Page 14 of Beast
“I hate being looked at like I’m broken,” she whispered.
“You’re not.”
“I hate being helped.”
“Tough,” he said.“You’re gonna get both.”
Her breath caught.His hand was still on hers, rough and warm, and his eyes had darkened just a little, his focus drifting to her mouth.Pixie’s chest tightened with something hot and unfamiliar.Not fear.Not quite.
Want.She hadn’t wanted anything in a long time.
“I’m fine now,” she said, but her voice trembled just slightly.
He didn’t pull away.Neither did she.The heat between them rose in slow, steady waves.Pixie curled her fingers slightly against his palm, and he moved just a fraction closer—close enough that she could feel his breath against her cheek.
“Say the word,” Beast murmured, “and I’ll step back.”
Pixie didn’t say anything.Instead, her eyes flicked to his lips, and that was all it took.He bent his head and kissed her.It wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was a claiming.A slow, deliberate meeting of mouths that sent shivers skittering down her spine.
Beast slid his hand around her waist, pulling her in gently, like he didn’t want to scare her off.Pixie responded before she could second-guess herself, fisting her hands in front of his vest, her mouth opening to his with something that felt dangerously close to need.
When they finally broke apart, she stared at him, dazed, lips swollen, heart racing.
“That ...shouldn’t have happened,” she said, but there wasn’t any real conviction behind it.
Beast looked at her like he already knew she was his, even if neither of them had said the words yet.
“Maybe not,” he said.“But it did.”
Pixie’s breath trembled in her throat.“What happens now?”she asked.
Beast’s voice dropped into a low, rumbling promise.“Now I figure out how to keep you close without scaring you away.”
Pixie gave a breathless little laugh, her fingers still tangled in his vest.“Good luck with that.”
He smiled—a rare, real smile.“I don’t need luck, Pix.Never did.”
****
Beast didn’t like theway the air felt—thick, electric, like the pressure that came before a storm.
He stood at the head of the war table in the Iron Sentinels chapel, jaw clenched tight as Techie laid out the situation.
“Guy fitting the bastard’s description was seen nosing around Steelhaven’s edge yesterday.Asking about a girl.Didn’t give a name, but the questions matched up.”Techie glanced at Beast, his expression grim.“It’s him.No doubt.”
The words settled like lead in Beast’s gut.The man hunting Pixie—her brother’s old friend, the one she’d seen murder someone in cold blood—was here.Breathing their air.Close enough to touch her if he wanted.
A slow, controlled fury burned through Beast.He slammed his fist down on the table, hard enough to rattle the empty beer bottles and make a few younger members flinch.Gunner didn’t even blink.He’d expected that reaction.
“We’re locking it down,” Beast growled.“No one in or out unless I say so.We put eyes on every street leading in and out of town.If that son of a bitch so much as blinks in our direction, I want to know.”
Gunner gave a short nod.“Already posted men on shift.Techie’s tracking digital movement.We’ll get him before he gets anywhere near her.”
Beast didn’t answer.He just turned and walked out, rage pulsing beneath his skin like wildfire.
He found Pixie in the kitchen, rinsing out mugs at the sink, her sleeves rolled up, a faint smear of flour on her cheek.She looked up when he entered, and whatever she saw on his face made her go still.
“What happened?”she asked quietly.
