The beast's sharp breaths resounded against the dark trees around them. It was chasing her, following after her every frantic step, and still, when Sophie looked back, she couldn't see where it was or how exactly it was doing so.
Dread crept up her spine. Humans were no match for the beast. It towered over man more than any fairytale books could depict and its boundless row of fangs looked capable of tearing through metal bars.
"Leave me alone!"
It replied by making an amused sound, voice hoarse and menacing. Was it laughing? This was no playful chase! Sophie was running for her life!
Man or otherworldly creature, women were just a game to them. Count on male beings to torture her for being on the bottom of the food chain.
While running, her foot got caught on a stubborn tree root. The rest of Sophie fell straight into a puddle of mud, some of it even entering her mouth.
Gross.
The taste was fairly tame, but the thought of swallowing who knows what made her nauseous.
She groaned against the wet dirt, realizing her demise had been brought upon by a tree root of all things. "The gods have forsaken me…"
Sophie felt the beast before she saw it, the power of its presence hard to ignore. That and it kept making guttural sounds, more angered than it had been before.
Just as she sat upright, it lunged at her, pinning her down and baring its fangs to keep her pliant—an effective warning. With its hefty weight on top, Sophie's body sank deeper into the mud, the sensations surrounding her deeply discomforting.
The icky feeling was fairly ignorable, considering the possibility that she might be seconds away from her death.
Staring straight at her executioner's glowing eyes, Sophie could only pray to whomever was willing to listen to give her a second chance at living.
The beast became more feral by the second, face contorting ever-so-often. She recognized the pain that accompanied the pure mania in those blue and gold orbs—resembling both animalistic hunger and human frustration.
Was it fighting for control over its instincts? Her heart made space for sympathy amidst the overpowering instinct to survive.
Wait.
An idea formed inside her head.
Once when she was a child, a cat would sneak into their household, searching for food in their disposed wastes.
Her mother told her not to pet or to even come close to the stray. After all, it would be troubling to care for a bite wound, especially on the hand of a fuzzy, crying brat.
Sophie, ever the rebellious child, didn't listen. She approached the feline with food stolen from the kitchen and scratched her fingers against its soft fur.
Her hands were left bleeding, tears making a downpour on her round, chubby face, and her mother was thoroughly angered at her disobedience, a terror to both the servants and her siblings for the rest of the week.
The cat, however, returned the next day, nuzzling against her leg. It would continue to be her companion for the rest of its life span.
Foolish, that was what she was.
Everyone thought so, back when she was younger.
If she thought kindness would save her from getting mauled, then she had obviously dropped her senses while running. A cat was a cat, small and easily overpowered, but this was a beast.
There was no way to guarantee that her assumptions about its delirious state were even right. She knew little about mythical creatures, only ever informed by Maude's ramblings.
But the lady would have to take her chances. Trapped and helpless, Sophie was forced to run to her last resort. She was aware that she was gambling with her life, but it was better than nothing.
Pulling her hands from the ground, she placed her fingers on the beast's face, uncaring of the mud that tainted its flawless skin. They were both in a disheveled state, no pretenses separating the lady and the strange being that was about to bring her day of reckoning.
"Stay with me." She whispered, her voice as mellow as the wind. "Ground yourself. Stay with me."
It flinched against her touch, but made no move to get away. That single observation emboldened Sophie. It was enough. A fighting chance.
She held steady eye contact with the beast. "Come back to your senses."
It rested its forehead against hers, the action surprisingly delicate. Sophie's heartbeat doubled in speed as she came to terms with their proximity.
God, there was no way she would allow this in any other scenario.
"Come back to me. Ground yourself."
Somehow, it was listening, she wasn't sure if they spoke the same language, but it understood the way her hands cupped its face affectionately.
The skin meeting hers was warm, the eyes staring straight at her soul intense. The moment was intimate in a way she had never been intimate with anybody else.
What was she doing?
The beast had an overwhelming presence—suffocating but not wholly unpleasant.
To see that treasured gold up close, scattered in infinite blues, was like walking into forbidden territory.
Pretending to be calm was a struggle.
Under the beast's gaze, she felt painfully bare. What did it see when it was looking at her? Sophie wondered if her existence unnerved the beast as much as it unnerved her.
A huff. Then calmer breaths, calmer eyes, no longer glowing but captivating all the same. With its hysteria melting away, the beast looked more man than it did animal.
"It's alright. You're alright."
"Who are you?" Hearing its voice was like being doused in cold water. Nothing was like it, nothing came close. Suddenly, she was wide awake and completely aware that if she moved even an inch, its entire face would be on hers.
"Duchess Sophie of Rogethen." She gave the formal answer, thoughts buzzing frantically—it did not move away, why hadn't it moved away? "A– and who are you?"
The beast did not answer, it just stared as if she was an anomaly—a habit Sophie would come to appreciate later on.