Page 15 of Monsterland Mayhem
Orange orcs. I can smell them, their citrusy aroma underscored by the scent of rotting fruit.
Two of them are notoriously known for supporting the Imposter King.The Tweedle brothers.
Word is already spreading of Ailsa’a arrival. We knew this would happen. We expected it. Wewantedit.
Claiming her must be a public event. It’s the only way to resecure the throne and prove once and for all that the current king is unfit to rule.
He’s a lone wolf.
I have an Alpha-circle.
And soon, my Alpha-circle will have a mate. Then we’ll have a whole kingdom, too.
“Please,” Craze says to Ailsa, drawing my attention back to them. “Please let me escort you.”
I smirk. Craze never begs. But he knows he’ll have to use up several more explosive cards to take down the two massive orcs. And Craze hates wasting his toys.
Ailsa sighs. “Damn it, Beast.”
My eyebrow inches upward as Craze cocks his head to the side.
“That’s an intriguing nickname,” he tells her. “I much prefer it to ‘Mad Hatter.’?”
She stares at him. “What?”
“The nickname you just gave me; I said I preferred it.” He frowns. “Are you hard of hearing, love? Is that why we’re still here instead of running?”
“I…No. I can hear just fine. And I wasn’t talking to you.Youare not my Beast.”
My inner wolf purrs at the possession underscoring those two final words.That’s right, little mate. I am your beast in more ways than you realize.
“I can become a beast for you, if that’s your preference,” Craze offers.
“You can turn into a wolf?” she asks.
He stares at her. “No, sweet rabbit. I’m a different beast entirely.”
I nearly snort. He’s not wrong. But he’s not talking about physical forms so much as his sexual prowess.
Which, of course, goes over her head.
Because she frowns and asks, “Should I be afraid of you?”
He chuckles. “Probably, but not in the way you think.” He winks and glances over his shoulder again as the scent of rotting citrus grows stronger. “I really don’t want to play with the Tweedle brothers, Ailsa. Can we please run now?”
“How do you know my name?” she asks, ignoring the urgency in his tone.
“How about a game?” he counters. “For every direction that you follow, I’ll answer a question. Starting with the one you just asked in exchange for you running.”
She studies him for a moment. “You’re saying you’ll tell me how you know my name if I agree to run?”
He smiles, but I don’t. Because I recognize the devious twinkle in her gaze. I’ve spent the last two years getting to know her in my alternate form. And that look isn’t one of obedience. It’s one of defiance.
“Okay, I’ll run,” she adds as she stands.
Then she bolts down the beach.
Craze’s amusement dies. “That’s not what I meant,” he mutters, chasing after her.
