Page 10 of Rescued By the Beast
"I hear you accepted the touch of an insignificant rabbit. Little do you know what awaits you when you sleep with a wolf."
My insides boil, but I need their tip.
"Oh, really?" I force a smile, letting the sarcasm drip from my voice. "Thanks for the suggestion, but that comparison is definitely not one of my priorities right now."
The wolf blinks, confused, and his friends' momentary laughter seems to irritate him even more.
"Bitch," he growls, but before I can respond, something changes in the air.
The dim light from the torches on the stone walls flickers, dancing in the shadows that stretch across the ancient beams of the ceiling.
When the tavern door opens, the buzz instantly ceases. The laughter, the conversation, even the sound of mugs being raised.
The air feels heavier, almost suffocating. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I look towards the entrance.
Mark.
He enters with his companions, his gaze cold as ice, scanning every corner of the hall. When his eyes meet mine — and then the wolf's hand still on my body — something in him changes in the blink of an eye.
Before I can react, his body begins to change.
He grows, muscles bulging under his shirt, which almost seems to tear with the tension. Hair begins to spread across his skin, covering his arms and neck, while sharp claws protrude from his fingers. Fangs emerge, stretching from his jaw as his face transforms, becoming more beastly, with features that blurthe line between man and beast. His eyes glow golden, fierce and inhuman, with an intensity that makes my heart race.
With an agile, predatory movement, he lunges at the wolf, grabbing him by the neck. The muffled sound of the impact echoes through the tavern as the Beast lifts him from his chair with extraordinary strength, making it clear that there is no escape.
The wolf lets go of my bum at the same moment, his fingers trembling as he tries to pull Mark's hand away from his neck.
"Let go of me!" the wolf growls, trying to free himself from the grip.
Mark tilts his head, a dark smile playing on his lips.
"Well, since you like to touch others without permission, I thought you'd like to be touched the same way.
All I can do is watch.
The alpha leader of the werewolves, sitting across the table, stands up abruptly, his chair crashing to the floor. His wolfish eyes glow golden with warning, and a deep growl reverberates throughout the room.
"Let go of my man," the alpha says, his voice deep and heavy with authority.
But Mark doesn't let go, his claws slowly digging into the wolf's skin, making his neck bleed, his eyes bulging red, his tongue swelling out...
The wolf struggles, his legs kicking the air, his claws trying to tear Mark's arms, but every cut inflicted on the beast's skin heals immediately, as if it had never existed.
"I said let him go!" The alpha growls, baring his fangs.
Mark raises his eyebrows, but releases the wolf, who falls to the ground, choking and coughing as he drags himself away.
"Teach your men to behave," Mark retorts in that guttural voice, as he adjusts his shirt with deliberate movements and fixes a piercing gaze on the alpha. "Or do you need a lesson too?"
"Watch what you say, you mongrel bastard." The lupine bares his fangs, his words sharp, designed to provoke.
Mark doesn't flinch.
"And what are you going to do?" His voice is laden with a serenity that sends shivers down the spine. There is no irony, only palpable danger. "Challenge me to a duel?"
The alpha leader's eyes flash, and he lets out a fierce growl, his sharp teeth still bared. But the tension in his raised shoulders and stiff muscles betrays the truth.
Everyone knows that if there were a duel, the alpha would not emerge victorious.
