The Beast watched you warily, armed only with his twitching fingers and a slight grimace. Surely, what he'd just said had been a joke. You weren't sure if a being like that was capable of humour; but now, more than ever, you were praying that he was.
"What?" You rasped, blinking dumbly at the creature before you. "What did you just say?"
The Beast swallowed hard and you couldn't help watching the movement of his throat. Everything about him was mesmerizing, from his almost shy gaze to the soft quirk of his lips- the man was a magnet. You hated the pull that he had on you, the conflict in your chest every time you laid eyes on him was unbearable.
"My kiss will numb you from the pain," the creature shifted uncomfortably. "I'd recommend you take the offer."
You gaped, leaning further away from him into the cushions behind you. The movement was not lost on him, his brows furrowing at your apprehension.
"You want me to kiss you?" You rasped, heart thrashing against your ribs with such force that you knew he could hear it. "You, my future murderer. You want me to kiss you knowing that you're eventually going to kill me."
The Beast grimaced.
"Don't flatter yourself," he hissed, casting his gaze off to the side. "It's purely for your comfort."
"My comfort?" You all but shrieked.
The monster's eyes hardened.
"No," you snarled. "I'd rather feel everything. I'd rather feel it all than taste the death of a hundred innocent fucking women on your lips."
You'd barely had time to register what you'd said before your body was ripped from its position. There was no time to scream, no time to breathe as you realized you'd been laid flat onto the couch with your arms pinned above your head.
The Beast hovered over you, the vast expanse of his figure blotting out the overhead lights from behind him, covering you in his shadow. You thrashed from beneath him but his body was tucked between your thighs, spreading them too wide to be of use.
The blazing fire in his eyes was enough to stop you in your tracks, enough to make you cower beneath him. You regretted speaking against him instantly and the instinct that screamed for you to run flared hard within your chest.
"You don't get the option."
Your heart raced at the words that brushed against your lips.
"You asked-" you whimpered but the Beast was having none of it.
"I wanted you to feel that you had the choice," he shook his head, drawing closer. "But I'm not about to brutalize you just so you can play the martyr."
Panic rose from your chest to your throat as you realized that saying "no" had never been an option. The Beast leaned down and his lips were a hairs width from yours.
"I don't want this," you whispered against him.
"Neither do I." The words sounded as broken as you felt. You knew that he spoke the truth, you could feel it in the way his grip tightened on your wrists and you saw it as he closed his eyes. "I'm sorry."
Then he kissed you.
His lips pressed against yours, the salt of your tears resting against his skin. Your nails dug into his wrists where he held you and you felt him groan against your touch. It was firm and it was quick and it was almost clinical. He didn't linger nor did he deepen, it was purely to poison you and nothing else.
As if it were on cue, your body suddenly felt light, as though gravity were no longer in effect. You were certain that, if the Beast had not been on top of you, you would have been lifted from the lounge and floated away.
He pulled away but only slightly, enough to look you in the eye. He searched your features as though he were looking for the signs of his poison taking effect but you were certain that you looked the same. In spite of your feelings, the monster seemed to be satisfied with your half-lidded gaze, dragging his sight over your lips for the briefest of moments.
"How do you feel?"
Did his voice always sound like that? He sounded like music and the promise of being swept away into the night. He sounded like romance itself. It was strange how his voice had been so soft but you'd been terrified by it. You always had a tendency to be silly and you were glad that you were thinking clearly again.
Now that you looked at him, he truly was so handsome. The saviour of Nevarro. A hero.
Your hero.
"Fine," you smiled drunkenly.
The mysterious man above you blinked in surprise.
"You," he stuttered for a moment before clearing his throat. "You won't always feel like this. The first time is a shock to the system."
You tugged on your wrists lightly, happiness fluttering in your chest when he removed his caging grip and propped his hands on either side of your head instead.
"But I like this feeling," you offered him a saccharine grin that had him swallowing nervously.
"You don't like this feeling and you don't like me," he reminded you, casting his gaze to the side briefly before turning back to you. "Eventually you will only feel the numbing component once your body adjusts."
You raised a playful brow, "what a shame."
The man shook his head with a hard exhale.
"You'll feel a pressure where I bite you," he murmured, softly brushing your hair from your neck and pulling down the collar. "The giddiness will wear off and you might begin to panic. You cannot fight me, it will trigger the predator drive."
A heavy feeling settled into the pit of your stomach as you remembered what was going on. You may have been numb but the fog clouding your mind was beginning to dissipate.
The Beast pressed his lips against your neck, your pulse thrumming beneath his mouth. You felt your heart spike in your chest and the monster began to whisper words of comfort despite his fingers gripping your chin lightly. He tilted your head away from his, giving him complete access to your throat and the veins beneath your skin.
"Beast?" you whimpered, hands gripping his arms tightly.
"Yes," he hummed, lips trailing the length of your pulse, searching for that sweet spot.
"I don't- I think…" your words faltered on your tongue when you felt him settle against your carotid artery.
"I know," the words were strained against your skin. "You're okay. You're doing great."
There was a sudden spiking pressure in your neck, the same sensation as your throat swelling or the beginnings of being choked. Warmth tickled your body and a wet sensation travelled across your shoulder.
The Beast had begun to feed.
It was like you had been drugged but awoken during surgery, feeling no pain but having to watch them pull your body apart regardless. There was a sense of detachment that came with the growing panic, enough to make you tug lightly against his grip.
"Don't move."
