48 Kill a Monster

Book Two

Prologue

Third Person P.O.V

The Beast stared down at his soul, almost mesmerized, almost disbelieving.

They were long deep into the woods now, the massacre he'd left behind him long forgotten.

Despite the blood on her neck and the tears glistening on her ruddy cheeks, she still looked lovely to The Beast.

Her face was softly lit by the moonlight, a slight crease on her brow as she slept restlessly in his arms. Her long black hair almost as dark as his stayed matted with blood that was not her own.

Thankfully, her chest rose and fell with steady breaths.

Even now, as The Beast stood at his massive height, muscles still tense, shaking with the overwhelming instincts to crush and destroy, his mind still reeling with raw bloodlust.

Yet, The Feral Beast knew that he could never hurt her. He could never hurt his mate.

The Beast held her with a gentle possessiveness that should not have been attainable for a wolf gone completely feral.