“If you’re not going to run, then shoot them! Shoot them all!”
Beast fires his weapon. I see his body jerk from the recoil then everything goes black.
“You are not worthy of her. You should feel ashamed for sharing her air,” a deep voice booms around me.
There is something strangely familiar about it.
I hear a growl but the growl is unfamiliar so it frightens me. I whimper and try to find my way out of the dark.
“See. You cause her distress,” the booming voice says. “Begone from here.”
“She is my Calling. I cannot help but want to be near her.”
A warm hand touches my head, petting my hair.
“Do not touch her! She did not give you permission!” The booming voice thunders.
The petting of my hair stops. I whimper again, I actually kind of liked it.
“Did she give
you
permission to touch her?” the foreign voice asks.
There is only silence. The silence stretches on for so long, I fear I’ve fallen back into the blackness. I struggle to find my way back to full consciousness.
With a shrill gasp, my eyes open and I sit up.
I’m awake inside a nightmare. That’s the only reason I can come up with to explain why I’m surrounded by dark, looming Ravagers. They tower above me, making me feel impossibly small. Impossibly weak and vulnerable.
A purple body breaks through the wall of black armor. I’m so relieved to see Beast, I start crying before I can stop it.
“Beast…” I sob and reach for him.
I just want him to hold me. To protect me from these monsters that have crawled out from under my bed.
“Ameia,” Beast says and elbows the Ravagers out of his way.
There’s grumbling and the elbowed Ravagers shuffle back, giving Beast room.
“Don’t come any closer,” the foreign voice behind me orders.
I peek a glance back and wish I hadn’t.
There’s a Ravager standing directly behind me. The Ravager covered head to toe in dull black armor, save for his hand. The sheen of his armor is dull. Instead of reflecting the lights, it seems like the armor absorbs it, shrouding the Ravager in his own personal cloud of darkness.
From the dark, two red eyes burn from his helmet. The helmet he wears has a wicked pair of horns sprouting from the top. The horns twist and the sharp tips are barbed. I’ve heard stories of them charging at their victims with their horns if they’re disarmed of their guns.
How do they even shoot their guns when the fingers of their gauntlets are clawed?
That hand that is uncovered, that hand must have been the hand that was touching me.
Why is it purple?
Beast stops coming for me, seemingly obeying the Ravager’s order. He stands stiffly, only a foot from my bed. His fists clench at his sides and his red eyes are narrowed, glaring above me. I’ve never seen him look so pissed.
If Beast won’t come to me, I’ll go to him. Before I can think better of it, I jump out of the bed I’m in. I get both feet on the cold floor when I realize I’m tangled in a sheet. Still, I stubbornly try to take a step forward but the sheet clings to my legs and trips me up.
Two pairs of warm hands catch me, keeping me from falling to the floor. My body jerks, my insides spasm.
I cry out in half pleasure and half pain. Hot, electrical currents run amok inside my body. Zapping and jolting me, the currents of warm energy force their way through my veins, lighting me up.
It feels as if the hands holding me are bonding to me, fusing with my skin. No matter how much I twist and jerk, I can’t escape them.
“Stop!” I scream.
One pair of hands drops. It’s Beast’s.
Beast sticks his hands in the air while backing away, to show me he’s no longer touching me. Unfortunately, the other pair of hands is still glued to my skin. I can breathe, I can focus, but still, the pair of hands is sending thrilling jolts through me. More than enough to make me extremely uncomfortable. And very warm.
“Please stop.” I twist around and look up at the cold helmet of the Ravager who is touching me. His purple hands are wrapped around my hips, squeezing me.
I look down at myself. All I’m wearing is the sheet snagged around my legs.
“Why am I naked?!” I try to cover myself with my hands. I cross one arm across my breasts and reach down, yanking the sheet back up.
“Let her go, Striker,” Beast snarls.
My jaw drops. I can understand Beast.
“I can’t,” Striker groans behind me. His fingers tighten, his nails piercing my skin.
I whimper and try to tear myself away from him. He’s hurting me.
Beast roars, enraged.
Beast drops his chin and suddenly charges Striker. As Beast’s head connects with Striker’s armored chest, I hear a loud crack. Striker’s nails rip from my skin and the two fall to the ground.
I clutch my sheet to my chest and scramble away, but I have no escape. My hips are throbbing, I can feel blood trickling down my thighs. The circle of Ravagers around me pull in tighter, I’m complete surrounded.
