Even as fury burned in Eliora's chest, even as the memory of flames swallowing her village haunted her, another emotion warred inside her, one she despised far more than her anger.
She yearned for him.
For the strange, calming warmth that washed over her when he was near. For the intoxicating feel of his touch.
And she hated herself for it.
She hated that her heart reacted to him before her mind could protest.
She hated that she was drawn to the Beast King, irrevocably, helplessly, despite everything she believed he had taken from her.
She had no control over this pull, this traitorous longing that made her feel weak.
Just then, a sound ripped through the air, deep, violent, trembling.
A roar. His roar.
Eliora froze. It echoed again. And again.
The sound vibrated through her bones, gripping her chest so tightly she struggled to breathe.
He had lost control. Again.
She shot to her feet.
Without thinking, she grabbed a shawl from Maelina's table, pulling it over her hair and half her face. Her hands trembled, but her legs moved on their own.
She had to find him.
No, she shouldn't. She knew that. She should hide. She should stay far away from the beast who destroyed her life. But the bond throbbed, hot and urgent, dragging her forward.
She slipped out of Maelina's chamber into the corridor, only to find utter chaos.
Servants sprinted for safety, some crying. Human pushed others aside in panic. Even some of the palace beasts, massive, clawed, fierce, were retreating, their eyes wide with fear.
When they noticed her heading the opposite way, urgent voices rose around her, "Hey! Run! The king, he's losing control!"
"He's breaking through the palace walls, you can't go there!"
"The seers and generals are trying to contain him but they're failing!"
But their warnings fell on deaf ears.
"Girl, are you mad? Go the other way!"
Her feet didn't stop. Couldn't stop.
Every roar tore through her chest like it was calling specifically to her and Eliora found herself doing the last thing any sane person would do.
Instead of running away from the monster, she ran straight toward him.
The corridor opened into the vast training field and Eliora froze.
Destruction.
Buildings dismantled. Pillars cracked. The ground itself ripped open like a wound.
A man she recognized now as Commander Aldric, towering and broad, was on his knees, blood dripping from a gash down his chest.
Several soldiers lay unconscious. Even Maelina and a circle of royal seers were coughing blood, drained to the bones.
Before Eliora could react, Zarek's head snapped toward her.
He caught her scent.
He let out a roar so powerful the air vibrated.
Aldric rose to his feet instantly, shouting across the field, "Run! Girl, run!"
She didn't. Her body refused to listen.
As Aldric tried to reach her, Maelina grabbed Aldric's arm.
"No. Let her," she rasped. "This… this might be our only chance to save them both."
Zarek moved.
One heartbeat he was several yards away, the next he was there, right in front of her, the massive king, his eyes were glowing a feral, burning red.
His claws were fully extended, fangs long and sharp, his body half-covered in thick beast skin.
He growled like a creature wrestling with itself.
Eliora trembled, but not with fear.
Something deeper pulled her forward. Before she could second guess it, her hand lifted and she touched his face.
His skin was cold. Shock flickered in his eyes, as if he was struggling or.... recognizing her.
A beast in full rage should have turned fully animal by now.
But Zarek hadn't.
He stayed half-human. Because of her or because of his curse. Not one being knew his true beast form.
Slowly, he leaned in.
His breath touched her neck. Then, with surprising gentleness for a creature capable of ripping buildings apart, he dipped his head and caught the edge of her scarf between his fangs.
He tugged.
The fabric slipped free, falling to the floor, revealing her hair.
Zarek stilled.
He stared at her like she hung the stars and held the moonlight in her palms.
A collective gasp rippled through the field.
Seers. Soldiers. Generals. Even Aldric, battered and wounded, froze in open shock.
Only Maelina remained composed. She had seen Eliora's face before.
But the others, they stared like they were witnessing the unveiling of something sacred.
Eliora, illuminated under the broken sunlight, breathless, her beauty struck them silent.
Zarek's reaction was immediate.
A deep, territorial growl tore from his chest.
He stepped closer, placing himself between Eliora and the watching eyes as if to shield her from their admiration.
His clawed thumb went down her cheek, tracing the soft line of her jaw as though committing her face to memory.
Then he bent his head, lowering his face to her throat, right where the seal marked her.
He inhaled. Ashudder rolled through him.
His other hand slid to her waist. He touched her everywhere possible, her face, her wrist, her hair, as though reassuring himself she was real.
Eliora's breath hitched.
Her fingers brushed through the thick skin along his arm.
That was all it took.
The raging aura around him softened. His beast, an unstoppable force moments ago, went strangely still.
The seers lowered their hands. Aldric stared, speechless. The soldiers watched with wide eyes.
Slowly, the skin across Zarek's arms and torso began to retract.
His claws shortened. His breath steadied. But his fangs remained.
And his eyes, they stayed fixed on her.
When he spoke, his voice was husky, "Mine." He nuzzled closer, inhaling her again. "Mine."
Suddenly, without warning, those massive arms slid beneath her knees and back.
Before Eliora could blink, he lifted her, he gathered her as though she were made of silk, holding her close to his chest.
Eliora's breath caught.
She should have struggled. She should have screamed. She should have pushed him away.
But she didn't. She couldn't.
Because for the first time in days, the burning fever inside her chest eased. Her body relaxed against him without permission, like it belonged there.
Without a single word to the others, he turned and walked away from the devastated field.
Beasts and humans alike parted like a tide, making sure to bow their head, they were too stunned to even whisper.
No one dared follow.
The king carried his soulmate through the passageway.
Every few steps, he would glance down at her, as if afraid she might disappear.
Eliora kept her gaze lowered, unable to meet his eyes, unable to understand the storm inside her chest.
He reached a heavy door and pushed it open with one hand; the private wing of the palace.
Zarek's wing.
He didn't take her into his room. Instead, he crossed to the room directly opposite his own.
Her new room.
And with the same impossible gentleness he had shown on the field, Zarek lowered her onto the large bed, his hand lingered at her waist until he was certain she was steady.
Only then did she realize, his fangs were gone. The red in his eyes had dimmed to their usual molten amber.
Zarek was back in control.
He knelt before the bed, chest rising and falling with uneven breaths, as though fighting the remnants of his beast.
Eliora's pulse hammered as she stared at him, this man, this monster, this king who terrified the world, kneeling in front of her.
Her voice barely rose above a whisper.
"Your Majesty?"
He lifted his head slightly, as he did, his eyes searched hers, hungry, conflicted, worshipful.
But he didn't touch her again.
He breathed her in, fighting the instinct to claim her, to hold her again.
Then, hoarsely, he spoke, "Stay."