Page 5 of My Brutal Beast

They did this to me somehow. I try to play the night back over in my mind, and it dawns on me that they must have spiked my drink.

“Hey, Cassie,” Palmer says as he closes the distance between us. “Looks like you could use a little help getting home, huh?”

“Stop!” My voice is barely a whisper, but it’s fueled by every ounce of strength I have left. I struggle against Maxton’s grip, pushing against his body. “Let me go!”

“Easy now.” Maxton snickers, tightening his hold on me. “We’re just trying to help you out.”

My tongue feels thick and swollen but I manage to say the words, “Y-you drugged me.”

“Ah, she’s smarter than she looks.” Palmer chuckles and moves to grab my arm.

Adrenaline floods my system, providing me with enough strength to shove Maxton while I try to throw my body to the ground. The move forces him to lose his grip on me, and I collapse onto the gritty asphalt.

“Damn it, Maxton!” Palmer snaps.

“Stay away from me!” I cry out as loudly as I can, but it’s no use. I can’t move. I can’t do anything to defend myself, and they know it. It hurts, knowing no one will save me. No one cares enough to. For whatever reason, the universe has decided I haven’t suffered enough.

It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair!

Suddenly, a movement catches their attention. I want to turn my head to look at it, but I can’t.

“Hey, buddy, move—”

There’s a scream. It’s a kind I’ve never heard before. The high shrill causes a violent shiver to run through my body. My eyes droop close, and when I open them again, I see threads of red. It almost looks like rain when it splatters over the pavement, but the tang and smell is metallic. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know it’s blood, but I don’t understand why.

Someone—no, something—rips their bodies apart. It tears through their muscles and sinews, spilling organs and intestines out onto the cement. Their limbs are pulled off their torsos, and Maxton’s head rolls close to me, his brown eyes wide and unblinking. Where two humans stood, there is now nothing but carnage and death.

The scene is gruesome, the corpses shred around me like paper. And yet, I feel calm and safe. Someone picks me up and cradles me against their warm chest. I can’t make out his features, but it’s a man with impossibly gray skin. Then I’m floating, and the last thing I see is the top of the bar sign before my vision fades to black.

3

CREATURE

I’m restless. It feels as though a thousand ants are crawling underneath my skin, and no matter what I do, I can’t make it stop. Finally, I succumb to the one thing that has always brought me peace—soaring through the night. Yet the stretch of my wings and the brush of air against my skin do nothing to settle me. It’s as if I’m being pulled toward something, and with every passing moment, it escalates. But when I see her, everything makes sense.

Her soul is pure light, sparkling, immaculate. In all my years, I have never seen anything like it. She is a kaleidoscope of colors, equally bright and glowing, and her darkness is just as pure. It isn’t the cruel thing I’ve fought against for a mega-annum; it is a darkness that only serves to highlight her, to showcase her beauty even more brilliantly. And it calls to me. She calls to me, like the gravitational pull of the sun.

When I finally look away from the vision of her soul, I see that she is just as stunning. A mass of wild, dark brown hair cascades to her waist, perfect for me to slip my hands into when I kiss her, fuck her. Her body is a glorious thing made to be worshipped. I would get on my knees daily—no, I would live on them for the simple blessing of touching her, tasting between her soft thighs. I want them wrapped around my head, my hips, as I thrust into her. I want to consume her; I want her to consume me. The feeling of lust is so overwhelming it steals my breath.

My vantage point robs me of the ability to see more of her, something that I immediately want to rectify. But then I see them. Two men with void souls are trying to assault my woman. Even if I did not abide by the rules of my creator to exterminate darkness, I would still kill them. They are not fit to touch her, to be in her presence, to even gaze upon her. And for their crimes, I destroy them.

I deal with the one who touched her first—led someone so radiant, someone who should be treasured, into a trap—and make him scream the loudest. I rip his hand clean off and break his ribs, puncturing his lungs. He can’t breathe, and that pleases me, but it isn’t enough. His companion trembles in obvious shock and fear, urine running down his leg. He opens his mouth to beg, as if it might save him.

I rip their limbs from their bodies, flaying their torsos wide open. I tear at their skin, rupture their organs, and slash their heads clean off. It is over in less than two minutes, but the simmering in my blood lives on. The darkness within me begs to feast on their flesh, their bones, and I want to. I want to allow it to take me over, but my woman is lying on the filthy ground, and she deserves better.

I slip my arms under her body and cradle her to my chest. My little star is so tiny compared to me, so soft and delicate.

I’m going to keep her. It doesn’t matter when or how, only that she will be mine. She was always meant to be mine, just as I was always meant to be hers.

I pick up her glasses, loop her bag around my neck, and take off, leaving the evidence of my retribution behind.

* * *

My little star is still unconscious when we arrive home. As gently as I can, I lay her on the bed in one of the spare bedrooms. Her skin is pale, and her breathing is shallow and labored. She has several scrapes on her arms and a bruise where one of the men grabbed her. She is covered in dirt and grit, and I lift my hand and carefully run one claw over her cheek, wiping away the sediment.

My instincts scream at me to erase these reminders from her skin. But I can’t do that in my original form. When I think of what I saw tonight it makes me want to roar, to obliterate something, anything—everything. It is what my body is built for, but right now my little star needs kindness, not my claws.

I shift into the form I use for human dealings. My grayish skin becomes pale, my claws and talons retract into human fingers and toes, my sclera turns from black to white, and my irises from luminescent white to a dark brown. But I do not hide my wings or tail from her. Truthfully, I wish to hide nothing from her, but I’ve seen the way my prey look at me when I hunt them. I’ve seen the shock and fear in their eyes, and I do not want that for my little star. I want her to never fear anything again, especially me.

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