Falling in Love with the King of Beasts

LET'S CELEBRATE! IT'S MY BIG DAY: A WHOLE NEW BOOK, A WHOLE NEW WORLD, A WHOLE NEW HERO! Check out the excerpt at the end of this chapter (added after the chapter was published so you aren't charged for the words). I hope you love Zev as much as I do!

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LERRIN

He hadn't seen Reth since they left the clearing, Lerrin's people in tow… no, not his people. Reth's people, that he loved and watched over. Lerrin had spent countless hours since just staring at the wall wondering what would become of him. At times death seemed like it would have been a relief and he wondered if this was the Creator's last punishment—to bring him through his own sin healthy and strong so that he was forced to face it. 

Then, last night, faint scents and sounds of the feast reached him even through the thick walls of the Tree. At first they were successful in buffeting him, reminding him of what he'd lost, what he yearned for.

But then he remembered… he had never really yearned to be Alpha.  Not in the way of the WildWood.

For a time he lost himself in thinking about what he would do if he could. If there were no limits. No responsibilities. No expectations.

What would he have done with his life if he had a choice?

Images of that cave in the side of a mountain, of vast forests and plains empty of Anima. Of his own pack, the pups running to him to be comforted, to be protected.

Of his mate, turning to him in the furs—

But he'd seen her face then, a part of the vision he'd never had to endure before. And he hated her for it. Hated her, in that moment, for stealing his peace. For her lies and her deception. For not being the female he'd thought her to be. For allowing him to let his guard down for the first time. For showing her beauty, but not revealing the darkness behind it. 

He'd shuddered and rolled over on the floor, pulling the thin blanket over his shoulder and he had closed his mind and gone to sleep. 

Then woken in the early hours of the morning this morning and been unable to sleep further.

And so, he stared at the walls and watched for the moment when the morning sun finally reached the high window above him. 

When the handle on the door turned, adrenalin shot through his system. His father had held prisoners before. He knew what could happen to them when the victors got bored or angry. So whenever that door opened he was always on his feet in a defensive stance, and ready.

Except… this time the guards only peered around the door to check that he hadn't ambushed them. Then they disappeared and her scent hit him before she appeared, a much smaller figure, carrying a tray, with the white hood of servitude pulled low over her hair and eyes.

The storm within him threatened to tear him in two.

One half of his heart sang, leaping for joy at the sight and smell of her. It pushed him forward, his hands twitching to reach for her. Begged to know if she was safe and healthy. How she had fared returning to the City. 

But the other half of him was a roiling storm—thunder crashing, lightning bolts of jagged anger that lit up the rest of him and made his hands yearn for a throat.

She knew none of this, of course, as she walked across to him, carrying the tray that held his breakfast—and a much nicer breakfast than he'd been given any other day. 

She also had a small basket over her elbow, but he forced himself to look away as she set everything on the ground, then approached him, slowly, with just the tray. 

"Your breakfast," she said, barely above a whisper. She held out the tray and after a moment he took it from her.

He didn't begin on it, though his stomach grumbled at the scent of the food—still warm, if he didn't miss his guess. And some of his favorites. The raisin scones he'd always taken extra of when they were made by the cooks. And some of the salted pork that cooked in slices.

"I… I tried to bring the things I know you enjoy," she said in that hushed voice. She still hadn't lifted her head. He couldn't decide if that was a mercy or not. When he didn't speak, her throat bobbed. "I also brought cloths and a small bucket of water," she said, her voice faltering. I'm sorry it's not warm, but I wasn't allowed… I know how you like to be clean. I'm sorry it isn't a bath. But I will request—"

"That won't be necessary," he growled.

She startled and it pained him to see her body flinch that way, but he didn't say anything. 

They stood there a moment, her staring at her feet, him staring at her. Then she turned around and picked up the basket she'd had on her elbow and began to pull things out of it. A large, thick jar with a wide cork that held clear water. Four thick cloths. And a small bar of soap. 

"I'm sorry it isn't more," she whispered when she'd laid them on the floor at his feet. "It is the best I could do."

"You can go. I don't need a servant," he snapped.

Her shoulders dropped. "I do not serve you, Lerrin," she said hesitantly. "My devotion is for the Creator. But he has… tasked me with caring for my ma—"

"Leave."

The little intake of breath was a blade between his ribs. He thought she would go. But instead she lifted her head, her hood falling back far enough to reveal her clear, bright eyes—and the pain and tension behind them. 

He swallowed. He wanted to snarl at her to leave him alone. To stop staring at him. To stop showing him the light that burned in her eyes—the hope she still held! The desire!

He could not stomach it.

He broke the gaze and looked down at the cleaning things she'd brought for him. "Thank you," he ground out. 

"I could—" she reached for his buttons as she had done for months, to help him remove his clothing so he could wash, but he sucked in a breath and jerked himself back a step. Then another. 

"Do not touch me."

A small shiver travelled the length of her spine, and he hated himself for the reminder to her. 

With a muttered curse, he said, "Suhle, I didn't mean—"

"I know," she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. She forced a small smile. "I only grieve because it is my calling, my purpose in life to serve you, Lerrin," she said simply. "I would take joy in assisting you—"

"No!" he barked, and stepped away again. "Please. leave. I am… I am grateful for your thoughtfulness, but I do not need assistance. I will clean myself and leave the things near the door so they can be picked up again later. By whoever comes next."

  "That… that would be fine," she said carefully. "I will pick them up when I bring your lunch."

"You don't need to do that personally," he muttered. "Any servant will do."

The tiniest corner of that light in her eyes snuffed out, but her smile only faltered for a moment. "The others don't wish to serve the wolf king," she said. "But I do."

He stared at her, unable to think how to respond to that. 

Then she bowed, tugged her hood up over her eyes again, and turned around and left.

*****

NEW BOOK OUT NOW! My entirely new character and world is now live! It's still in the process of being vetted by NovelFull, but you can find it if you search "Rise of the Dark Alpha":

Zev prowled towards her, all shining, brutal beauty, his chin low and those incredible, piercing eyes fixed on her. He didn't stop until they were toe-to-toe and he blocked her view of every other male in the circle. 

His eyes dipped to her mouth as he leaned in, his whisper playing on her skin. 

"You. Are. Mine." 

His deep voice twanged in her belly as the howls of the wolf pack rose from behind him to echo across the mountains of Thana, while the other Chimera protested his claim. 

Fighting the urge to stroke his broad, bare chest with her shaking hands, Sasha forced herself to tilt her head and raise an eyebrow. "So bold for a pup who just found his fangs."

The other males hooted with laughter.

Ignoring their taunts, Zev's eyes sparked and he leaned even closer, the scruff on his jaw tickling her cheek as he smiled. "So bold for a human who already knows the pleasure of gasping my name."

She shivered when his teeth grazed her ear. 

(SEE THE FULL SUMMARY IN THE AUTHOR NOTE BELOW)