Striker is protected by a full set of dull black armor, where Beast is not armored at all. This fight should be a no contest. If anything, I would think Beast would only be hurting himself. Yet, Beast is on top of Striker, growling and punching as if he’s gone berserk.
Striker pushes at Beast, but he’s unable to push him off.
Beast grabs hold of Striker’s helmet by the barbed tipped horns. He rips the helmet off with a grunt, revealing a purple face that looks much like his own, red glowing eyes and all.
What the heck is going on?
Is Beast a Ravager? Are all the Ravagers purple demons beneath their armor?
Beast tosses the helmet at the circle of guards. The helmet thunks off a breastplate and falls forgotten to the floor.
“She,” Beast punches Striker in the face. “Did not,” Beast punches him in the face again. “Give you,” Beast punches Striker in the side of the head. “Permission!”
“Stop!” I scream.
The violence is making me sick. Beast made his point. Striker shouldn’t have done what he did.
Beast’s fist pauses in mid-air, he was about to punch Striker again. His head turns to me, his chest heaves with the force of his breathing. The way he huffs, the way he glares, I feel like gulping and taking a step back.
Beast pushes himself off of Striker and stalks towards me. His hands are clenched, the veins in his neck are throbbing, and he starts to drop his chin. For a moment, I fear he’s going to charge me, just as he did Striker.
Beast stops just inches away from me and drops down to one knee.
Bowing his head before me, Beast says, “I’m sorry, princess. Please forgive me.”
I so did not expect that.
I blink then stare down at the top of Beast’s head, unsure of what to say. I get the feeling he’s asking me to forgive him for more than just this, for more than beating Striker to a pulp on my behalf. He’s said he’s sorry, he’s asking for my forgiveness. Can I give it to him? Can I just let go of it all, just like that?
I clear my throat and look around nervously at the Ravagers encircling us. Everyone is watching. Even Striker is watching as he picks his bloody self off the floor.
I look back to Beast. He holds himself stiffly and the way he looks up at me…
How can red demon eyes look so vulnerable? So sad?
As much as I want to continue to hate him for destroying my pod and for selfishly trying to keep me with him, after everything he’s done for me, I just can’t keep holding it against him. I’ve made my own mistakes. I’m not perfect. If he’s willing to take on Striker, if he’s willing to take on all these Ravagers, for me, how could I not forgive him?
Beast has proven himself time and time again. He will protect me. He will fight for me. I have a feeling, if he had to, Beast would take on this entire ship. I can see it the way he looks at me. I can feel it whenever I’m near him. If I just let myself trust him, I can count on him.
I’d be a fool to turn my back on him.
“I forgive you.”
Just like that, I forgive Beast, and it feels as if some great weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I’m glad to be free of it.
Beast rises from the floor. If anything, he seems to grow and swell, more intimidating than ever before. He turns from me, and for a moment, I fear he may attack Striker again.
“You are relieved of duty, Commander Striker. I’m taking command of this ship,” Beast says.
What? Did Beast just take over the ship?
Striker glares at Beast and snarls, “Yes, Sir.”
“You are to report to me on the bridge in two hours,” Beast continues.
Striker nods at Beast and with his thumb wipes blood from the corner of his busted lip. “Yes, Sir.” His red eyes slide my way and he stares at me. The way he stares at me, his eyes burning with hunger even with his face messed up, I feel like I’m meeting Beast for the first time again.
Space demon.
I shiver and clutch the sheet tighter.
Striker frowns at me before looking back at Beast.
“You are dismissed,” Beast orders.
“Sir, what about…” Striker starts but Beast cuts him off.
“I said you were dismissed!”
I hold my breath, afraid that the two of them are going to come to blows again. Well, Striker didn’t exactly hit Beast last time, Beast did all the pummeling. Beast looks almost eager for Striker to make a move. He shifts on his feet restlessly and the corners of his lips twitch as if he’s just waiting for an excuse.
Striker looks back to me. I can tell he wants to say something to me. His lips start to part, but he must think better of it. He gives Beast a curt nod of his head and turns away from us. He walks the other way, bending down to pick his helmet off the floor. One of the horns on the helmet is now bent sideways and the side has a big dent in it. He shoots one last glare over his shoulder at Beast and slams the helmet over his head. Then he pushes his way through the wall of Ravagers, snapping, “Out of my way!”
“Ameia,” Beast says softly, drawing my attention back to him.
I release the breath I was holding and feel my shoulders slumping.
Beast walks up to me and offers me his hand. I hesitate for only a moment before placing my hand in his. His fingers squeeze around me. There’s comfort in his strength, there’s familiarity in the jolt that shoots up my arm.
