THE BEAST KING
Beyond the Rift — Forbidden Realm
The seal had been silent for centuries.
Unmoving.
Cold.
Dead.
A perfect barrier crafted by a human queen powerful enough to tear a realm apart, created with magic no longer found in any living bloodline. It had held for six hundred years without a flicker, without a breath, without a single sign of life on the other side.
Until now.
A thin thread of pressure pressed into the Beast King's awareness—subtle, unnerving, impossible. His eyes snapped open, glowing faint gold against the darkness of his chamber.
The stone beneath his throne trembled, reacting to the ancient power rising in him.
He rose slowly, massive and deliberate, towering over the twisted obsidian structure that served as his seat. The shadows near his feet shifted, bending unnaturally, retreating from his presence.
"Show yourself," he said.
The rift answered.
A faint crack appeared in the air, thin as a hairline fracture along glass. It pulsed faintly, a heartbeat out of rhythm with the world.
The Beast King walked toward it. Flames coiled across his shoulders and arms, sliding over sharp scales that hadn't surfaced in centuries. His beast was awake—restless, snarling, pacing beneath his skin.
The air around the crack shivered.
A whisper pushed through: faint, trembling, unmistakably human.
The Beast King froze.
No.
That was not possible.
Humans were extinct.
Slaughtered, sacrificed, erased.
There hadn't been a human breath in any realm for hundreds of years.
Yet the voice was real.
Faint, but real.
A woman's gasp, sharp and terrified.
A heartbeat's echo.
A pulse of pain.
His breath deepened.
"Impossible," he whispered.
The crack widened for a moment, flickering like a struggling flame. A ghostly silhouette appeared—a woman's outline, hair streaming, body twisting as if falling through nothing.
She vanished just as quickly.
But that was enough for him.
Enough to know she existed.
Enough to know she had crossed.
Enough to know the seal was failing—and the queen's blood had returned.
A slow, rich hunger spread through him.
"So you've finally come," he murmured.
Power rippled through the rift again. The Beast King pressed his hand against it, and the crack flared bright red, burning his palm. He didn't pull away.
A scent drifted through—barely a trace, but sharp, clean, alive.
No beast scent.
No magic scent.
No lies.
Human.
The shadows behind him twisted violently, reacting to his rising power.
He withdrew his hand, flexing his claws, watching the scorch marks heal instantly. Flames crawled across his skin like serpents, wanting to devour something—to find the girl.
The First Human Queen had sealed him away with her last breath, but her bloodline had returned.
The descendant carried the same energy.
The same potential.
The same danger.
And the same irresistible pull.
A growl slipped from his throat, low and unrestrained.
"She will be the key," he whispered. "The one the prophecy spoke of."
A smirk stretched across his lips—slow, predatory, certain.
"And she will be mine."
The rift pulsed in response, trembling as though afraid of him.
He turned away.
"Find her," he commanded.
The shadows obeyed instantly, splitting apart and shooting upward like black lightning, seeking cracks between realms.
For centuries, nothing had changed.
For centuries, he had waited in silence.
For centuries, he had been denied what was his.
But now…
A human girl had fallen into the Beastworld.
The Beast King stepped back toward his throne, the air warping around him from the pressure of his power.
He already knew what the Highborn would do when they sensed her arrival.
He knew what dragons would feel.
What elves would hear.
What wolves would smell.
What leopards would chase.
Desire.
Obsession.
Instinct.
War.
The entire Beastworld would erupt the moment her scent reached them.
He couldn't allow that.
They would hunt her.
Fight for her.
Try to claim her.
But she was not theirs.
"She belongs here," he murmured.
"In this realm. With me."
The rift shuddered again, like a heartbeat racing.
The Beast King smiled.
"Let the world burn if it must. I will have her."
KANAH
Earth → Aetheryon
Most people imagine death as a fade-to-black moment. A soft drift into nothing. Quiet. Peaceful.
Mine wasn't.
Mine was loud.
Metal screamed.
Glass shattered.
My body jerked violently as the car crumpled around me.
Pain hit first—a sharp, ripping kind of pain that burst across my ribs, my head, my chest. The sound of the truck smashing into my side drowned out everything. I didn't even remember closing my eyes; I just knew that one breath I was alive—
And the next, everything went silent.
Not peaceful.
Just… silent.
The kind of silence that feels wrong.
When sound finally returned, it wasn't the sound of sirens or voices or rain on asphalt.
It was wind.
Leaves.
Something breathing too loudly.
I opened my eyes.
And the world had changed.
The sky wasn't gray and rainy anymore. It was streaked with violet and silver, swirling like storms trapped inside paint. The ground beneath me was uneven, dirt mixed with glowing roots that pulsed faintly like veins. Massive trees loomed overhead, their bark dark and smooth, their leaves shimmering between green, gold, and deep blue.
"What…?" My voice cracked, too dry, too small.
My chest hurt. My limbs felt heavy. My head pounded like I'd been hit with a sledgehammer.
I pushed myself up slowly.
Everything ached.
My jeans were torn, my shirt ripped at the shoulder, dried blood smeared along my temple.
I looked around.
Nothing looked familiar.
No buildings.
No streetlights.
No sign of the accident.
No people.
Just trees. And fog. And a constant hum that wasn't electricity but something else—something alive.
A low rumble vibrated through the earth.
