The male's lower body was a massive, sinuous snake tail—at least 15 meters long, its glossy black scales interrupted by bold, white bands that practically glowed in the faint light.
It moved with a deliberate, predatory grace, coiling and uncoiling like it was taunting her. The stark contrast of his scales made her insides churn, a mix of awe and primal fear.
But his upper half was a cruel joke on her sanity. His crimson hair, tousled and vibrant like fire, framed a face so flawless it looked almost unfair.
His sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and those piercing silver eyes burned through her, locking her in place.
Even his skin was mesmerizing, smooth yet marked by faint scars that only added to his dangerous appeal.
Her gaze drifted to his arm, and her stomach dropped. Four stripes. A four-stripe beast man!?.
She forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat, her mind racing. Powerful. Deadly. A rarity.
Her heart sank further as a horrifying thought crossed her mind. Could he be a casted beast man?
¹ Casted refers to alien beast men exiled from civilization and the wild due to their uncontrollable danger. Females are strictly protected from them, as their instincts make them a grave threat.
"Oh no, no, no," she muttered under her breath, taking a shaky step back. "This is a cosmic joke, isn't it? If you're a casted beast man, I'm officially screwed."
The male tilted his head slightly, his gaze sharp and curious, as if he could hear every frantic thought running through her mind.
His tail shifted, brushing against the ground, and the low hiss it made sent her heart into overdrive.
"God," she whispered in panic, clinging to her basket like it could somehow protect her. "If you get me out of this, I swear, no more escaping the palace.
"I'll stay. I'll cook. I'll scrub floors. Just don't let him eat me."
The male approached Thalina with such lightning speed that the world around her seemed to blur.
One moment she was standing frozen in terror, and the next, she was airborne, her feet dangling helplessly before she landed on a thick tree branch.
She barely had time to yelp before realizing she wasn't dead—yet.
Thalina clung to the branch like a lifeline, her arms trembling as her heart threatened to leap out of her chest. "Okay," she whispered to herself, her voice a mix of panic and disbelief. "Don't puke. Don't puke."
The beast man below straightened, the motion fluid and unnervingly graceful.
His crimson hair shimmered faintly in the storm's fading light, a vivid contrast to his pale, otherworldly skin.
The wolves, sensing their doom, bristled with aggression, their growls rising in volume. But he was unfazed.
His silver eyes, sharp and predatory, locked onto them with a calm that screamed danger.
Tilting his head ever so slightly, he seemed to assess the wolves with mild curiosity, like they were no more than pesky insects. Then, they lunged.
With a snap of his massive tail, he sent the first two wolves flying like discarded toys, their bodies slamming into the rocks with bone-rattling force.
Their yelps echoed through the clearing, causing the rest of the pack to falter, hesitation flickering in their glowing eyes.
A low hiss escaped his lips, deep and venomous, a sound that crawled under Thalina's skin and sent shivers racing down her spine.
He surged forward, eyes gleaming like honed blades, and swiped through the pack with chilling precision.
One wolf leaped, only to be caught midair, its momentum crushed in his clawed grip before being hurled into a tree.
Another darted at his tail, but it was a mistake—he lashed it with such force that the wolf spiraled into the river like a stone skipping across water.
From her precarious perch, Thalina's wide eyes followed his every movement.
It was horrifying. It was mesmerizing. She couldn't decide whether to scream or applaud.
"Okay, no," she muttered, shaking her head furiously. "What are you doing, you idiot? Stop swooning!"
The reality of her situation snapped back into focus. "You'll be dessert when he's done!" she hissed at herself, panic replacing the strange awe.
She scrambled down the tree with all the finesse of a drunk squirrel.
Her skirt caught on branches, her foot slipped, and by the time she hit the ground, she was a bruised, disheveled mess.
Bolting like her life depended on it—because it probably did—she frantically tapped her wrist.
"Those stupid guards said this thing would activate if I was in trouble! Where's the help button?!"
She stumbled through the forest, panting, until she reached the river. Her chest heaved as she turned back, paranoia clawing at her mind.
She had no idea how much time she had left before the beast man realized she was gone.
Her gaze fell to the basket of spices clutched in her hands, and despair bubbled up.
"Great. All this effort, and for what?" she muttered, glaring at the basket like it was the cause of all her problems.
The rain had cleared, leaving the forest drenched and glistening. "Stupid rain," she grumbled, kicking a rock.
"If not for you, I'd have avoided the wolves, the beast man, and this whole disaster."