Beast’s eyes roam hotly over me and I feel even more vulnerable and exposed in my flimsy sheet. If I could shy away from him, I would. He frowns, as if just realizing something, and let’s go of my hand.
“Here,” he says and yanks his own black shirt over his head. “Wear this.”
He is literally giving me the shirt off of his back.
Gently, as if he was afraid of hurting me, Beast lowers the shirt over my head. With some creative wiggling, I manage to get my arms in without flashing any more of myself. The sheet falls forgotten to the floor. Beast’s shirt is warm and soft. It hits my knees, fitting just like a baggy black dress. I feel much more respectable.
Beast’s bare chest fills my vision. I can’t help but admire all of his bulging muscles, especially his hard pecs. As I gaze upon him, his chest rises and falls just a bit quicker. He’s breathing faster. I look up.
Our eyes lock, I just can’t look away from him. How can he be so vicious to the world and so giving to me? He grabs my hand and I have to swallow back the sound of pleasure that jumps in my throat. I feel tingly all over.
***
Beast doesn’t have to snap at the wall of Ravagers, they just move out of his way, parting like a black sea so we can pass. I have so many questions, I don’t even know where to start, so I don’t.
Beast leads me past the Ravagers, and beyond them, I can finally see we’re in some type of medical area. There are rows of beds, much like the bed I woke up on. And purple men I assume are doctors, overseeing their prone purple patients.
So, these are Beast’s people.
So far, everyone not in armor looks a hell of a lot like him. Purple skin, red eyes, though some aren’t glowing as brightly as others, and dark hair.
That makes Beast a Ravager.
I sneak a sideway glance at him. I should be afraid but it actually makes a lot of sense. If anything, it’s a bit of a comfort to know that he’s just one of a whole species who are notorious for their murdering, plundering, and slaving ways. And not say an actual demon.
Yeah, I’ve been through a lot if I can find a bright side to murdering, plundering, and slaving.
Beast and I were pretty much ignored as we walked through the medical bay. The doctors and patients there must have been too busy to give us attention. As we walk down the halls, though, everyone we pass stops and stares.
“Sir…” Some of them say in disbelief.
Most don’t say anything at all. They watch us with shocked faces and wide eyes. They run off, no doubt to share what they just witnessed. And soon the hallways are filled with unarmored and armored Ravagers alike, squeezing up against the walls, just to get a glimpse.
This, this I’m used to. Being gawked at. Crowds gathering just to get a look. But this isn’t for me. I can see it. They ignore me even though I’m the one clearly out of place. Everyone, not only me, has eyes only for Beast.
Beast stares ahead, nodding only when someone says, “Sir.” Otherwise, he’s stiff and imposing. It’s clear, he’s not open for conversation at this point.
So many times I almost start to question him. There’s just so many questions ready to jump from my tongue and fly past my lips. I almost chew my bottom lip raw from biting it.
After an eternity, Beast stops at a door and tells it to, “Open.”
He ushers me in first then glares at all of the gawkers that linger, warning them to back off.
With Beast’s warm hand against my back, I walk in first, barely looking at the accommodations. I can’t wait another minute to find out what’s going on.
As soon as the door closes behind Beast and we have privacy, I turn to him and say, “Okay, you have some explaining to do.”
“Fire away, Ameia,” Beast says as he walks past me and begins to inspect the room.
There are so many questions in my head vying to get out, I have to take a moment to pick one. I decide to start with, “Where are we?”
“We are presently located on my ship, the Harpy’s Talon.”
Beast walks over to a wall and starts pushing buttons. Drawer after drawer slides out, he looks in every single one of them.
“Your ship?” I ask.
He nods and says simply, “Yes, my ship,” not giving me any clarification. He moves on to the other wall, pushing buttons and inspecting the shelves that pop out.
“How did we get here?”
“You don’t remember?” he asks, not even looking at me.
“No. The last thing I remember is telling you to run then I woke up here.”
“Striker shot you.”
I gasp.
Of course he did that bastard.
“If it makes you feel any better, I shot him.”
“No, no that doesn’t make me feel any better,” I say but inside, it does make me feel a bit better. Just a little bit.
“How can I understand you now?” I ask and get tired of lingering by the door.
I walk further in and take in the room. First and foremost, it’s obvious this room is meant for sleeping. There’s a large bed in the very center, covered in pillows and thick blankets, taking up most of the space. All the other furniture only pops out of the wall when you push a button, then retracts when you push the button again. Otherwise, it would be impossible to walk around the bed, one would have to constantly crawl over it.
