Bite Me Softly

Chapter 8: Beast Within

The street was too quiet.

The foreboding feeling had not left me all weekend. It hung in the air, despite attempts to distract myself by throwing myself into walls of books and novels at the library.

I walked home with my hood up and my earbuds in, but the music barely registered. The sky had turned the color of old bruises, clouds heavy and low. I should have taken the shorter route. I should have listened to the voice in my head telling me not to cut through the woods.

But a part of myself was tired. Tired of feeling afraid. Tired of constantly being careful with every step, desperate to avoid danger. A quiet rebelliousness tugged at my heart.

Halfway down the tree-lined path, my steps slowed. The wind had stilled, too sudden. The birds, always chattering this time of day, were silent. Every instinct I had screamed at me to turn around.

Then I heard it.

A branch snapped. Not the casual c***k of wind or a falling limb, but something deliberate. Slow.

I froze.

"Kade?" I called out, my voice a brittle whisper.

Nothing.

Another sound now. Heavier. A low snarl.

I turned, ready to run. But it was too late.

It emerged from the tree line like the forest itself had shaped it from shadow.

Massive. Powerful. Each step thudded against the ground like thunder, sending a ripple through the air. Its body was built for the hunt, muscle stretched beneath a sleek coat of dark fur that shimmered silver where the moonlight touched. The way it moved was both graceful and brutal, like a storm wrapped in sinew and claw.

Its eyes burned gold.

Not like Kade’s steady embers; these flared wild, untamed, flickering like they might consume everything they touched. Its muzzle lifted slightly, catching my scent, and it stilled, poised at the edge of the clearing. For one impossible second, we stared at each other. Predator and prey. Or something older than either.

It wasn’t a beast.

It was something more ancient. A force carved out of instinct and night. Its chest heaved as it exhaled, a sound like wind through trees and a low rumble beneath the earth. I couldn’t move. Not out of fear, but awe. This was no nightmare. It was a living, breathing myth.

Then it stepped forward, claws curling into the dirt.

And the spell broke.

The beast lunged from the trees, too fast for me to scream or even think.

I stumbled back, my shoulder slamming into the bark of a tree. Pain flared. My bag slipped off my arm.

The creature advanced, saliva dripping from its jaw.

I opened my mouth to yell, but the sound that came out was thin and useless.

Then, out of nowhere, another blur of movement. The first beast was tackled mid-leap.

They crashed to the ground with a horrible sound of claws and snapping jaws. The air filled with snarls, the brutal thud of bodies colliding, the wet sound of something tearing. Dirt exploded into the air around them as they rolled, locked together in a frenzy of muscle and rage.

I scrambled behind a tree, heart battering my ribs, too stunned to run. Through the leaves, I could see them. Two monsters locked in a savage fight. One with ragged gray fur and glowing red eyes. The other... darker. Sleeker. Gold eyes blazing.

Kade.

I didn’t know how I knew, but I did.

His form was massive and terrifying, but something about the way he moved, controlled, furious, familiar, left no doubt. His opponent was all rage and chaos, but Kade fought with precision. As if he was trying to end it without completely losing himself.

My attacker lunged, jaws wide, fangs gleaming. But Kade twisted beneath it, fast and fluid, his claws raking across the creature’s side. The impact sent them skidding across the forest floor, crushing leaves and splintering small branches beneath their weight.

They rose again in a blur, circling each other. Tails low, shoulders hunched, breaths coming in heavy, steaming bursts.

The beast struck, a blur of dark motion. Kade met it mid-leap. The sound when they collided was almost too loud, like a tree cracking down the center. Kade drove his shoulder into the beast’s chest and forced it back, his own form rippling with power, fur bristling, golden eyes locked on his opponent with terrifying focus.

Another snap. A yelp.

They tumbled again, limbs tangling, claws flashing. One of them hit a tree hard enough to shake the branches, snow and moss raining down from above. Blood smeared across bark and stones, slick and hot, scenting the air with metallic heat.

I couldn’t tell who had the upper hand. Their movements were too fast, a violent dance of tooth and claw, and neither gave ground for long. They were both beautiful in their savagery. Terrifying. Breathtaking.