The words were a feral growl, unrecognisable and completely animalistic in nature. You realised again how fucking dangerous this was. Your life was completely in his hands, one of the most important arteries in your body was in his mouth and you had no means to stop him if he couldn't stop himself.
You wept softly as your body weakened beneath his grip. You had no idea how long this had been going but surely this was too much. He had said he was in control, he had said that you wouldn't die.
As your vision began to spin, you were certain that the Beast had lied.
Just as you had lost all hope, the monster groaned, frustrated and heavy and desperate. "Fuck."
He lifted his head from your ravaged neck, eyes burning a bright ruby red to match the blood smeared across his mouth. Your heart raced at the sight.
"Oh God," you sobbed, turning your head away loosely. You had no strength to turn back to face him and you didn't want to.
"No, no, don't move." The words were rough despite his attempt to comfort. His drive was still in gear and you were still very much in danger. He wanted more, the prey instinct in your body screaming that the Beast was not satisfied. You'd fed a starving man a salad and laid a feast before him that he was expected not to touch.
"Please," you begged, your body trembling violently as though you'd been left in the snow.
"Your wounds," the Beast clarified, stroking his thumb against your cheek. "Don't move because of your wounds."
Relief flooded your being when you saw his arm reach for the towels left on the table beside your head. He was wiping your blood from his face, he was trying to clean himself up so you'd withstand looking at him. The tears had stopped flowing freely but your cheeks were stil wet and you sniffled as you lay there contemplating what you'd just experienced.
Finally, he gently turned your chin towards him, your gaze following apprehensively.
"Bacta won't fix this," you whispered, reaching to touch your neck. The Beast winced, pulling your hands from your wounds before you managed to assess the damage.
"No," he agreed, placing your hand on your chest as he observed his handiwork. "I can fix it, though."
Your jaw clenched. "More kisses?"
The Best huffed softly, his lips quirking up in an almost-smile. "No."
Relief softened your features but you remained on guard for whatever else the monster could throw at you. What was next? What more could he subject you to?
"I'll have to cover your eyes for this one." The creature shrugged unapologetically. "It's a secret."
You didn't like the sound of that at all.
"And if I'd rather heal naturally?" You asked, already knowing the answer but you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted him to tell you that you had no choice, it would drive home your hatred and it would fuel your need to escape. You'd never survive this if you didn't at least try.
"I need to feed regularly and I'm not going to keep reopening the same wound." The Beast frowned. "Why wouldn't you want to be fixed?"
You gritted your teeth, ignoring the pressure in your neck that came as a consequence. The Beast's eyes flickered from the blood trickling down your shoulder back to your face but you'd seen the small lapse. How long could he go having you around in this castle before he lost control? Did all the women die after two years because of the toll his feeding habits took on their bodies?
"I don't want you to fix me." You snapped. "You don't get to rip me apart and put me back together over and over for your entertainment. Give me the formula and leave me alone."
The Beast's eyes hardened. "You'd rather me tear open your neck and leave you here to bleed by yourself?"
"Yes, if it meant that I don't have to spend another fucking second with you. In fact, I hope I bleed out and you go hungry for the next two years," you snarled.
The monster's mouth twisted into a cruel smile and your heart pounded in your chest at the sight. You were prodding and poking at his patience because your stubbornness was all that you had left and you'd be damned if he beat that out of you.
"Bleed out then." The Beast snarled, leaning in close. "Hopefully your sister is less hard-headed."
Your heat dropped.
The monster's face softened, as though he regretted his words.
"Just give me the damn formula," your voice wobbled as you spoke and your already swollen eyes stung from the salt of your tears. He opened his mouth to say more but chose against it, opting for a long-suffering sigh instead.
He placed his hand over your eyes, unnecessary considering you would have just closed them had he asked. You didn't want to see him, anyway.
Something warm pressed against your lips the hot liquid smearing across your chin.
"Bite onto it and swallow," the Beast rasped. You didn't question his commands, not now. Not after he'd just threatened the life of your only remaining family.
You bit down and began to drink, the formula was sweet and warm, like a thick, honeyed syrup. When he pulled the object away, he quickly wiped at your chin with the cloth and you caught sight of the red liquid on the cloth. Had you not tasted the sweetness of the formula, you'd have thought it was blood.
Your stomach churned at the thought.
"Peli and Cara will be here to help you clean up and take you to go rest." The Beast said, standing to his feet and appraising the length of your body that laid sprawled across his couch.
"How often do we have to do this," you asked, eyeing the blood that stained his fingers and shirt. The monster turned his head, casting his gaze to the floor.
"Every two days."
The implications were heavy. That meant that the last woman had died only two days ago. The day before your arrival. The Beast seemed to have followed your train of thought.
"It will get easier." Rather than being comforting, the words were forlorn, as though he was also suffering.
"It will," you agreed. The Beast's brows rose in surprise, an unknown expression flitting across his features. "Knowing that my sister and I will be freed from this life in two years will keep me going."
The monster did not get angry like you'd expected him to. He did not frown or storm from the room, he only sighed like he was tired. Like he was jealous. Like, he too, wanted to be freed.
"I'll see you at dinner."
It was a soft farewell, as though you were friends who were going their separate ways for the day. As if the Beast was leaving for his job and you were going to do errands, looking forward to meeting back in the middle at the end of the day to explain the details of your mundane routine.
But you were not his friend and you would not play these games.
You weren't going to dinner.
You were going to look for a way out of this deal, whether by escape or by killing the Devil himself.