Seduced by the Beast by Jaide Fox Page B

movement.
                Raphael pushed
her to the boundaries of her endurance and beyond.  Each league felt like a
hundred, and she soon realized that no matter how much it galled her that she
could not hide her weakness, she simply could not hold out.  No training could
match that of a shifter.  Her stamina had collapsed, and he had not even broken
a sweat.
                Finally, when she
could run no more, she dropped to the ground.  She gasped, clutching a stitch
in her side, her lungs heaving as she struggled for breath, her heart pounding
as if it would explode in her chest.
                He stopped and
stood over her while she gathered herself.  She wanted to strangle him, even if
he was doing this for her.  At that moment, she felt like she could gladly curl
up and die, if only for the rest.
                Without a word,
he bent and swept her into his arms.  She yelped, shocked, and threw her arms
around his neck for support.  He stooped and grabbed the fallen baskets before
taking off once more at a full run.
                She was no petite
bit of fluff, no lightweight, and yet he carried her effortlessly, as though
she were no more than a part of himself.  Weary beyond belief, she settled her
face against his neck.  Within moments, her nostrils filled with him.  His
subtle pheromones sent her blood to roaring.  The burning need began to surface
like a live thing, insidious, creeping through her being and devouring logic
and control.  Desire this potent was not, could not be, natural.  Swan jerked her
face away, and his arms tightened around her, holding her snugly.
                “Put me down,”
she said, thinking only that she must put distance between them before she
shamed herself.
                As he had from
the time they had left, he ignored her.
                The fact that he
did not even dignify her request with a response only fueled her fear and
anger.  “Now, beast!” she commanded, her tone harsh, her voice shrill with
consternation.
                The moment the
words left her mouth, she realized what she’d said was unforgivable, but it was
too late to snatch the words back, and her control was too tenuous for her to
care greatly.  She could not desire him.  It would have been impossible were he
any stranger, but this was far worse even than that.  He was not of her own
kind. He was a beastman.
                His jaw clenched,
the muscles working.  “Your prejudice is ugly.  It taints your beauty,” he
said, biting each word off.
                Swan glared at
him, thankful for the dowsing anger that curbed her unwelcome appetite.  “There
has been little enough proof that beastmen deserve my regard.”
                He tensed as if
she’d slapped him.  “And yet you expect the help of a beastman?”
                “I do not need a
lecture on the virtues of Shadowmere.  Let me down and I will seek my own way,”
she snapped unwilling to yield even knowing she had spoken in a way she should
not have.
                He’d shamed her. 
She had acted abominably, throwing his charity in his face.  Never would she
have done so to another.  Diplomacy had always been one of her strongest
assets, but with Raphael, she lost all sense of reason.  She should apologize,
she knew, but it had been so long since she had, she found she could not force
herself to speak the words.  Her throat closed up, her pride refusing to
budge. 
                He’d done nothing
but pick her up when she’d fallen, help her when she required it.  Still, the
words would not come.
                She should have
been ashamed of herself.  In fact, she was, and the feeling of reproach was
alien to her.  It made her angry at herself.
                His arms
tightened around her, and he continued his pace.
                “I