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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 · Fantasie
Zu wenig Bewertungen
699 Chs

A Time to Kill

ELIA

The rage in his eyes was terrifying, but if she was going to die tonight, it wasn't going to be with blood on her hands.

So, with trembling knees, she stared him down, gulping when his eyes flashed and for a moment she thought she was staring into the eyes of a lion.

Unable to hold the penetrating gaze, she looked at the fur-woman, crumpled at her feet. Elia knew she'd be sore the next day, that fall had been awkward and the ground was hard. But she'd felt her elbow come down as she reached out to catch herself. She'd taken the women in the temple. It was an accident, but it felled her like a tree.

"Kill. Her," the King snarled, the last word guttering in his throat like the big cat he reminded her of.

Elia looked down at the woman again. There was no doubt she deserved to die. Elia had just watched her kill several other women.

She could feel the eyes of the watchers on the back of her neck. But she took another step away from the woman and shook her head. "I'm not going to kill her."

The crowd gasped, but no one said a word, and Elia felt their attention shift to their leader.

As did he.

He seemed to swell under the scrutiny, he pulled his shoulders and head back, though his chin stayed low. "You would exchange your life for the life of a proud woman who would have torn out your throat without a second thought? You do not know what you do," he barked through his teeth.

Elia shivered but forced herself to hold his gaze. "I don't even know where I am! But I know life and I know murder." She pointed at the fur-painted woman. "If I have to die tonight, I'll do it with a clear conscience—unlike her."

The words were barely out of her mouth when the gathered people poured out their disgust in an overwhelming roar made up of shrieks, howls, bleats, and hisses. If the man in front of her were any less compelling—or less obviously in charge—Elia would have whirled to make sure they didn't come at her back. But the man didn't even look at them, though his massive shoulders heaved with his breath and his hands clenched to fists at his side.

He lifted one hand, bare inches, and the noise stopped, though Elia could hear the people moving now, hissing their dissatisfaction to each other now that he'd commanded them to stop yelling at her.

She swallowed hard, and the King's eyes narrowed. She would have sworn that look of recognition passed behind his eyes again, but his expression didn't change. He huffed a breath and she thought he would speak, but suddenly there was noise to her left and she turned to find a man running hunched over, teeth bared, snarling, "You will not shame my sister!"

Still twenty feet from her, the man leaped and, in the dark, he looked for a moment as if his limbs had become legs, his hands were paws, and his open mouth grew fangs that flashed in the moonlight as they came for her throat.