The Beast Within Page 2

  On quick, quiet feet, Becca padded down the stairs and took the internal door into the garage. It took her a split second to decide on the mode of transport. If there was one thing Alex loved most in this world, it was his bike. He’d taken everything from her and now she planned to take from him. She smiled as her hands took hold of the handle bars. I bet when you taught me to ride your beloved bike you never expected me to steal her.

  Soundlessly opening the side door, Becca pushed the bike through the tight gap and paused at the edge of the garage. Two men stood guard at the front door and there was no way to sneak out without alerting them.

  Do I just gun it and hope for the best or –?

  Her decision was made for her when the silent night filled with a murderous yell. The two guards raced into the house, and Becca rushed out onto the street, pushing the bike with her. Her heart whooshed in her ears until it was all she could hear. With trembling fingers, she started the bike and slid her leg over.

  Gunfire rained down on her as she peeled off into the night. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, and she smiled up at the stars.

  I’m finally free!

  For the last few days, he'd been losing control, so much so that he lashed out at a work colleague for no apparent reason other than the male rubbed him the wrong way. It was a testament to his willpower that he managed to appear remorseful through his boss’s reprimand. He couldn't afford to lose his job.

  He didn't understand the sudden change in his behavior. Since the bloody night two years before, which had sent him on the path to Woodland Creek and his isolation, Aster’s control was full and strong. Well, as much control as one would expect when sharing your mind with a beast.

  Woodland Creek was supposed to be his haven and had been up until that point. So what had changed? Why was his other half fighting for control at every breath? Deep down, Aster had known he couldn’t hide forever. There was only so long the ley lines – the points at which the veil between worlds were at their weakest – that ran throughout Woodland Creek could placate his beast. It looked as if the countdown had begun, and sooner, rather than later, Aster wouldn’t be able to resist his primal needs. Until then, his hold on his humanity would become thinner each day. Yet Aster wasn’t ready to face the truth. For a little longer, he’d ignore his instincts and push his sexual hunger away.

  Once alone, driving on the dark road from the lumber mill to his home, the rage took hold. His muscles stretched tight, a warning as to how thin a hold he had on his human form. Taking a breath, he forced the beast behind a cage, promising he would soon allow it to roam. It was the anger riding him that made his concentration slip. Too busy forcing his body to comply, he didn't notice the motorcycle speeding along the dark road. When it was directly in his path, he swerved to avoid flattening it all together.

  The bike hit the road and its rider went down with it.

  Slamming on his brakes, he shoved the truck into park and leapt from the vehicle. His keen eyesight picked up the small, unmoving figure meters away from the overturned motorcycle. Feet pounding down the road, Aster’s stomach flipped when he realized the small form must be female. It wasn’t until he was above her, his heart in his throat and the tiny voice in his head whispering, “You’ve killed again,” that the woman moved.

  It was the smallest of movements, but he noticed.

  As he bent to touch her, she rolled onto her back with a groan.

  Pain. It was all she was, and all she’d ever be. Yet in the moments before it had consumed her, when she’d hit the tarmac, the impact knocking all air from her lungs, her head had filled with stunned surprise. An irrational thought filtering through her mind.

  Thank you for buying me my leathers, Alex.

  When she’d received the box wrapped in dark gray with a silver bow, she wondered what he’d wanted. Alex gave her things when he’d beaten her, or something horrible was awaiting on the horizon. Yet instead, he’d smiled as she’d looked up in surprise and said, “Wanna go for a ride, baby?”

  She’d gone. Not only because refusing Alex wasn’t a wise thing to do, but because she had always wanted to ride the beautiful, sleek machine. Alex taught her to ride. Their time together while cruising the roads had been a dull light in the endless darkness, and had given her a glimpse of the man Alex could be if he ever had a desire to change, which of course he didn’t. But when living a life with no way out, it was the only hope for Becca to cling to.

