Knight - Beautiful Beasts

Beautiful Beasts

Beautiful Beasts: Book One

N. Knight

This ebook is licensed to you for your personal enjoyment only.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the property of the authors imagination.

Beautiful Beasts Copyright 2019 by D20Kaiju LLC.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

No part of this work may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without prior permission in writing from the publisher except in brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

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Acknowledgements

No story is told in a vacuum. Special thanks to Professor Nathan Ridings for his help in developing my story, Michella Ames for her spectacular editing, and Adechintya for her stunning art. Id also like to also thank my wonderful bride for her continued love and support.

And finally, Id like to thank you, dear reader, for picking up this book and reading it. I hope you enjoy my world, characters, and the story. Bringing them all to life was terrifying in a way that no other piece Ive written before has been. Your enjoyment validates my efforts.

So, thank you.

Happy reading.

Chapter One

The Hunt

The noble hunting party charged through the clearing, the hooves of their horses creating a tempest of thunder and dust. The smell of horseflesh was almost enough to mask the invigorating fresh air of the forest. This close to proper civilization, without the threat of Rampant beasts, the forest was almost welcoming. The illusion was ruined only by the presence of the knight keepers harvested beasts sprinting alongside the hunting party in a defensive perimeter. Little more than animals with human shape, their presence was an offense that Loretta tolerated that she might prove her superiority over the peerage without making them feel too uncomfortable. Oh, what would those poor delicate flowers do without their knight keepers and their beasts to protect them?

Of course, it was not the knights or their disgusting creatures that occupied her thoughts now. Loretta Maradona, firstborn daughter of Duquesa Fiametta Maradona, future duquesa and head of the Maradona house, did not fail. Not even when her opposition shared her own blood.

Their quarry was an especially clever fox who had already avoided being shot twice, ducking around the roots and trunks of the nearby trees. Its cleverness would not avail it any longer. Lorettas younger sister, Sirena, pulled away from the group, anticipating the way the fox would turn, her single shot rifle at the ready. She raised it up and fired as the fox executed a pivot.

The shot very nearly struck. The fox twisted at the last second to double back, something warning it of the impending assault. Loretta watched and learned.

When next the fox made to dart away, she changed course, as her sister had, to pull away from the group. To do so, she had to break free of the perimeter. Suddenly there was a rainbow haired beast between her and the path to victory, the creature having failed to note the change in her trajectory. Loretta ran the human-shaped animal down. She would not fail just because an obstacle got in her way.

She raised her own rifle, a six-shot custom design built after the fashion of a revolver, and fired two shots. As before, the fox twisted awaystraight into the path of the second bullet.

Moments later, her chest swelled with pride as Loretta dismounted over her kill. Try as she might, she was unable to keep her triumph from her face. The early morning light filtered through the trees like golden curtains around her and her kill. Her horse, a bay mare with a white star on her forehead, stepped back and waited for her. The mare had remained calm even with the recent gun blasts and the pounding of nearby hooves, a testament to the training Loretta had personally overseen since the mare was a foal. Even the smell of blood did not bother the mare, though she was no warhorse. Loretta cared little for hunting or killing, but like her horse, she would not be put off by a little blood. Or a challenge.

Her fathers and the Maradona guests beasts circled them, as they had been trained to, quietly awaiting the orders of their keepers. Loretta would never admit it, but the things, so closely resembling true human women and yet so distinctly alien, had always made her uncomfortable. She ignored them, signaling for the one that had started to move forward to retrieve the kill for her to stop. Loretta thought she recognized her as one of her fathers, a tall specimen with curly violet hair that concealed her floppy ears and a shiny black nose. That nose had been broken too often for her face to be considered beautiful, or even cute, anymore. The beast backed away with a quick bow, as well trained as Lorettas steed, and Loretta reached the fallen fox.

It had been a clean kill. Barely any blood sprinkled the russet fur, and she picked it up to hold aloft as her father and his guests rode up, their remaining beasts running alongside them. Words of frustration and congratulations filled the woods, but none of them came from her father. None were needed. Duque Delmar Maradona sat tall and regal upon his roan stallion, the look of pride on his face as he looked down upon her louder to her senses than any of their guests words.

He dismounted with the help of the violet-haired beast that Loretta had waved away earlier and came forward. Taking the wrist of her hand holding the fox, he lofted her prize high for all to see. His words fell away in the thunderous applause, but their meaning was clear. With a great deal of ceremony, he dipped his fingers into the bullet wound and marked each of her cheeks with a dab of blood.

He turned once more to address the crowd. My daughter!

More applause. Loretta fought back tears. She loved and obeyed her mother, the Duquesa Maradona, in all things, but her heart was for her father. She had honored both of her parents with this hunt, surpassing the expectations of the firstborn daughter, and let their guests know that theirs was a house to be reckoned with. Even the faces of their neighbors and long-time rivals, the Robles, showed grudging respect. Her eyes immediately sought out Adriano Robles, the eldest son of Duquesa Robles, and if all went well tonight, her fianc.

It went unsaid, as it should, that he had only been allowed on this hunt that she might admire him. Or be distracted by him. A hunt was a place for diamond souled noblewomen, the rightful rulers of the world, not young, overeager men. Only older gentlemen, who had learned to master their eagerness and learn restraint, were usually allowed to ride with the hunt. Ride with them he had though, and he had ridden well, keeping pace without hindering any of the huntresses.

His admiration was not grudging like his sisters and mothers, but there was a smirking quality to it, as if she had done exactly as he had expected her to. That brought a quirk to her own lipsof course he should expect greatness from her. She was diamond souled, the eldest daughter of the Maradona family, and she had worked her ass off to be better than all that those innate blessings already made her. Everyone, especially the man she deigned to marry, should expect greatness from her.