Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
BEAST
I secure the dungeon door against the sounds behind me, my bloodied bullwhip heavy at my side.
With a deep rumble of frustration, I hang the weapon on its hook beside the reinforced entrance and begin the long climb toward the civilized levels of my castle.
“What is done in darkness will come to light,” Creator-Father used to intone with his theatrical flair. Then he would curse violently. “Except in this cursed instance. Pray with me, Beast, that none of this ever reaches mortal eyes. Or it will herald the End of Days.”
Creator-Father always had a taste for the dramatic.
Talk and more talk, endless pontificating when he wasn’t playing at being a divine inventor. He did so love his delusions of godhood.
And now I’m left to manage the consequences of his twisted experiments.
A particularly anguished howl echoes from the depths below, and I rap my knuckles sharply against the iron door to restore silence.
They know better than to make such noise after correction.
Yes, they felt the sting of discipline today. They should understand the boundaries. I could return immediately, and I rattle the heavy door meaningfully to remind them.
The screaming subsides to manageable levels.
Good.
I’m halfway up the ancient stone steps when I hear something that stops me cold—sounds from the upper levels that don’t belong. This castle should contain only howling wind and the occasional disturbance from below. Nothing more.
I know every whisper and groan of these stones intimately.
So that rapid patter-patter-patter-patter echoing down from above is unmistakable.
It’s a mortal sound.
The delicate percussion of her feet on stone stairs. She’s running down them.
The reason crystallizes immediately.
She’s attempting to flee again.
Heat builds in my chest, making the divine spark there pulse with golden light in the stairwell’s darkness. I disappear into the dungeon for mere hours, and she thinks the quiet gives her an opportunity to escape?
I shake my head, more disappointed than surprised.
If anything, I’m angry only at my own failure to make her understand her place here.
You’ve been too gentle with her. Too intoxicated by the pleasure she brings to do what must be done.
I want to snarl at my own weakness, but unlike my foolish little consort, I understand the value of stealth.
Her footsteps draw closer.
That’s right, precious one. Come to me and discover what happens when you break faith.
I fold my wings tight against my massive frame. Even compressed, the confines of this mortal-built stairwell barely accommodate me. My wing tips scrape against stone, loosening feathers that drift like black snow, but I make no sound.
Patter-patter-patter-patter.
Still, she descends, oblivious to the danger waiting below.
I feed on my righteous fury, breathing it in along with her intoxicating scent that grows stronger with each step.
She’s close now.
Almost within reach.
I crouch low in the shadows, every muscle coiled to spring the moment she reaches the ground floor, where I can corner her properly.
But—she doesn’t arrive.
What?
Instead of reaching my level and bolting for freedom, she suddenly reverses direction and heads back up the stairs.
I stare into the darkness above as her footsteps fade.
Has she forgotten something? Some possession so precious she’d risk valuable escape time to retrieve it? I’m genuinely disappointed in my consort’s survival instincts if she’s truly that foolish. Her freedom was nearly within grasp. At least, I was prepared to let her believe so.
Or perhaps...
I frown, then discreetly check my own scent. After my visit to the dungeon’s horrors, I am admittedly... pungent.
It’s definitely time for another cleansing plunge in the icy lake—especially if my intended prey can detect my approach and flee before I can reach her.
Her footsteps grow so faint I can tell she’s nearly back to our chambers, where she belongs. Excellent. I’ll go purify myself in the frigid waters, then we can resume our little dance. Though I’ll monitor her much more closely now that I know she’s attempted escape again.
But then my eyes widen as I hear her returning down the stairwell.
I blink in the encompassing darkness, marveling at her recklessness. I will thoroughly enjoy teaching her better judgment.
Perhaps having a naive consort isn’t entirely unfortunate. She’ll be simpler to guide, likely more responsive to proper instruction. If I’m slightly disappointed in her strategic thinking, well, she’s magnificent in nearly every other aspect.
I settle into a hunting crouch as I listen to those delicate footsteps on the spiral stones.
Patter-patter-patter-patter.
The castle has no shortage of stairs, but she navigates them faster than I anticipated. Clearly, her newly healed body is adapting beautifully to its capabilities.
I work my jaw, preparing.
Ready to capture my wayward consort.
Ready to show her exactly why she belongs with me, not lost in the wilderness.
The thought of her alone in this harsh landscape, vulnerable to dangers she can’t even imagine, makes something fierce and protective surge through my chest. She has no comprehension of what lurks in these mountains, what other creatures might catch her scent and decide she looks... appetizing.
No. She’s mine to protect. Mine to keep safe and warm and cherished.
Even if I have to remind her of that fact rather firmly. I’ll make sure the punishment is something she never forgets…
Her footsteps are almost upon me now. I can hear her slightly labored breathing; she’s been exerting herself, probably working up the courage for this escape attempt.
My brave, foolish little consort.
The divine light in my chest pulses brighter as I prepare to sweep her into my arms and carry her back to safety, back to where she belongs.
She’ll probably fight me at first, but once I explain how dangerous the world beyond these walls truly is, surely she’ll understand. I’ll make her understand.
After all, everything I do is to protect what’s precious to me.
And she—stubborn, beautiful, impossibly brave—is the most precious thing I’ve ever possessed.