Falling in Love with the King of Beasts

ELIA

She didn't know what was happening to her—she was driven to be close to him, tingling at his touch, desperate for his kiss. She didn't know this man, yet somehow she did. Something in him called to her, and she couldn't deny it.

When he kissed her—somehow tender and taking in the same breath—her knees shook even worse than the rest of her. She wished they were alone. She wished she understood what was happening to her body. But she was certain of one thing: She didn't want to be away from him. Not yet.

So when he finally groaned and broke off the kiss, roaring to his people—and they all shouted, cawed, or growled back—she dropped her forehead to his broad, flat chest, letting her hands trail up his sides.

She felt him twitch under her touch and a spear of desire shot through her belly. It took her breath. Everything in her yearned to lean into him, to get closer, to touch him more. And yet something held her back. This place was impossible. This man was impossible. Everything that had happened in the past few hours… she couldn't trust anything—not even herself.

As if he felt her falter, Reth wrapped his arms around her and shifted her closer. She could feel his heartbeat against her temple as their chests rose and fell in time.

There, inside his arms, with her eyes closed the drums—the colors and lights in the dark—all faded until all she was aware of was his heartbeat, his skin under her hands, his warmth in the chill night. She felt peaceful for the first time since she'd opened her eyes in the clearing for the Rite.

Then he stroked a hand through her hair and her skin came alive again. She wanted. Him. She swallowed hard, but it was true.

She wanted him.

She'd never really wanted a man before.

How had this happened. Was it just because of the smoke?

Unable to answer the question for herself, she pulled her head back. He released her immediately, but she didn't step out of his massive arms, just leaned back to meet his eyes. He stared down at her.

The feral light in his eyes had only increased during the ceremony, but his tenderness was in there too—in his touch as well as his gaze. He used one finger to draw her hair back from her face and looked a question at her, his nostrils flaring.

"I'm glad it's you," she whispered.

He blinked and his bottom lip fell open. He searched her eyes as if not certain he'd understood. But she couldn't explain it. It was just… true.

So, she dropped her head to his collarbone again and sighed.

His fingers trailed up the back of her neck, raising goosebumps in their wake, his arm cradling her back. She felt his chin rest on the top of her head and suddenly wanted to cry.

What was happening to her.

She shivered, and his arms tightened.

"Do you wish to leave?" he asked quietly, his voice a deep, rich hum in his chest under her ear.

She nodded.

"Then you need to be strong, just for a few more minutes. Elia?"

She sighed heavily and raised her head to look at him. His forehead was lined with concern, but his eyes were gentle.

"We have to fight our way out," he said with a lopsided smile. When she tensed, he held her tighter. "Not like that. Just… a show. I think… I think maybe you should get on my back and let me do the swinging? Do you have enough strength left to hold on?"

She didn't, but she'd do it anyway. But her voice failed her. She just nodded and a shadow passed behind his eyes, but he touched her face. "Just a few more minutes, then we'll be in the quiet," he said.

When she nodded again, he sighed and let her go. She felt cold and wanted him back immediately, but he dropped to a crouch in front of her, one hand splayed on the ground to brace himself, the other leaning on his thigh. He looked up at her with a such delight, she was breathless.

He was a massive man—muscular, every part of his body honed for strength. And he crouched in front of her like a child waiting for orders in game.

Elia blinked, overcome suddenly by a fierce sense that she'd been here before, had seen him in this position before, knew him in a different time and place… but as fast as the feeling came, it was gone.

"Elia, are you well?" he murmured.

She blinked and came back to the moment, realized he was waiting for her. "I'm sorry," she breathed. "I just…"

"Don't worry. Hop on. I'll get you out of here," he said with a wicked grin that was so adorable, she couldn't help but smile back.

Circling his large frame, she looked at his back skeptically. Even crouched, he was huge, and it wasn't like she had a step ladder. She'd become aware of the people near them, circling, watching, and smiling.

Then Reth put his free hand backwards, cupped, as if to take her knee, and over the stomp and shuffle of the feet around them he said, "Just lean into my back. I'll lift you."

Elia blew a piece of hair out of her face and for a moment was struck by just how beautiful he was—his broad back lined in muscle, that divot down his spine.

If the girls from her classes could see him, they'd be shrieking at her to stop delaying. She knew it.

For once, she was going to listen.

Swallowing hard, she leaned into his back, putting her arms around his neck and her chin at the spot where his neck met the broad plane of his shoulder.

His fingers slid from her ankle, up the back of her leg, to her knee, then he stood, pulling her higher as he reached his full height.

She hugged his warmth and giggled, but her head spun from the smoke, and she was shaking.

"Don't worry, Elia, I won't let you fall."

His voice rumbled against her breasts and she swallowed for different reasons—feeling him tense beneath her.

But all he said was, "Hold on!"