  Flat out on the tarmac, she couldn’t feel any individual injury, just a throbbing pain pounding through her with each frantic beat of her heart. Footsteps approached after the night went quiet, though the headlights from the truck that had mowed her down still highlighted the road. Becca blinked rapidly, trying to focus on the bike, the bike which had been her only escape, and now was most likely as broken as her freedom. The effort only caused her head to pulse violently, and she rolled over onto her back with a groan.

  A man loomed above her. In the shadows cast by the headlights, his features were difficult to make out. Yet through her throbbing head, she could distinguish copper glints in his eyes.

  “Are you okay?” A voice like chocolate and sin washed over her, but not enough to squash the anger rising inside her.

  Rage like liquid fire burned out her pain, briefly enabling her to snap back at his stupid comment. “Of course not, you idiot. You just ran me over.” The rise in her voice made her head throb even harder, but she brushed it aside as she stared at the man hovering above her.

  Raising one eyebrow, his eyes widened with shock, but Becca had had just about enough of men and their idiocy.

  He shook his head, his brow scrunching together as if in concentration, before his intense gaze fixed on her. A sliver of fear rolled down her spine. She had enough experience with men now to know when something wasn’t quite right, but though her mind told her to run, her body was unable.

  The beast in him rose in approval at her sarcastic answer. It liked his woman strong.

  His woman? Shaking his head to clear the crazy thought, Aster bent to take a better look at her, and smelled blood. Rich and metallic, it coated his tongue. Tensing against the inevitable rise of his beast, Aster was surprised when he felt only fear. Fear for her.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  “My whole fucking body hurts.” She groaned.

  “I’ll call for help.” As Aster stood, the woman suddenly moved, her arm reaching out and taking hold of his ankle.

  “No,” she gasped.

  “What?”

  Her eyes held his, the pain in them temporally dulled as hard steel filled her expression. “I said no help, no hospital, no doc–”

  Her words cut short on a pain-filled breath, Aster watched in horror as she slumped back, falling unconscious.

  “Damn it!” Aster growled, the beast very much in control and, for once, not full of rage, but instead the need to protect.

  Now that she was unconscious, Aster allowed his beast a little more rein. The Minotaur stretched inside him getting a closer look at the female before him. His eyesight sharpened, his senses honed to the nth degree. The scent of blood lingered in the air, but it wasn’t heavy, and a quick investigation found the cause. Her leather jacket had ridden up as she’d slid across the tarmac, shredding skin, but not as deep as it could have been. Her hands were grazed worse than her back. A wave of anger made its way through him at her stupidity of riding a motorcycle without gloves. There appeared to be no broken bones, and her helmet had protected her face. Decision made, Aster picked up her light form and placed her gently in the passenger seat of his cab. Then he went back for her bike, easily carrying the weight, and placing it on the bed of his truck.

  Starting the engine, he made his way into town, but when he should have turned for the hospital, Aster found himself heading instead toward his cabin located on the edge of Running Deer National Park.

  Let’s get her into our territory, his Minotaur whispered.

  Her words whispered thro
ugh his head: “No, no hospital.” He fought the possessive hit of emotions her words brought forward before they could take hold. Who was this woman running from, and more importantly, why did he care?

  Once inside his cabin, Aster lay her on the table and stripped her of her leather jacket. He removed her helmet, revealing thick, glossy, brown hair. The slight wave had him wanting to run his hands through the strands. The shine made him wonder how soft it would feel between his fingers. Growling at his unruly thoughts, Aster shook his head and turned her gently onto her front, cutting what appeared to be a dress tucked into her leather trousers, up the back. Finding the medical kit he kept well stocked for the times he returned home with minor injuries from letting his beast roam, Aster set to work.

  The blood coating her lower back was mixed with dirt from the road. Tiny pieces of gravel embedded in her skin. Removing them tried his patience. The work slow and precise, his large hands struggled with the task. When her back was clean, he dressed the wounds and turned his attention to her hands.

  Again that angry thought filled his head, and if she’d been conscious, Aster wasn’t sure he’d have been able to keep from voicing his disapproval at her stupidity. Where are your gloves?

