Taming the Beast World with a Frying Pan-Chapter 90: A Beast World Fairytale

’Okay, Ren,’ she told herself. ’This is it. The Disney Maneuver. True Love’s Kiss breaks the spell. It works in every movie. It has a 100% success rate.’

She leaned in slowly, closing the distance. Kael didn’t pull away. He just watched her with that unsettling, predatory stillness.

She pressed her lips to his.

It was a gentle kiss. Chaste. Sweet. The kind of kiss you give your grandmother on her birthday. She held it for three seconds—one, two, three—waiting for the magical sparkles, the swelling orchestral music, or at least a "poof" of fairy dust that signaled his sanity returning.

She pulled back.

Nothing. No sparkles. No music. Just a very large, half-naked tiger man staring at her.

Then, slowly, possibly deliberately, Kael’s tongue swept out. He licked his bottom lip, tasting the ghost of her kiss. He did this while maintaining unbroken, intense eye contact.

Ren’s face went nuclear red.

’Oh no,’ she thought, her breath hitching. ’That was... unreasonably sexy. Stupid feral tiger making me feel things.’

She realized then that fairytales were written for children. A PG-rated peck wasn’t going to cut it. This was a man who responded to base instincts.

Ren’s gaze dropped to his lips again.

"Maybe a more... heated application is necessary," she whispered, her voice husky.

With that, she threw herself at him.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and crashed her mouth against his.

This wasn’t a fairytale kiss.

She kissed him with heat, with desperation, with a fierce, demanding lust that poured all her frustration and hope into him. She bit his lower lip, forcing his mouth open, and invaded him.

Kael made a low, rumbling sound in his chest—a vibration that Ren felt all the way down to her toes. He kissed her back. His tongue met hers in a wet, heavy tangle, matching her rhythm with a primal enthusiasm that made her knees weak.

But he didn’t touch her.

His hands remained at his sides, resting on the floor, knuckles white. It was as if a part of him knew that if he used his hands, he might break her, so he channeled every ounce of his hunger into his mouth.

Ren pressed her body flush against his. She could feel the solid wall of his chest, the heat radiating off his tan skin like a furnace. And lower down...

She felt it.

The impressive, undeniable ridge of his arousal pressed hard against her stomach. The poor leather loincloth was fighting for its life, straining to contain the monster between his thighs.

’Okay, he is definitely awake down there,’ Ren thought, her head spinning as the kiss deepened.

She tangled her fingers in his damp white hair, pulling him closer. The growl in his throat grew louder, a dangerous, purring engine that threatened to redline.

Finally, lungs burning, Ren pulled away.

A thin, glistening string of saliva connected their mouths for a heartbeat before breaking. Both of them were panting, their breath mingling in the cold air.

Ren blinked, staring into his eyes.

For a fraction of a second—just a microsecond—the swirling crimson seemed to fracture. A flash of warm, golden amber flickered in the depths of the red.

And then it was gone.

Ren shook her head, her pulse racing. ’Did I imagine that? I must be seeing things.’

She extended her hand to him.

"Are you sleeping with me tonight?" she asked softly.

Kael sat there for a moment, his chest heaving. He looked at her outstretched hand. He looked up at her flushed face.

Slowly, he reached up and placed his massive, calloused hand in hers.

"Come on," Ren said, squeezing his fingers. "Let’s go."

She led him out of the scullery. She debated taking him back to Syris’ room, but the image of the pristine furs and Syris’ murderous expression stopped her. She couldn’t inconvenience the Snake King again. Her conscience couldn’t allow it.

She led Kael down the corridor, deeper into the palace.

They entered Syris’ private sanctuary.

His garden was beautiful, alien, and quiet.

Ren found a spot near a cluster of giant mushrooms, where a large, flat rock was sheltered by the cavern wall.

"Okay," Ren said, releasing his hand. "Housekeeping time."

She busied herself gathering large, soft fern fronds, piling them into two distinct mounds. One for her. One for him. A respectable distance apart.

"There," she dusted her hands off. "Bed. Sleep."

She pointed to the pile of leaves on the left.

Kael just stood there. He looked at the leaves. He looked at Ren. He looked at a glowing moth fluttering by.

"Bed," Ren repeated, enunciating clearly. "You. Lie down. Close eyes. Sleep."

Kael blinked. The lights were on, but nobody was home.

Ren sighed in defeat. ’It’s like talking to a very handsome brick wall.’

"Fine," she muttered. "Suit yourself. Stand there all night if you want."

She walked over to her own pile of leaves and curled up. It was far from comfortable. The rock was hard, the leaves were scratchy, and worst of all, the cavern was chilly. Her red puffer coat was still soaked through, a heavy, wet weight against her skin. Her hair was a damp mop.

She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself, trying to conserve body heat.

’Just go to sleep,’ she told herself, her teeth chattering slightly. ’Tomorrow we find the Fox. Tomorrow we fix this.’

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ignore the damp cold seeping into her bones.

Rustle.

She heard movement behind her.

She tensed, staying perfectly still. The heavy footsteps crunched on the stone.

Kael crouched down behind her.

He lay down on the leaves, molding his massive body along the curve of her spine. A heavy arm draped over her waist, pulling her flush against his chest.

Ren let out a sigh of pure relief as his body heat soaked into her. The cavern chill vanished instantly, replaced by a cocoon of warmth.

’Oh, thank god,’ Ren thought, snuggling back into him without thinking. ’He’s better than an electric blanket.’

But then she felt something else.

Hard. Pressing insistently against her lower back.

Ren’s eyes flew open. Her face burned.

’Yep. Still there. The monster has not retired for the evening.’

She lay there, stiff as a board, trying to mentally separate the comforting warmth from the very obvious arousal poking her. Kael buried his face in her damp hair, inhaling her scent deeply, his breathing slowing down.

Minutes passed. Ren’s heartbeat slowly returned to normal as the exhaustion took over. The warmth was lulling her into a heavy daze.

Just as she was drifting off, right on the edge of consciousness, she heard it.

"Ren."

It was a whisper. Hoarse. Rough. But clear.

Ren’s eyes snapped open. She spun around in his arms, her heart leaping into her throat.

"Kael?" she whispered back, searching his face in the dim blue light of the glowing moss.

He was fast asleep.

His eyes were closed, his breathing deep and rhythmic. His face was relaxed, the tension of the feral madness smoothed away by sleep. He looked peaceful.

Ren stared at him for a long time, searching for a flutter of eyelids, a twitch, anything. But he didn’t move.

’I must be hearing things,’ Ren thought, disappointment settling in her chest like a heavy stone. ’My brain is just playing tricks on me because I want him back so badly.’

She sighed softly, reaching out to brush a strand of white hair from his forehead.

"Goodnight, my big cat," she whispered.

She turned back around, settling into his warmth, and let the darkness take her.