TO TAME THE BRUTAL LYCAN BEAST-Chapter 107: A GODDAMN PRETTY MONKEY
VALORIA WILDEROSE
"What?"
I stare between him and my friends cowering by the side, like a horrid beast has come into our presence, half scared that he might actually do something insane.
Rather, Azrael looks at me, a small displeased frown on his face like I’ve punched him or stolen his favorite toy from him.
"Be honest. You think I’m an ogre too, don’t you?" His frown deepens.
I doubt if he’s serious right now—if that’s what’s most important right now—but then I actually think about it.
Since he’s asking, I might as well be honest. No point lying about it.
"Well, if I’m being honest... grumpy cold-hearted Shrek doesn’t seem that far off from what you’ve been putting off?" I admit finally after much hesitation.
I try to go easy on the honesty, laying it on like a thin spread of butter with a bit of reluctance to sell it, but it slides out way too effortlessly than intended.
His offense deepens, scoffing and rolling his eyes at me while huffing out hot air with a dry chuckle.
"Why am I even surprised? You’ve never given me the benefit of the doubt. For all I know, an ogre is an upgrade from the sick twisted revolting creatures you compare me to in that tiny head of yours."
I’m not expecting his insult, gasping. My jaw dislodges from my face, dropping down to the ground.
"Tiny?"
Of all the things he could have said, that’s what he chose to attack? My intelligence? The audacity of this man knows no bounds.
I feel all logic and reasoning evaporate out of me in mere seconds.
Suddenly I’m only interested in being as brutal as possible so it actually stings him as bad as his words do me. All bets are off. War has been declared.
"Okay, mister smarty pants, with a head that big I’d say you’re closer to an ogre than you’ll ever be honest to admit to yourself."
"Do you even know what an ogre is?"
"Of course I do: big, scary, head filled with an impossible amount of hot air, insanely hideous to look at..."
He chuckles bitterly, taking a step closer with eyes reduced to vicious slits. He tilts lower to my level.
The proximity makes my heart stutter, but I refuse to back down. I hold my ground even as his shadow falls over me, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.
"Now I know you’re just bitter. I am not hideous. I own a fucking mirror!"
"Not only are you hideous, you’re as vain as a... as a monkey!" I yell out, picking a random animal even though it doesn’t make sense. I just really wanted to call him a monkey.
It’s not my finest moment, but it’s too late to take it back now. The words are already out there, hanging in the air like a bad smell. I stand by them anyway.
But he’s unfazed, scoffing and shrugging his shoulders.
"A goddamn pretty monkey."
"That’s your issue? That you’re pretty? How shallow and narcissistic can one man be?"
"I just want you to admit it. I’m shallow and narcissistic, but I’m anything but hideous or anything like an ogre."
"Fine!" I scream at the top of my voice, fed up with him just being a goddamn pain in my ass. "You’re unnecessarily and amazingly breathtaking to the point that I’m driven into annoyance by it."
It takes a second of catching my breath and suddenly realizing that we’re standing too close to each other, face to face—of hearing my words echo over our heads—to realize what I’ve just admitted out loud.
To remember that we’re not alone and four sets of eyes leer at us intently.
And then an extra second for the embarrassment to settle and tint my cheeks, not without flooding my entire face with heat.
What have I just done?
I want to crawl into a hole and never come out. Better yet, I want the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Preferably right now. Immediately. This very second.
Eros stifles a chuckle, biting on a trembling lower lip. He’s enjoying this far too much for my liking, and I make a mental note to make him pay for it later.
The rest stare at me more flabbergasted than they should be capable of feeling, all of it making me even more embarrassed by what I just said out loud.
I can feel Elodie’s eyes burning holes into my skull. Calliope’s mouth hangs slightly open. Even Yara, who is usually unshakable, looks taken aback.
I realize that I’ve never really spoken about Azrael to them or interacted with him in front of anyone that isn’t Eros.
So every one of our bickering and fights, our stolen kisses and lingering touches have all been this big secret affair hidden in the shadows, until now.
Now they’ve seen it with their own eyes. There’s no going back. No pretending this didn’t happen. No erasing this moment from existence no matter how much I pray for it.
Azrael smiles.
A slight grin pulls on his lips, filling me up with more regret and the urge to smack it out of his face personally.
"I didn’t know my looks moved you that much," he comments smugly with shoulders raised and squared.
I shudder, groaning and wishing the floor beneath me would swallow me whole for a century or as long as it takes for this moment to be erased from my memory and not sting as much as it does right now.
"Shut up," I whisper harshly to him, wishing he could read the room.
He doesn’t.
"You can’t take it back once you’ve said it, Valoria. Your tastes aren’t bad at all."
Kill me.
I really do wish I could drop dead.
The smug satisfaction radiating off him is unbearable. If I had the strength, I’d strangle him right here in front of everyone and not feel an ounce of regret. I’d do it with a smile on my face.
And as if the situation can’t get any worse, the documents on the table catch Azrael’s eyes like a shiny object.
Everyone around, including myself, stiffens, realizing he’s about to go through information he probably doesn’t want to see and will give him enough reason to kill us all in an instant.
The air shifts. The playful tension between us evaporates, replaced by something far more dangerous. Far more suffocating. The temperature in the garden seems to drop several degrees.
"What’s this?" His voice turns serious, looking between the four of us.
No one answers. No one dares to breathe.