  Her hands were so small. Filling a bowl with warm water and antiseptic, Aster left them to soak before gently using a square of gauze to help dislodge the fine pieces of debris in her skin, then proceeded to pat them dry. Covering the worst of the grazes on her palms, Aster could do nothing for the smaller cuts on her fingers but apply topical cream.

  With her wounds cleaned and covered, Aster picked her up and took her to his bedroom. The cabin he lived in wasn’t big, having only one bedroom. Designed to be more of a holiday cabin to be used in summer, it had a basic layout. Not that it bothered Aster. He favored winter because the national park was at its quietest, and he had freedom away from prying eyes.

  Looking at her seemingly asleep on his bed, on his sheets, and wrapped in his scent, brought Aster a sense of satisfaction. The beast inside him stretched out in smug laziness, but Aster chose to ignore the strange feeling. He wasn’t ready to analyze his behavior, or admit that this woman was the first woman to have ever awoken something within him.

  She woke in a strange bed, surrounded by unfamiliar smells and in a world of pain. Yet she wasn’t in a hospital, so that meant the man who’d ran her off the road had heard her desperate plea.

  Attempting to sit up, Becca gasped as her skin stretched, igniting fire through her nerves. Feet sounded from the other room and a second later, a man appeared at the door. He was huge. Alex had been well built, and covered in sleek muscles, but this guy was on a whole other level. He filled the doorway, to the point where Becca thought he’d have to turn slightly sideways to fit through. His arms bulged with layer upon layer of pure, lethal strength. She was sure she’d be unable to wrap her fingers around them. A tight T-shirt stretched over the chiseled planes of his chest and stomach, and seemed to be painted to his skin. Becca gulped as her eyes traveled up to his face. She’d never met a man like him. Rough, masculine beauty, with skin of bronzed gold and hair of the darkest ink, he made Becca’s skin flush hot, and her mind scramble.

  “You’re awake.”

  She didn’t answer, her voice lodged in the pit of her stomach.

  “Are you okay?”

  The same stupid question snapped Becca from her daze. “You ran me over. Of course I’m not okay.”

  An unreadable emotion flashed across his gaze, before he said “Hmm, yeah, sorry about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck in an awkward gesture. The movement scattered Becca’s thoughts, her eyes focusing on the flex of muscle and stretch of clothing.

  “So, why no hospital?”

  Her eyes zeroed in on his face, narrowing; she’d not be telling her secrets to another man again. She’d learned her lesson. “None of your damn business.”

  Deciding it was time she was back on the road, running from her demons, Becca forced herself up. She couldn’t stop the noise of pain, even though she’d bitten her lip in hopes of doing so. From encountering years of hurt, physical pain wasn’t anything compared to months of mental torture.

  “Wow, what are you doing?” He entered the room, seeming to take up every inch of space. “Get back in bed. You’re in no state to be going anywhere.”

  Becca ignored him and glanced around the room. “Where’s my jacket and boots?” Her muscles protested with each miniscule movement.

  “Get back in bed before I put you there.”

  She would never follow orders from a man again. “Listen to me, asshole, I don’t take orders kindly, and definitely not from men who’ve run me off the road.” Fire filled her words, an old anger awoken.

  Forcing herself to take a step, her head swam. A wave of dizziness passed through her like a drug. Her limbs went limp, losing any energy she’d had. Breath rushing out in a startled gasp, Becca’s knees gave way, and she braced for the pain that would follow from hitting the floor.

  It never came. He’d moved with such speed, she’d not been aware of him reaching for her. He held her as if she weighed nothing, his strength and heat almost overpowering.

  “I said, back in bed.”

  Becca narrowed her eyes, mustering as much defiance as possible into her tone. “I want my jacket, boots and bike.”

  Ignoring her demand, he carried her toward the bed. Becca struggled, though the effort was painful and pointless. Even fully healed, she’d have had no chance against this man. Mouth set in a hard line and eyes blazing with rage, Becca attempted to hold her ground and masked the fear within.

