Beast within the Beauty || A Beauty and the Beast Retelling

Chapter Three || To Murder a Beast

"Liar," he whispered into my ear. He tore the daggers from my hands and threw them with a flick of his wrist, the undoubtable sound of their blades lodging into wood loud and clear. They were far out of my reach, too far. I hesitated to meet the masked man's gaze. "I suspect the villagers will be particularly upset when I send them your ravaged body," he murmured, his voice filled with lethal promise.

An unrepressed shudder went through me and I felt the hair stand on my arms. The lips that brushed along the shell of my ears had my heart thundering. I struggled to breathe properly and my hands shook something fierce, reaching for knives that had long betrayed me. The rose dagger. When I opened my mouth to speak, my throat grew dry and my mind drew blank.

"I wonder," he mused, cold steel nuzzling into the crook of my neck, "what bothers you more...the thought of me touching you or the fact that you will die tonight?"

"I am not going to die," I breathed, my voice little more than the squeak of a cornered mouse.

My heart thudded as I turned my head and kissed his neck. One chance...one last opportunity. The thumps slammed against my chest as I worked my way to the spot beneath his ear.  He made no move to stop me and instead returned me the reins of my hands. My fingers grasped the sides of his face as I desperately pulled his mouth onto mine. He very foolishly followed my movements, allowing himself to loosen his grip on reason.

It was stupid of him to let me, to kiss me after the weapon I had pulled on him. I felt my brows draw together in concentration. He is going to kill me. My grasp on his jaw tightened. He will kill me for my act. The Beast devoured my mouth with a lustful intent, lips moving against my own in heated strokes. My fingers pressed against the steel, cold mask and drew him closer in hopes that I distract him.

My heart had long betrayed me. Certainly, he could feel it thunder against his chest. I allowed my shaking fingers to trail down to the slit of my skirts, focused on what seemed pointless. With my lips still held against his, I reached for the last knife hidden at my thigh. The moment my hand grasped the pommel of the rose dagger, his fingers locked around my wrist. With a satisfied curl in his lips, he slowly lowered his head to see the hand between my legs. My mind drew blank.

"Three knives?" he asked, disarming me and capturing both my wrists in his palm. My body refused to comply with my whims, and I found myself frozen with fear as he raised the knife and examined it. "I am offended, dear. A sane woman would have known that it takes more than three measly sticks to befall the Beast," he reasoned as he, with evident amusement, brought the tip of the dagger to my chest. His motions were leisurely, placing emphasis on the lacings between my breasts as he cut through them with my own knife. "Shall I search my bride for more?" he suggested, tongue lingering lazily on each syllable.

As the knife glided down my chest and to my navel, letting the gown gape where it should not, I felt fear blossom in my stomach. I was unable to move an inch—unable to kick him and defend myself. I shut my eyes, calling back to every deity whose name I knew and prayed. This is how I shall die. It would not be an ending as terrible as I had imagined.

His mouth pressed down to my lips, harsh and skilled against them. It was a foreign sensation, the way he ravished my mouth with fierce intensity. I felt his hand close around a fistful of fabric at my shoulder, tearing the gown apart and baring my skin. He dropped his lips, trailing warm kisses down my jaw and neck until he reached my collarbones. My breath hitched and I found myself appalled between the thought of kissing him and letting him kiss me.

His mouth was heated against my skin and if I had been less terrified, I would have enjoyed the feeling of his touch. But as things were, I felt helpless as he continued to tug on the top of my dress, sucking and nipping my flesh as he did. I feared that the night would end in the exact way I had been warned it would. His wife—wife—of course he would take what he was entitled to.