The Dark Beast's Love

When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was how sore my throat was. It was not one's typical losing-your-voice-after-a-whole-day-of screaming, more like someone had reached into your throat and ripped out your vocal cords. I even reached up to touch my throat just to feel if anything was different, only to accidentally touch bruises I wasn't aware were there and send a flashing pain through the nerve system.

The shock of the pain became what brought the memories back.

Vivid images of the beast and my family flashed before my eyes and a startled out of breath, my suddenness knocking out the breath of me and causing me to hunch over the ache that spread through my left side. It took me another moment to realise that I wasn't in a room I recognised. The decor was nothing like the town's infirmary, and looking back at the bed, it had been larger and more comfortable than any bed I'd ever slept in.

That was when a boy suddenly came in, a tray in his hand with food that made my stomach growl in longing. The boy froze when he realised that I was awake, and stared at me with wide eyes before returning to a somehow more uncaring expression.

"You're awake," He said slowly as he put down the tray of food on the nightstand. "How are you feeling?"

When he reached out for me I flinched away from his touch, still not understanding where I was, how I got here and who the hell he was. He took the hint and turned his attention back to the tray, allowing me to take a moment and study him. He was taller than me, I would have guessed about a head above my own height but it was difficult to estimate when he was hunched over the tray of food. While his body was clearly muscular, the muscles revealing themselves under his half- buttoned shirt, his features were sharp rather than round and buffy like the jacked-up boys that spent their days cutting wood for survival. However, as beautiful as his body figure might have been, it was his extraordinary hair that caught my attention. On the top of his head, he had hair almost as white as snow flowing naturally with the shape of his face, a colour I'd never seen anyone have before. Even if the room was dimly lit with candles, his hair seemed to glow like an ethereal being of its own.

He turned his face back to me, but instead of approaching like I'd expected he'd done, he took a step back and raised his hands in the air, his palms facing me.

"You should try to drink the tea," He said and gestured at the tray. "It'll help your throat."

I looked at the tray and then back at him with suspicion, hoping that he got my question through my silent glare since my throat was in no condition of even uttering a whimper.

"It's not poisoned," He said, tilting his head. "If I wanted you dead, I would have done it while you were knocked out unconscious."

He had a point, but I was also aware that there were all kinds of messed up people in the world, and sometimes death wasn't the worst thing one could do to another. So I took a step away from the tray, and continued staring at him. "I'll take a sip out of it myself to prove it," He offered and waited to see if there were any signs of protest. When there weren't, he reached for the glass and took an obvious gulp out of the tea himself, his eyes remaining on me throughout the entire process and when he took a few steps back again.

When I decided that I had waited long enough, I finally gave in to the relented aching in my throat and reached for the lukewarm teacup that was somehow in the perfect temperature for a sip. The sweet honey tea went down my throat like magic and I let out a sigh of relief as I felt the liquid gently covering my dried-out vocal cords. Not wanting to seem too eager, I placed down the cup again and looked back at the boy.

"Who are you?" My voice was still raspy but it would have to do. "And where am I?"

"I'm Riven," The boy explained with a too casual voice. "And you're at my home."

"How did I get there? What happened to the beast? And my family?"

Riven tensed at this set of questions, but quickly covered it up with a reassuring smile.

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His eyes met mine, and my breath hitched. They were not golden and glowing, nor were they feral and murderous, but the similarity was still there, hiding behind his green irises and kind eyes. The beast's eyes were staring right at me, but this time, in the form of a boy.

"Oh," He must have realised that I had figured it out.

Before he could even consider his next move, I pushed him away from the door and bolted out of the room, relieved to see an exit not too far away from my current location. Behind me, Riven shouted at me, urging me to wait up so that he could explain, but I didn't want an explanation from a murderer so I just ignored the aching in my body and ran for the door.

When I finally got out of the building, I quickly ran towards the first direction I could see in the hopes that he would lose me on the way if I got a head start, but my hopes were quickly shattered when I finally took in the scenery in front of me. All around us were high mountains, like a wall cutting us out of the world. While the area itself was rather large and organised, there was no way out, not with mountains so high that you would die before even reaching the top, almost like guards keeping things out, or us in.

"It's a steep-walled canyon," A voice behind me said and I turned around to see Riven standing a bit further away, not daring to come any closer. "The mountains are unclimbable without someone to help you from the top, and the river," He pointed at a water source not too far away that divided the mountain in two. "Will drown you before you've even reached the other side. Trust me, I've tried."

"Why?!" I yelled at him despite my protesting vocal cords. "Why did you take me here?"

He looked stricken by my question. "I'll explain everything," He promised, a promise that felt like a bitter lie. "I'll explain everything, just come back in, you need to calm down so that you don't mess up the stitches."

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Only then did I remember the deep wound on my arm and looked down to see that a part of my clothing had been cut off, revealing a clean but irritated stitched-up wound. With everything going on, I had been able to ignore the pain that sent an aching discomfort through my body, but now when the wound was under my direct attention, I realised how badly it stung. Still, I turned back to the white-haired boy. "You're the beast," I responded. "You have killed many in my village."

"The correct term is werewolf," He had the audacity to correct me. "And that accusation is not completely right. A part of me has killed many, but that wasn't necessarily me."

I frowned as I processed his words. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

I could hear him sigh despite the grand distance between us. "If you come inside, I'll explain." My hesitation must have been obvious on my face because he sighed again. "Listen. You won't be able to get out of here alive. Just look around if you don't trust me."

I did, but it was not to see if he was right or not. I knew he was, I just needed a moment to look at something else rather than the boy in front of me, a boy that turned into a murderous beast every month, a werewolf.

"You don't have any other choice," He continued when he saw my resignation. "I'll explain everything inside. There's food and water for you as well. It'll be better than just standing out here."

My pride told me to protest, but I knew very well that it was no point. So despite all the cells in my body telling me to run, I followed Riven inside.