Page 12 of Bound By the Beast Man
The power surges through me, electric and alive, as my body trembles beneath him, clenching around him in waves of pleasure.
He withdraws his sword from me and I collapse.
He takes a breath and then kisses me on the lips with his cock.
It tastes of raw pleasure and a lick until his seed spills on my feet. I embrace his roar of satisfaction.
I rub his cum deep into my skin and stroke his ass as he recovers.
This power— it’s like the stories my mother whispered late at night when my father slept, tales of her own mother, a mysterious woman from a faraway land who could make flowers bloom in winter, soothe a fever with a touch.
She called them fairy tales, but as I look up at Corvak’s face, his eyes wide with shock and awe, his chest heaving as he stares at the fading glow around us, I know with chilling certainty they were not.
This power, this light, is real, and it’s mine.
17
CORVAK
The golden light fades, leaving the cave in the dim glow of the embers. A new, strange energy hums in the air, a residual power that clings to my skin. It is the energy of Purna magic. And it came from her. I look at Diana, my mate, who is staring back at me with wide, terrified eyes. The passion of moments before is gone, replaced by a chilling, profound shock.
She is part of them. The realization hits hard, but my thoughts immediately fly to my brothers. Silas, Tarek, Caspian, Ronan, Lucaris. I see their faces in my mind, and a fresh wave of guilt crashes over me. I swore an oath to them, an oath of reunion, and here I am, sidetracked by a conflict I do not understand, bound to a woman whose heritage is that of our enemies. What would they think of me now? My duty to them, to my King—I am failing on all fronts.
We continue our journey in a tense, heavy silence. The unspoken truth of her magic is a chasm between us. With every step, my thoughts are a torment. Are my brothers alive? Are they wounded, alone, fighting for their lives in this hostile world while I walk beside the source of my distraction? My failure as a leader is a heavier burden than any mountain. After two days,our meager food supply dwindles to nothing, and the gnawing in my gut is a dull echo of the sharp-toothed guilt in my soul.
The hunger is a sharp, persistent ache, but it is the weakness I see growing in her that drives me. I spot a thin curl of smoke against the grey sky, a sign of civilization. It is an outpost, a rough, dangerous-looking collection of buildings carved directly into the face of a cliff. A necessary, and terrible, risk. I find a defensible position for Diana in a cluster of rocks overlooking the settlement, a place where she can see anyone approaching.
“Stay here,” I said, my voice low and firm. “Do not move from this spot until I return.”
She nods, expressing a fear that I share. I spend the next hour scouting the outpost from the ridge. I see hard-faced human traders, a hulking Minotaur mercenary, and a patrol of dark elves, their cruel faces and elegant armor a jarring sight in this crude place. The sight of the elves makes my blood run cold. They are the enemy we came here to face, the slavers who control the crystal caves. Are my brothers facing patrols like this one right now? Is Tarek’s strength enough against their magic? Is Ronan’s fire being extinguished by their cruelty? The thought of them captured, tortured by these sadistic beings, fuels a helpless rage within me.
I must go down there. Not just for food, but for information. Any rumor, any whisper of other manticores seen in this land, would be a sliver of hope I desperately need. I will go in alone, under the cover of darkness. I cannot risk her, but I must risk myself for any chance, however small, of finding my brothers.
As night falls, I slip into the outpost. The air is thick with the smell of cheap ale, roasting meat, and unwashed bodies. I move like a ghost through the shadows, my objective to trade a small silver buckle from my armor for food and, more importantly, to listen. I find a crude tavern and blend into a dark corner, my senses on high alert. I am listening for any mention ofthe crystals, of Northern Rach, of strange, lion-like beasts with wings. But the conversation I overhear freezes the blood in my veins.
“Did you hear?” one trapper said to another.
“About the bounty?” the second said.
“Aye. The witches up in the peaks. Looking for some girl they lost,” the first said.
Two human trappers are talking about a bounty. A bounty placed by the Purna coven from the nearby mountains. They are looking for their "stolen prize," a half-breed girl of immense power. And they have placed a magical trace on her. My focus snaps from my brothers to the woman hiding on the ridge. They are not just running from a memory; they are being actively hunted by a magic we cannot see.
I retreat from the outpost, the need for food forgotten. A terrible choice now stands before me. My duty and my vow to my brothers is in the north. But my mate, the woman my soul has claimed, is right here, and she is the target of a relentless, magical hunt. To protect her, I must abandon my mission and my brothers. To pursue my mission, I must abandon her. Every path leads to a different kind of failure, a different kind of betrayal. It is a crushing, impossible burden.
18
DIANA
Ihuddle in the darkness, my body wedged between two large, cold boulders. From this hiding place, I can see the flickering torchlight of the outpost below, a hive of dangerous activity that makes my skin crawl. Corvak has been gone for what feels like an eternity, and with every passing moment, the fragile sense of safety I felt in his presence erodes, replaced by a cold, familiar fear. The sounds from the settlement—a burst of rough laughter, the sharp crack of a whip, a sudden angry shout—all remind me that the world outside our small, sheltered cave is a place of casual brutality.
My mind is a turmoil. The revelation of my own magic, the power that exploded from me is a terrifying new reality. I am part Purna. I am part of the evil that destroyed my family and stole my life. The thought is a bitter poison, a self-hatred so profound it threatens to swallow me whole. And now, Corvak, the one who saved me, is down there, in that viper’s nest, all because I am too weak to provide for myself. I am a burden, a liability.
When he finally returns, moving like a shadow up the mountainside, the relief that washes over me is so intense itmakes me dizzy. But it is short-lived. I see his face in the moonlight, and my heart plummets. His expression is grim, his jaw set like stone, and the quiet hope that had begun to blossom in my chest withers and dies. He brings with him no food, no supplies. He brings only bad news.
He sits before me, his powerful form radiating a tense, controlled anger. He does not waste time with pleasantries.
“What is it?” I asked. “What did you hear?”
