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Falling in Love with the King of Beasts

[COMPLETE] Reth stalked towards her, chin low so the shadow cast by his hard jaw cut across the thick fur collar of his vest. His hair had fallen over his eyes in the scuffle, so he peered at her through it like a lion in the grass. With each step, his graceful, rolling gait reminded her of a predator stalking its prey. Despite the forest floor littered in twigs and leaves, he didn’t make a sound. “Wh-who are you?” Elia stammered, backing away, her hands up. He met her step for step until she came up hard against the tree behind her—and didn’t stop until he loomed over her, so broad his shoulders and chest made a wall in front of her. She could feel the heat rising off his skin in the cool, night air. “I am the Leonine King.” His voice was a dark, husky gravel. Behind him a chorus of wheezes, howls, and chirps of agreement rose from the people watching. “And you are?” “Elia,” she breathed. “Elia,” he growled, leaning in closer, bringing with him the scent of pine and rain and the musk of something distinctly male. “I am Reth.” He said the name with a strange, guttural roll in his throat. “I am the King of Beasts. I am Clan Leader, and I am Alpha of WildWood.” Several snarls rose from the crowds behind him then, but he ignored them. Elia swallowed as he leaned in until the scruff on his jaw rasped her cheek. “I am the King,” he said, “And you will be my mate.” The forest behind him erupted. ****** Elia is a poor university student until the night she's taken to the world of the Anima—ruled by humans whose ancient hearts pulse with the blood of animals. There she's forced into a battle to the death. But when Elia survives, and refuses to kill her final opponent, the King must either kill Elia himself, or take her as his mate. Reth, the brutal King of the Beasts with the blood of lions, shocks everyone when he chooses the weak, human Elia to become his Queen. He promises her every comfort of his wealth and position—but he is clear: She will not warm his bed. He chose her to defeat those that were trying to corner him into blending his Leonine line with the Wolves. Elia needs the help of the Anima to become stronger and rule them well. But the vengeful Wolves see only a weak human that brought them shame. As Elia and Reth grow closer, the wolves are determined to destroy her. Will Reth and Elia admit their feelings for each in time to fight for the Kingdom—and their lives—against the villainous wolf-tribe? Or will the wolves kill Elia and steal the throne? [Mature content - no sexual violence] Cover Art used by paid copyright permission. Illustrated by Aenaluck--see more gorgeous art and support them on www.patreon.com/aenaluck

AimeeLynn · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
699 Chs

Show Yourself

RETH

The look on her face set his teeth—like a cub that had lost its pride and saw its own death in the winds. Which, in a way, he supposed was true. She'd unbuttoned three buttons on the silky shirt she wore before she looked up and met his eyes.

His eyes widened and he turned quickly back to the closet. "Apologies."

She gave a little huff that was laced with humor and he grinned, though he prayed she couldn't tell. The sound of her clothing combined with the smell of her soon worked on his body—already taut with the tensions of the night, and knowing what was to come. As he pulled his kilt out of the closet and began to wrap it around his waist, he spoke more to cover the sounds of her, than because he needed to say it.

"Being my mate will come with great responsibility, but it will also provide you a great deal," he said quietly. "Humans in Anima live longer than those in their own world. And as my Queen you can live out your days here—you will not be required to share a home with a pride, or work for your living. You will be free to pursue whatever you were made to do."

"What if I don't know what I was made to do?" she said in a small voice. "Nevermind, don't answer that. I need to stop looking ahead because right now it's hard enough to figure out what I'm supposed to do right now. Tell me about this wedding ceremony or whatever it is. What will I have to do? Is it anything like our weddings on…where I'm from?"

He chuckled. "No. Nothing like those," he said. "The mating ceremony is… a declaration of intention. In our world, nothing worth having is gained without fighting for it."

"Fighting—?"

"Not in the way you think, don't worry," he reassured her. She'd stopped moving at the word, so he put his hands up and cursed that he couldn't turn around to soothe her. "I didn't mean to frighten you. The ceremony is… theater. It has its roots in our animal ancestry, but the intention is to ensure everyone knows who belongs to who. Think of it as the Anima equivalent of an engagement ring: Whoever sees it knows you're taken."

"Why do you sound like you want to laugh?" she said darkly. "Are you messing with me?"

"Not at all," he assured her. "I was actually thinking of Lucan's face when he watches me kiss you."

"Kiss?!"

Reth clawed his hand through his hair and cursed himself for speaking without thinking. "Like a wedding kiss, Elia. A…. a statement of our union. Something to show the other males that you aren't to be touched. That is all."

Elia shoved out a breath and muttered something he chose not to hear. "Anything else? What do I have to do?"

"You simply have to choose me," he said, his voice gruffer than he'd intended, the idea much more prickly than he'd realized. "When the time comes, if I have protected you, if I have shown myself worthy, you just have to choose me over the others."

"Worthy? On what planet would you not be worthy of me? Surely you mean it the other way around?"

He started to turn at the pure shock in her voice, then caught himself, his hands clenched to fists. He needed to see her, to read her, to think through his words.

"You can turn around," she said with sigh.

"Thank you," he rumbled and turned. "The worthiness is only a matter of—" he'd kept his eyes down, just in case, planned to give her space if she was feeling self-conscious in the clothing that was much more revealing than what she'd apparently been used to. He'd expected her to be shrinking in on herself, covering herself with her hands, or at least looking uncomfortable.

Instead, when he lifted his gaze he found a proud woman standing with her feet shoulder width apart, fur hugging her breasts and an angled fur across her hips and thighs that was just snug enough to hint at the curves underneath. But instead of positioning herself with the loose, suggestive air that most women would have adopted if they'd stood in his bedroom dressed like that, she stood with her hands on her hips—which only emphasized her waist—and stared at him with a set jaw and a light in her eyes that made him wary when he saw it in any female. It was a look that said he'd pay if he said the wrong thing.