  A part of her wondered if she’d run from one abusive man and straight into the arms of another. Would he hold her captive? For all she knew, this man could be even worse than Alex. Yet even as her pain whispered her fears, her instincts didn’t tell her to run. That was why she fought him when she knew he was right, because her first instinct was to melt. But her instincts had been wrong before. She’d never suspected Alex to be the man he was.

  But you were innocent then, the seductive voice whispered. You’re not innocent anymore… Melt!

  Shaken by the direction of her thoughts, Becca lost her fight and succumbed to being pressed tightly against his body, her breasts crushed against the heated wall of his chest.

  “Bed,” he whispered roughly.

  Her mask slipped for a second as she pictured not this stranger’s face, but Alex’s with his lips curled in a cruel smile, and the look in his eyes telling her he intended to hurt her tonight. Cold air replaced what had once been sizzling heat. Loss and loneliness pulsated through her, and she bit her lip to keep the desperate, needy sound inside her contained.

  Placing her onto the bed, he retreated immediately. Becca stared at the man who’d been manhandling her a second ago, but now watched with concern from across the room.

  “I won’t hurt you.”

  “Too late for that,” Becca muttered before she could stop herself.

  “Not intentionally. If you would really like to leave, then be my guest, but your bike won’t start and the more you move around, the longer it’s going to take for your back and hands to heal.”

  At the mention of her wounds, Becca felt the full extent of her pain. She’d been so determined to escape that she hadn't felt the stab of agony as she flexed her hands, or moved her back. Looking down, Becca gazed at her torn fingers. Slowly turning her hands over, she inspected the pads of gauze taped to each palm.

  “You should have worn gloves,” he murmured softly. Though Becca was certain she heard a thread of anger.

  “Didn’t exactly have much time,” Becca whispered, not bothering to look up.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, taking a step closer.

  “Nothing.” Looking up, she met his gaze. “What’s your name?”

  “Aster.”

  “Aster. I’m Becca. I’m gonna take that offer of rest now.”

  He smiled and it was completely disar
ming. Aster had a dominating, lethal presence, but when he smiled with a softness in his eyes, it made her relax and forget the walls she’d built around herself to keep people out. “I’ll see you in the morning then. Shout if you need anything.”

  The door closed with a soft click, and a heaviness spread throughout her body. Lying back, she pulled the covers over herself and succumbed to sleep. She should have been frightened; after all, she’d killed a person earlier that day, and Alex would be hunting her down. But even though she was in a stranger’s house, and her only mode of transport was broken, safety wrapped a protective arm around her as she relaxed, preparing for sleep. It was silly, and irrational, but still, she felt safe.

  Fear. That was what he’d seen. She hid it well under her mask of defiance and false bravery, but he’d seen it, so he’d stepped back. She looked stunned at the distance suddenly appearing between them, and he’d had the oddest thought that she’d call for him to come back. Yet she didn’t, and Aster buried the fleeting thought before his disappointment could take hold.

  Closing the door, the beast inside him stirred, wanting to roam and be near Becca.

  Let me out. She’s mine.

  Clenching his fists, Aster waited by the door until Becca’s breathing deepened, signaling sleep, before he slipped from the cabin. Walking a short distance, Aster blended into the shadows of the trees, and pulled his T-shirt over his head. There he allowed his inner beast out. The Minotaur took control.

  The skin on the upper half of his body darkened to a deep brown as his muscles grew and stretched to three times their normal size. Horns pushed through his skull, curling up into deadly points. His eyes glowed a copper red as he took off through the forest, forgetting the human half of him. For those few hours, he was nothing more than the primal, ancient beast that was his other half. He hunted prey, felt the wind rush past his skin, and explored the land that was as wild as him. But not once did the Minotaur stray far from home, keeping the cabin in his senses at all times, listening for any threats, because the Minotaur knew something the man was too frightened to admit. This woman meant something, this woman was his.