I froze.
Another rumble.
Closer this time.
Heavier.
I turned, heart hammering, scanning the forest.
A branch snapped behind me.
Then another.
Something big was moving through the trees.
"Okay," I whispered, forcing my breath to steady. "Not panicking. Just… confused. Very confused."
The ground shook again—once, twice, like footsteps.
Huge footsteps.
I backed away slowly, my eyes fixed on the shadows.
A shape moved.
Large. Too large.
And as it stepped into the clearing, the breath left my lungs.
It wasn't a bear.
It wasn't anything from Earth.
It was twelve feet tall, hunched forward, with thick scaled skin, long arms, and a jaw full of jagged teeth. Its eyes were white, glowing faintly, unfocused but locked on me.
And the moment it saw me—
It roared.
The sound tore through the clearing, shaking leaves from branches.
I didn't think.
I ran.
Branches whipped my face. Roots scraped my knees. I stumbled more than once but forced myself forward, lungs burning, throat tightening.
The monster pursued—fast and loud and unstoppable. Every step it took rattled the ground beneath me.
Something in me screamed that I wasn't going to outrun it.
I veered left, jumping over a fallen log—
And my foot caught on a root.
I fell hard.
The world spun. Pain shot up my leg. I scrambled, trying to get up, but the monster was already there, shadow falling over me as it reared back.
I covered my head with my arms.
A roar ripped through the forest—not the monster's.
Deeper. Stronger.
Wild.
Something black and enormous slammed into the creature, throwing it sideways.
I rolled onto my back, choking on fear and dirt.
The thing that attacked the monster wasn't human. It wasn't even close to human.
It was a wolf.
A wolf the size of a bull, fur black as night, eyes glowing amber. Muscular, fast, savage. It tore into the monster's flesh with impossible strength, ripping and clawing until the creature shrieked—then went still.
The wolf stood over the fallen beast, panting heavily.
Then… it turned.
Its eyes—bright, intelligent, terrifying—locked onto mine.
I froze.
Not because I thought it would kill me—
but because something inside me reacted.
Some instinct I didn't understand.
The wolf stepped closer, slow and deliberate.
It sniffed the air.
Then it leaned down, brushing its nose against my neck.
A shiver shot through me.
The wolf inhaled sharply.
Its pupils widened.
Then—
Its bones cracked.
Its spine twisted.
Its limbs shortened.
I scrambled backward as the massive wolf began to shift, fur retreating, claws shrinking, muscles rearranging, until—
A man knelt in front of me.
Breathing hard.
Amber eyes glowing.
Dark hair tangled around his face.
Bare skin streaked with blood that wasn't his.
Strong chest rising and falling with each pant.
A beautiful, deadly man.
He stared at me like he'd never seen anything like me in his entire life.
"You…" His voice was rough, deep, shaken. "You're human."
My mind blanked.
"I—what? No, no, this is—this is not—humans are—what are you talking about?" My words tangled into a panicked mess. "Where am I? Who are you? Why are you naked?! And what the hell was THAT thing—"
He didn't let me finish.
In a blur of movement, he closed the distance, caging me against a tree with his arms braced on either side of my head.
"Don't run," he said quietly. "Not from me."
"I don't even know you—"
"You will."
His nose brushed against my jaw again, inhaling deeply.
His entire body shuddered.
"You smell wrong," he whispered. "Wrong in a way that's… impossible."
"Thanks?" I said, breath shaking.
"Not bad-wrong."
His eyes darkened.
"Dangerous-wrong. Rare-wrong. Mate-wrong."
My stomach dropped.
"Mate?" I squeaked. "No. Absolutely not—"
He didn't get to answer.
The air turned cold.
A blast of icy wind slammed into the clearing so hard that branches shook violently overhead. The man's head snapped up, eyes widening.
"Shit."
"What now?" I whispered.
"A dragon."
I choked.
"A WHAT?"
The ground trembled.
The sky darkened.
A massive shape passed overhead—huge wings beating with terrifying force.
The man grabbed my wrist.
"We have to go. Now—"
The trees exploded outward as something enormous landed in front of us.
A dragon.
Not from movies.
Not from myths.
A real one.
Its scales shimmered frost-blue.
Its wings spread wider than any airplane.
Its eyes—molten gold—locked immediately onto me.
Cold mist spilled from its jaws.
And then, in a thunderous voice that shook the leaves off branches:
"Human."
The wolf-man moved in front of me instantly, teeth bared.
The dragon snarled back, frost curling around its claws.
The ground split under its weight.
And then—
Both males spoke at the same time, voices full of instinct and raw, territorial rage:
"She's mine."
My breath caught.
My heart stopped.
Because I understood, in that terrifying moment:
Wherever I was—
this world wasn't safe.
And these beings weren't either.
But something about me—
something I didn't understand—
had triggered them.
The wolf-man's body shook as he half-shifted, claws sprouting from his fingers.
The dragon leaned closer, frost cracking across the ground.
Both ready to fight.
Both ready to kill.
Over me.
And I didn't even know my own name anymore.
The dragon snarled.
The wolf growled back.
And I whispered the only thing that made sense:
"I'm going to die."
But the way they looked at me—
like I was scent, heat, destiny, danger, prophecy—
made me realize something far worse.
Death wasn't the threat.
Being claimed was.