The Next Morning
Eliora was wiping down the counter in the kitchen when the head chef called her name.
"Eliora!"
She straightened. "Yes sir?"
"You'll be serving the king this morning." He replied.
Her mind went blank. "S...sorry? Who?"
"The king!" he snapped, already moving to another pot. "Take the tray and go. I've got no time to repeat myself."
She stood frozen. Serve… the Beast King? Her heart dropped.
Kira's voice echoed in her head from the conversation they had this morning, "Everyone fears him. Even the beasts."
She wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck and pulled the muffler up, trying to hide her shaking body.
The cold made it a reasonable excuse, but truthfully, she would've worn ten scarves if possible, anything to hide her cursed beauty and now, the mark.
Her hands kept shaking even as she lifted the gold tray.
"Move!" the chef barked.
She swallowed hard and hurried out. She walked down the hallway, past guards who gave her condescending looks, but she ignored them.
When she finally got to the doors to the dining hall, the guards stopped her. "What do you want, human?" They asked.
"I've brought breakfast from the kitchen for His majesty." She replied.
One of them checked the food and tasted it, before nodding. Then they opened the doors for her to enter.
The hall was quite large with very high chandeliers. Her small footsteps echoed as she walked in. She kept her head down, just like they had been taught.
At the far end of the impossibly long table, the King sat alone. The moment Eliora entered, Zarek's head snapped up.
That scent. Sweet and warm.
His chest tightened hard.
Eliora bowed deeply. "Good morning, Your Majesty."
She didn't see the way his fingers dug into the armrests or how his pupils dilated.
She moved closer to him, gently setting the tray on the table. Then a sharp pain tore through Zarek's chest.
He staggered to his feet, clutching where the bond mark was meant to be over his heart. He sucked in a breath as his vision blurred a little.
At the same moment, Eliora gasped.
A burning sensation went up her neck, making her knees buckled until she collapsed to the ground.
"Ahh!" she screamed, touching her searing collarbone. The mark began to form under her scarf.
Zarek's beast roared inside him. Soulmate.
Her scent was a mix of orange, honey and a faint underlayer of jasmine. It was both gentle and intoxicating, combined with something that made control almost impossible for him....her innocence.
Eliora trembled on the floor, her eyes squeezed shut in pain, unaware that the king was watching her like she was the first dawn after centuries of darkness.
Zarek slowly walked closer to her, each step carrying the weight of his commanding presence.
When he finally stopped, he didn't touch her. He only watched.
Her scarf had slipped and her red curls fell down her shoulders. It was so bright and fiery. He had never seen hair like this on any human, not even among the rarest of beast.
A human should not look like this. Not in this world. She looked like a forbidden beauty fate had shoved into his hands. Her face was unfairly beautifulto exist in a world this brutal.
Her skin was pale, faint freckles dotted her nose and cheeks and her brown eyes shimmered with fear and awe. Her lips were pink but soft looking.
No human or beast had ever possessed such beauty....such impossible perfection.
He growled so hard that it vibrated through the hall. It was an act of pride, longing, and the beast within stirring all at once.
Eliora felt her heart heave.
The echo of Zarek's roar had barely finished shaking the halls when the guards burst in, four of them. Their blades were already drawn for defence or attack.
"My king!"
Zarek's head snapped towards them.
The beast in him that was freshly awakened and newly bound, lunged behind his ribs with a fury so sharp the torches flickered.
"GET. OUT."
The guards dropped to their knees from the authority in his voice. One only he, the king had.
One scrambled backward on his hands. Another dropped his sword. All four bowed so fast their helmets nearly hit the floor.
"Forgive us, Your Majesty!"
They fled, tripping over each other and slamming the doors behind them.
His eyes, glowing faintly, returned to her. When she noticed, Eliora was horrified as she whispered, "Your Majes-"
He cut her off, "You are the one." He growled. "Mine."
Her eyes widened as the meaning of the word hit her like a bolt of lightning. She was his soulmate.
She had to escape. She had to breathe, to think, anything to get out of the room. Her small legs propelled her forward, away from the long table and away from him.
"Stop," his commanding voice cut through her panic.
Her heart skipped. She froze near the door, then turned slowly. Before she could take another step, he appeared right before her in a blink.
Her scarf, which had slipped from her neck, fluttered in his hand. "Look at me," he said calmly, yet impossible to disobey.
She hesitated. His presence pressed hard on her senses. It was magnetic, terrifying, and enthralling all at once.
When she dared to look up, her breath hitched.
He was beautiful, wickedly so. A scar traced his jaw, yet it did nothing to hide his charming handsomeness.
He was broad shouldered, muscular, yet perfectly proportioned. His golden eyes glimmered, sometimes flashing red as he watched her. His hair was jet black, packed loosely while some fell right on his shoulder.
He looked like a painting.
She should be scared, but somehow, she wasn't. Her gaze lingered longer than she meant. She opened her mouth to apologize.
"Don't," he said softly, cutting through her panic.