Falling in Love with the King of Beasts

RETH

He stood in the middle of the now-empty storage Tree that had no windows, eyeing the wolf in front of him held by two of his guards. Two of his guards who had strong stomachs, and liked to use their fists.

The male between them had his teeth bared, but he sagged from where they held him at the armpits. He was relatively young—probably twenty—but big and strong, in both body and mind. He'd been forced to submit when Reth walked in, but somehow he had since held out on giving Reth answers, despite the drug Aymora had provided that made his words slur occasionally, and stopped his eyes fixing properly on anything.

"This is the last time I'll ask," Reth snarled through his teeth. "How did you reach the cave without being detected?"

The wolf kept his chin down, his teeth bared, but his eyes locked on Reth. His breath made his shoulders heave, but he couldn't even stand without wavering thanks to the drugs. Unfortunately, as his body failed him, his mind seemed to only get stronger.

"Answer me, Pup!" Reth growled.

The wolf spat on the ground. "NO!"

Reth let his lip curl up to show his teeth and stalked across the space between them, his hands clenching and unclenching.

"The only value you have, dog, is in information. If you will not give it, or cannot, you give me no reason to keep you alive."

The male chuckled coldly. "Big words for a soft King."

Reth smiled the smile he saved for prey. "You think me soft?" he asked quietly.

"Soft for your mate, soft for your people, too soft to even attack your enemies—you had to send the Bears to do your dirty work for you."

"Oh, no, that's not it at all," Reth said, still smiling. He prowled right up to the prisoner, grabbing a fistful of his hair and leaning down into his face. "I was just saving my hard parts for you," he muttered, then pulled the male forward in the same moment he snapped his knee up into the male's ribs.

Coughing and choking, the male sagged between the guards, who both grinned, but kept him upright.

"How did you get up there?" Reth asked again.

The wolf male wheezed. "You'll never… learn it from me."

"Then you, sir, are going to have a very, very unpleasant afternoon," Reth said, and smiled, showing his canines.

Then he looked to the guards. "Release him and hold the door so he can't escape."

The Guards looked at each other, then let the male go—who immediately fell to his hands and knees, still sucking in air as his body tried to recover from the blow.

While the guards positioned themselves before the door, Reth paced back and forth in front of the man.

"So you've heard the stories about the soft King. The merciful King. The one who does as he pleases and charms everyone into submission, is that it?" he asked quietly.

"The whimpering, childish King who cannot bear a challenge and tore out the throat of my Alpha because my Alpha didn't recognize his mate? Yes."

Reth chuckled. "Your Alpha—excuse me, former Alpha, Creator take his soul—wasn't killed because he didn't recognize my mate. He was killed because he tried to kill her—and he wasn't strong enough to do it."

The wolf said nothing his jaw hard, despite the way his eyes blinked and widened and he shook his head because of the drugs—and probably the lack of oxygen, too.

"You have been lied to, dog," Reth snarled. "I don't expect you to believe me, though you'd be right to. The rumors of my honest are true. But hear me on this, your only chance for survival is to be a traitor to your rebel King. I will not fill you with false tales of allowing you the freedom to return to Lerrin. Or of living among us in peace. No. The wolves underestimated my appetite for war," he lied. "And I fear you may have, perhaps, underestimated my appetite in general."

The wolf was still struggling a little to breathe. Reth paused. "Do you know," he said softly, "I haven't let my beast hunt in months."

The wolf blinked again and tensed, but didn't say anything.

"The difficulty I have is that often once he catches the scent of blood, I struggle to wrestle back control. Have you ever experienced that, dog?" he growled.

The wolf looked him, still wheezing, but didn't say anything.

"It's a pity," Reth said, "because so often, by the time I regain control, he's already eaten half the kill, and I don't get to enjoy it at all." He paced back to stand before the man on the ground, then knelt right in front of him, grabbed his hair, and pulled his head up. "So, let me warn you now: If you do not speak and give me the answers I need, prepare to have your limbs eaten—he likes the thighs and buttocks the most, but it's entirely possible he'll take a chunk right out of your stomach. You see, he's an animal. And they're so practical, as you know. He actually prefers it if you don't die quickly. Because he likes fresh meat. And it doesn't get fresher than eating you alive."

The wolf's eyes widened.

But Reth didn't stop. "So, my warning to you is this: If you do not answer me now, while I remain completely here, when he starts to eat your leg and you change your mind and want me to come back, it may take some time." He frowned then, pretending the thought had just occurred to him. "Have you ever heard a lion crunch through a thigh bone? It's quite impressive… Though I imagine the effect will be lost on you since you'll be, you know, screaming."

The wolf paled, to Reth had to respect that he didn't speak or protest. And he hadn't wet himself. Not yet anyway.

"Last chance," he said softly.

The wolf pulled his head up, his entire body wavering slightly, but then he sneered. "You don't scare me."

Reth shrugged. Perhaps not. But perhaps this will.

Then he shifted into his beast.