsed, and the familiar fur and fangs returned.

Exhausted, the beast fell asleep.

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