Then Kade surged forward with a roar that cracked through the forest. He slammed the rogue to the ground, claws digging into its shoulders, teeth bared just inches from its throat. The beast thrashed, snarling, but Kade held firm, his strength absolute.

The forest fell silent.

No more snapping. No more thuds. Just the rise and fall of Kade’s breath and the low, warning growl that rumbled from his chest.

He had won.

But he didn’t kill it.

He released the other with a shove, sending it sprawling. The creature hesitated, ears pinned, blood dripping from its side, then turned and bolted into the shadows, vanishing between the trees like smoke.

Kade stood still for a moment, shoulders rising and falling, the light of the full moon glinting off the dark red streaks down his flank.

He staggered and turned toward me, panting. His chest rose and fell in ragged bursts. Gold eyes locked onto mine.

Then he flinched.

His claws dug into the dirt. He groaned, head shaking like he was trying to throw something off.

I took a step forward.

"Kade?"

His name slipped from my mouth, more breath than sound.

He snarled in response: low and guttural, a sound that didn’t belong to the boy who had once sat across from me in the library. It didn’t feel directed at me. Not entirely. It was like he was fighting himself, snarling at the thing inside him that had broken loose.

And then he moved.

Not walked. Not stepped.

He charged.

A blur of muscle and fury, teeth bared, claws glinting in the moonlight.

Again, I couldn’t scream. Couldn’t run. My feet were frozen to the earth as he came straight for me.

But he stopped just inches away.

His breath was a ragged storm against my face. Hot and wild. His chest heaved with every desperate inhale, and his claws flexed at his sides like he was trying to grip onto something solid, something human, but couldn’t quite find it.

Every inch of him trembled.

My heart pounded, but I didn’t breathe. Couldn’t.

He looked at me like he didn’t recognize me. Like I was a stranger. A threat. Something he didn’t understand but couldn’t ignore.

His eyes were gold fire. Flickering. Shifting. Lost.

For a heartbeat, we just stood like that.

Then his jaw twitched.

And I felt it before I saw it.

The flash of movement.

The sudden heat.

His teeth sank into my shoulder.

Not a clean bite. Not controlled.

It was desperate.

Instinctual.

A shock of pain tore through me, white-hot and all-consuming. I gasped, back arching, hands flying up to shove him away but I couldn’t move him. He was too strong. Too far gone.

And yet…

He didn’t rip. He didn’t tear. His teeth stayed embedded for one endless moment like he was trying to stop, to hold back. Like part of him was still fighting to be gentle, even as the rest of him had lost control.

Then, with a sudden, agonized growl, he pulled back.

Blood dripped from his mouth. My blood.

He stared at me, horrified.

And then he stumbled away from me, shaking his head, clawed hands tangled in his hair like he was trying to rip the beast out of himself.

I fell to my knees, the pain radiating outward from my shoulder in heavy, shuddering waves.

But even through the haze of agony, I saw the boy behind the monster.

Kade.

And he looked like he was breaking.

Kade jerked back. His form shuddered, shifted.

Bones cracked. Fur vanished. Muscles twisted.

In seconds, he was on his knees in front of me. Human again. Bloody. Ashen.

"No," he whispered, voice shaking. "No, no, no."

I collapsed to the ground, gasping.

Kade reached for me, then pulled his hands back like he couldn’t trust himself to touch me.

"I didn’t mean to," he choked out. "I wasn’t supposed to. I should have stayed away."

My hand pressed to the bite. Blood seeped through my fingers, warm and steady. The sting was unbearable, but I couldn’t stop staring at him.

He looked destroyed. Hollowed out by guilt.

"You... bit me."

Kade flinched like the words were a knife. "I’m sorry," he said again, his voice cracking. "I tried to stop it. I tried so hard."

I should have screamed. Should have run. My body screamed at me to get up. To move. But I didn’t.

Because the worst part wasn’t the pain.

It was the look in his eyes.

The horror. The regret. The raw, unfiltered fear.

He wasn’t afraid of me.

He was afraid for me.

Afraid that he had just ruined everything.

Afraid that whatever happened next couldn’t be undone.