The Beast & His Beauty Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Virgin Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 74631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
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All I can think is that they will not take her. I’ll kill them all.

They knew better than to dare come to my gate.

The beast roars again. I am not certain if I’m making the same sound that floods my ears, but an ache in my throat tells me I might be. A small part of me does not want Elle to hear this and become afraid, but I cannot stop it.

The people at the gate do not have good intentions. Their hatred is palpable.

From the window I can see that there are at least six of them, perhaps eight. I do not want to take my eyes off them, but I do so I can storm through the halls and reach the front entrance of the castle.

I burst out into the cold night air with a roar. This time, I hear the sound echo off the wall and come back to me. It’s not enough to make the people at the gate—the attackers—turn and run. The beast did not expect it to, but the parts of me that are still human hoped their fear of the beast would end this before it truly began.

But they are determined and do not flee back to the trees. Anger floods my veins. There’s something in my castle they want, and it can’t be anything other than Elle. My Elle. Mine. She is the most valuable thing. More precious than all the food in my stores or the gold in my treasury. I would not even care to replace most of the other things in the castle.

Elle cannot be replaced. She cannot even be compared. There is no one else like her in the world, and I will not lose her to the mob. They’ve already taken enough.

Possessiveness fuels me to blindly charge across the front entry with fury flooding my veins. I should have known they would come looking for her. I should have known they would realize her value only after she was gone. As I approach the gate, this is confirmed when a man steps up closest to the iron. His face is etched in arrogance and his teeth are bared as he screams for Elle. He dares speak her name.

It’s Lord Crawe.

A darkness spreads through me, cracking my bones as I charge while another murderous growl tears out of my throat. This man dares to challenge me at the gates of my own home.

How did they know?

Something must have given her away. Given me away. Perhaps it was only that the paper was too fine to have been from some other country village. It was the plainest paper the castle had to offer, and there was no other mark on it. If this is because of Elle’s note at all⁠—

It can’t be. It can’t be. If the magic delivered the letter, then it was slipped under her father’s door or sent in through a crack in an open window, not hovering outside waiting for him.

This is the magic’s doing. I know it deep in my soul. It wants me to fight for her and I will do more than that.

The beast roars with unrestrained rage as we near the gate. Neither of us can forget the last time villagers came here with evil intent. I remember it so clearly, though the beast was in control then, doing all he could to get my body to safety. He could hardly growl as he killed, defending himself, trying to stay alive. He snarls now with the terrible pain of those memories and how he was chased and beaten and hated, marked for death even though he hadn’t killed anyone and had only wanted the village’s help.

His rage and determination overpower all the caution I could have given him. I am pushed to the back and the beast is in full control.

This is so needless. It doesn’t have to be like this. Let me have my one peace. My one love. My Elle.

In a single breath of hauntingly cold air, the beast speeds toward the gate; the last few feet fall away as he runs with all the power of his corded muscled body. The beast’s bloodlust surges as we reach the gate and let out a final earth-shattering roar. Two men try to climb the iron gate. They have succeeded in reaching the top and throw themselves over, landing on their feet in front of me.

That’s not good enough. I need all of them, because once I start to kill, I will not stop.

Once the beast starts to kill, he will not stop.

They’ve brought torches burning into the night and swords and batons of steel, but the beast’s vengeance is stronger than any weapon they could forge. I almost feel pity for the unwise souls until I see his face—Crawe.

Another roar escapes without my conscious consent, and the magic understands that I want to let them through the gate. I do not want to do this because I think they will run from me and get away from the castle. I do it because the gate is no longer protecting me. It is an obstacle between me and my task.


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