(Starla)
His curious eyes travelled from me to Doodles; a confusion crossed his face like a wave when she lifted her head and meowed at him without fear.
"What’s that?" He questioned, with a furrowed forehead.
The scene was almost comical if I hadn’t been terrified for Doodles.
What kind of dumb question was that? I still answered it for him.
"My cat."
Those violet eyes swept over me, and I felt their intensity settle like iron bearings in the pit of my stomach. My pulse stuttered, but I forced myself to remain calm.
He frowned.
Doodles chose that moment to act.
The little orange cat trotted forward, tail high, and rubbed against his ankle.
Both of us froze but for very different reasons.
He stared down at the tiny creature winding between his feet, purring like a furnace, utterly unafraid. His mouth opened, but for a while no sound escaped him.
"Your cat," he said flatly, "is touching me." He pointed out.
"He does that," I managed to say. "He is... friendly."
"Beasts fear me." Azkan stared at Doodles as if the cat had grown a second head. "Animals cower from me, most Beastmen and humans too. I am the Warden of the Wall. I have bathed in the blood of a hundred enemies. And your cat..."
Doodles sat down on his right foot as if it was his personal rug and began to groom his tail, not at all afraid of his titles, presence or the fact that he had taken so many lives.
Something flickered across his face. Shock, maybe. Or the first crack in that icy armour he wore.
If he kicked Doodles, we were going to have a problem. To my relief, he didn’t.
He cleared his throat and focused his attention back at me. His eyes narrowed, ridges of his face went taut again.
"The S-ranked guide they promised?" His voice dripped with aversion. He was already forming an opinion of me without knowing me.
"You look like a strong wind would break you. Your energy reads....Weak."
He, on the other hand, was like an untamable fire. I could see his strong, pulsing energy halo. The kind I had never seen before.
I had expected his reaction, though. The forged papers said S-ranked. My body said something else entirely, a flickering candle in a hurricane, burning the last of its wax. I was on the verge of death, and he could sense my energy too.
"My energy reads the way it does because I have travelled," I said, meeting his gaze squarely. "Forgive me if I am not at my most radiant."
His eyes narrowed; he fully turned to face me. "Insolent. So typical of a human." His words showed his disdain for me.
"And you are dismissive. For a Beastman who needs my help," I answered calmly, not averting my gaze even for once.
The air between us crackled. His jaw tightened, and I saw something flash in those intense violet depths. Surprise, perhaps, that a fragile human would dare speak to him so plainly.
He stepped closer. Then closer still but not touching. His presence was overwhelming, like a hulking seven-foot-tall beast. The scales on his shoulders and arms shimmered, giving him that wild animalistic vibe.
His heat pushed against my skin, a pressure that made my ears ring.
"Have you ever guided a Beast before?" he asked, slowly circling me like a predator examining prey. For a man this tall, he moved with fluidity. "An actual Beast, not one of those flimsy humans who call themselves hunters and Sentinels?"
His hatred for our kind was apparent in the way he spoke.
My sister’s words echoed in my head: "You have studied the theory. Just tell them you have studied the theory."
"In theory," I said, and immediately hated how weak it sounded.
He let out a ludicrous laugh, the voice menacingly echoing in his vast chamber.
"The theory." He stopped in front of me, close enough that I could see the flecks of gold in his irises. Mesmerising to say the least.
He lowered his head, bringing it on my level.
"Tell me, little human, when my brother’s claws rend through stone, when his fire burns so hot it melts the very air, when his mind is nothing but rage and hunger. Will your ’theory’ save him?"
Something cold settled in my stomach. It seemed like something was missing.
"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.
His eyes narrowed. "What do you know about my brother’s condition?"
"Nothing. The report said nothing about a condition," I truthfully said.
"Then let me enlighten you," he said with a set jaw, straightening up.
His voice dropped to something almost bordering on madness. "My brother has been in his dragon form for 100 years. And he’s not simply ’sick.’ He’s feral. His mind is gone, burned away by the beast’s rage until there is nothing left of him but hunger and fire. Thanks to your Kind."
A fire burnt in his eyes, a fire of revenge and unforgiveness.
My blood went cold at the revelation. His words were venomous. He hated humans.
"He doesn’t recognise me anymore. He doesn’t recognise anyone." The Commander’s voice cracked, just slightly, before hardening again. "Last time, I tried to reach him. I walked into his chamber, called his name, and he nearly tore my arm off. I still bear the scars."
He twisted his right arm, showing me where the scales had been flayed. Pale, jagged lines ran from his wrist to his elbow. Clear claw marks that had healed badly, the skin twisted and raised.
I stared at them, and my mind raced.
Feral for a century with no one to help or guide him. Was he even in there? Doesn’t recognise anyone. Tried to kill his own brother.
This wasn’t what I had prepared for. The theory covered guiding restless beasts, calming agitated ones, easing the transition back to human form. It did not cover creatures who had lost themselves entirely. Creatures who would tear apart anyone who came near.
I was dying anyway, so what harm would it cause? At least Sirela would be safe; my clan would be better protected. The peace treaty will remain.
"Now you understand," the Commander said flatly. "Your ’theory’ won’t save him. Nothing will. But I have tried everything else. Every Beast guide in our territory, every healer, every ritual we possess. You are the last option."
"Theory is all I have," I said quietly. "But it’s more than you have managed, isn’t it? You have had a century to save him. And yet here I stand."
His eyes blazed, and he drew in a sharp breath at my words, gritting his teeth.
I almost flinched. I thought he might strike me. I had seen that kind of rage before, in dying patients who lashed out at the one trying to save them. He reached out and grabbed my wrist before I could pull away. Reflexes so fast that I didn’t see it coming.
His grip was ironclad. His skin was impossibly warm and calming. Nothing like I had expected.
And then, something strange happened.
It was like falling into a river that ran backwards. His energy crashed against mine. Where it should have repelled, where it should have burned, it recognised something. The beast inside him stirred, massive and curious, and it saw me, peeking through his violet eyes.
I gasped. My knees buckled as I stared back in a trance.
He pulled his hand back as if I had scalded him. His face had gone pale beneath that bronze skin.
"What did you just do?" He demanded, annoyed.
"Nothing." My voice shook. The contact had drained what little I had left. Spots danced at the edges of my vision. "I did nothing. You are the one who grabbed my wrist."
"Liar." He towered over me, those violet eyes tinged gold, blazing with something between fury and fear.
"My beast never reacts. Not to anyone. Not in three centuries. He rages until sleep takes him, and then he burns, but he never recognises."
I swayed on my legs as the room began tilting.
"Who sent you?" His voice had dropped to something almost dangerous and suspicious. "What are you hiding?"
He was paranoid to say the least.
"I am not hiding anything. Take me to your brother."
He stared at me. The tension between us was a living thing, coiled and waiting, resting behind my sternum, but I refused to cower.
Finally, through gritted teeth he spoke. "I will find out the truth and if you harm him...I will end your life with my hands."
"I won’t," I simply said before he could threaten me more.
Holy! This beastman had no chills.
His brother was the fearless beast, and somehow I was going to hurt him? Absurdity almost made me laugh.
"You don’t even know his name."
"Aksel Wilder," I calmly answered, meeting his eyes. For a moment, the exhaustion faded. The fear faded. All that remained was the quiet fire that had kept me going long past my time.
A beat of silence I felt. Something shifted between us, something I couldn’t name.
"Follow me," he said with finality, walking past me, and I let out a breath, willing my numb legs to move.