With a sigh, she turned to the river. "Fine!" she snapped, dropping her basket with theatrical care. "You win, universe. Happy now?"
Wading into the icy water, she winced as the cold bit at her skin. "Ouch! Cold, cold, cold!" she hissed, shivering violently.
The beast man, still effortlessly taking down wolves left and right, paused mid-swipe, his instincts prickling. His female was—so quiet.
His head whipped around, scanning the tree branch where she had been. Empty. His brows furrowed, and with a flick of his wrist, every last wolf crumpled to the ground, dead as a doornail.
"Stubborn female," he muttered, clearly irritated, as he slithered with purpose.
He could smell everything—his heightened senses on full alert—but there was something strange.
The usual sweet scent of her was completely masked by something else.
Lillian flowers.
His eyes darted to the ethereal blooms, glowing like starlight, mocking him in their delicate beauty.
With a heavy sigh, he narrowed his gaze. "Really?" He mumbled before focusing on his hearing. Footsteps. Cursing. Yes, there she was, in a bit of a panic.
Meanwhile, Thalina was doing the opposite of gracefully swimming through the river.
Her arms burned as she kept herself afloat, muttering a quiet prayer.
"If I somehow make it back to the palace, I'll be so grateful. I'll never complain again. Seriously. I'll scrub floors. I'll cook. Just...get me out of this."
But then, just as she thought she might make it, she felt it. A strange wave of water that had nothing to do with the current. "F*ck," she muttered, the reality of her situation sinking in.
"I really thought this beast would have a little more trouble with those wolves," she scoffed, kicking water behind her in frustration.
But no. There it was. His black-and-white tail, circling her under the water like a deadly serpent.
It wasn't enough that she had to deal with one of the most terrifying creatures she'd ever seen; now she had to face him with her dignity in tatters.
With a slow, almost teasing pace, the tail wrapped around her, pulling her in. Before she knew it, she was face-to-face with the beast man, eye-to-eye.
"Where do you think you're going, mate?" Eryx asked, his voice impossibly calm, but Thalina's heart skipped a beat as she tried to think of a smart comeback.
Wait. Did he just call her "mate"?
Her brain froze. "Oh, hell nah," she muttered to herself.
"You'll let go of me!" Thalina barked, trying to squirm out of his iron grip, but it was no use. The beast's tail held her too tightly.
"And why would I do that, when you're in heat?" Eryx mused, his deep voice low as he pulled her even closer, whispering directly into her ear. "Mmh, you smell so good."
His hands touched het, and Thalina almost screamed out, why was he so cold.
But then Thalina's eyes widened. Heat? What the hell was this beast talking about? Instead it was him who was in heat, he acted like he was practically steaming with desire.
"Let me go!" she yelled, trying to push him away, but only succeeding in getting even closer to his muscular form.
"Let me go!" Thalina gasped, pushing against Eryx's chest with all her might. Her fingers dug into his hard muscles, but his grip was ironclad. She screamed, her heart pounding as her efforts only made him pull her closer.
"Stop fighting me, mate," Eryx murmured, his voice low and full of dark amusement. He trapped her with his body, his breath hot against her neck. "You think you can escape me?"
Thalina's heart skipped as his scent enveloped her. "I'll never—"
"Shh," he growled, his lips brushing her ear. "You're mine now." The heat in his voice made her shiver.
She kept struggling, but something felt... different. It took her a second, but then it hit her.
Her period. Oh. Hell. No.
She'd gotten her period—that's what he meant by "heat."
Her face turned fifty shades of red or maybe purple in her case, and she stopped struggling, blinking in pure embarrassment.
"Please, just let me go," Thalina groaned, slumping against his hold. She was exhausted, soaked, and so done with this day.
If she didn't make it back before sunset, she wasn't even sure anyone at the palace would notice—or care—that she was missing.
"You'll let me go because…" Thalina held up her slender hands, waving them like she was about to cast some divine spell. She was banking on sheer audacity now.
Eryx tilted his head, amused but silent.
"I'm from…" Her voice faltered as her brain screamed abort, abort!
If she said she was from the palace and managed to escape, wouldn't that just give him a reason to hunt her down and find her later?
She hesitated.
"The palace," Eryx rumbled before she could say another word, his voice low and menacing. His glowing eyes narrowed, and his tail coiled tighter around her.
Thalina froze. How the hell did he know?! Her heart sank. Was this it? Was she never going back to the palace now? She silently cursed her terrible luck.