“I had my translator replaced. The old one was broken.”
I walk up to the bed and take a seat on the edge. “So that’s why you sounded like a dog…”
Beast turns to me and both his brows lift in interest, “I sounded like a dog to you?”
“Yes,” I say, widening my eyes at him, “You just kept growling and barking at me. I couldn’t understand you at all.”
Beast laughs and soon I found myself joining him. The tension seems to flow out of me as I laugh, it’s the first time we’ve shared a moment like this. It’s the first time I’ve laughed in ages. However, it’s only a moment and gone before I know it. When we’re done, the silence that falls feels even heavier than before. The tension returns with a vengeance.
Beast stares at me, his eyes darkening, his breathing quickened.
I squirm on the bed and look away. I sense Beast move and then hear him continuing his inspection.
So many questions, but how do I work up the nerve to ask them?
Why do you look at me like that?
Why do I like it?
If I ask him if he’ll help me return home, will he go berserk and start destroying this ship?
“Why did you destroy my pod?”
Beast sighs, “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Perhaps it’s his admission that gives me the courage to press. I peek up at him and find myself boldly saying, “That doesn't answer my question.”
Inside, I brace myself for his reaction.
Beast moves away from the wall and walks over to the bed. He takes a seat beside me. The bed dips as his weight sinks into the mattress and I have to reposition myself, to keep from sinking with it.
“Ameia,” he says softly, “Princess.”
He reaches for my hand and I let him take it. My fingers tingle delightfully as his fingers slip between them.
“Your pod’s system was infected with a suppressor virus.”
“A suppressor virus?” I ask, confused. I feel just a little bit stupid for not knowing what it is.
“It’s a virus that suppresses a ship's communication and navigation systems.”
“Oh.” I guess that would explain why no one came for me. “That was unfortunate.” Perhaps I was wrong for blaming Vrillum for my situation.
“Yes,” Beast agrees. “It was unfortunate.”
“But it doesn’t explain why you tore my pod to pieces.”
Beast squeezes my hand then lifts it to his mouth. His soft lips brush across my knuckles. It feels like my skin comes alive beneath his faint kiss, pulsing with energy.
“Not being able to give you what you want enrages me.”
“What? Why?” I ask. That doesn’t make any sense.
“Because you are my Calling.”
Instead of answers, I only have more questions. This whole thing is starting to become quite frustrating. I try to pull my hand back from Beast, him touching me is only distracting me. He holds tight to my hand, though, and bestows upon me another brushing of his lips.
“My name is not Calling.”
“My name is not Beast.”
My cheeks flame with embarrassment. That’s right, Beast isn’t his name. All this time, I’ve been thinking of him as Beast, addressing him as Beast, because that’s what I chose to call him. Like he was a pet. I didn’t even think to ask him his name. That should have been my first question…
“Who are you?”
Beast grins at me, his voice full of pride as he states, “I am Drek Ros Karmada, son of Ros Vin Karmada, King of Blackspire."
My mouth goes dry. The information is a lot to swallow. I lick my lips before asking, “So, you’re a prince?”
His eyes seem to flare as they follow my tongue’s slide across my lips. I instantly regret licking them. I also instantly regret letting him hold my hand.
“Yes, I am a prince, Ameia. And you are welcome to continue to call me Beast if you like, I’ve grown quite used to it. But if you prefer to use my proper name, you may call me Drek.”
I feel so embarrassed it hurts. All this time, all this time he’s been a prince and I never even guessed at it. Look at me, the princess in rags, yet I behaved many times as if I was above him.
“I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to say. I can only hope he doesn’t hold it against me. So far, it doesn’t seem like he is.
“It’s fine, Ameia,” Beast says reassuringly. He treats me better than I deserve. “All is forgiven. Yes?”
“Yes,” I confirm, nodding my head. “All is forgiven.”
I so don’t even want to know what other embarrassing stuff I did without even knowing it. For some reason, I start remembering what we did in the tree. How good it felt to have his head between my thighs.
His tongue is made of magic.
“You are my Calling, Ameia,” Beast says, his voice sounding somehow even deeper and husky, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I’m panting. Oh, my stars, I’m panting.
Get ahold of yourself, Ameia.
“What is a Calling?” I ask. And how can I be his? Is he going to start calling me Mine again?
“You will lead me to my destiny,” he says in all seriousness.
“How am I supposed to do that?”
Beast tips his head back and laughs. This time, I can’t join him. Something about this doesn’t seem like a laughing matter. It feels too serious.
“All you have to do is accept me.”