Blind Beauty

Blind Beauty | 7

 Please listen to the song on the side.

Chapter Siete

 Beast's P.O.V.

 He couldn't stop.

He couldn't stop thinking about her.

Remembering the day he saw her play with Phoenix, he walked around restlessly, never forgetting her beautiful, tragic, and delicate face. So much innocence, he felt it was a sin to even think about her in the way he was thinking.

: : Flashback : :

She jumped at his bellowing voice. And he noticed the way she trembled when Phoenix left her side. She was completely covered in a cloak, and the only evidence he had that she was female was the way her cloak clung slightly tight around her waist.

He didn't know who she was, or why was she here.

Phoenix came to his side in an instant, his loose tongue hanging out of his mouth breathlessly.

The wolf eyed him pleadingly, as if asking if he could go back to the girl.

He shook his head strictly, ordering to go on the other side. The huge wolf left unwillingly, only leaving her standing there, noticeably shaking.

She knew it was him; the Beast.

 

It was almost laughable the thought that he was known as the Beast or the Cursed for all this dreaded years, when actually, he did have a name.

People never seemed to remember that he was actually someone—not just some morbid monster who came from the darkest of places. Yet he already felt like a monster. He was a monster. That was no problem to him. The most horrible and hideous monster to ever be born in the Fae Lands. There was no credible argument on that. And he wasn't complaining.

As he glanced at the girl, he was surprised to see that she hadn't ran or screamed yet.

But what surprised him more was the fact that the his wolf didn't do anything to her. Wolves were acid, untamable creatures, that only the most strongest and powerful could be able to own them or even be near them.

He was perplexed that she actually tended his fur.

He shook his head shortly, dismissively, and instead, started to approach the girl. As he neared her, he could see her slightly bowing her head. He heard her swallow, her excruciating nerves sailing out of her in heavy waves.

That satisfied him - power always did.

"Who are you?" he asked coldly.

Her voice was like silk.

"Who I am is not of importance, Your Highness." She said softly, pausing. "I apologize for disturbing you." And then she turned around, walking off the opposite direction like she had just not stepped into his land.

That infuriated him.

The wind whipped across her, blowing her alluring scent to his flared nostrils. That made him snake toward her faster, making her gasp as he stood dangerously close behind her.

"Answer me," he demanded as his nostrils were filled with her intoxicatingly elusive scent. He controlled himself. "Who are you?" Poisonous rage seethe through him madly as he waited for her answer.

He heard her swallow again, this time, her voice came out more clear. "My name is Arlette, Your Highness. I've come here with my parents due to some circumstances."