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This was more food than I’d ever seen in a sitting. And certainly nothing that I could ever finish on my own.
“Is it to your liking?” he growled out.
I looked up at him, slowly dragging my tongue along my bottom lip before pulling the flesh between my teeth. I didn’t miss how he glanced down to watch the act. He slammed his hands down on the table, his expression showing frustration as his head lowered, his gaze still watching my mouth.
His nails dug into the wood, creating gouges that sounded so loud I pressed my back to the chair, trying to make myself as small as possible as a fearful noise left me.
His growls grew louder, and as if he caught himself, he pulled his nails out of the wood and cleared his throat. For a second he didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, and kept his focus off of me.
“Eat,” he finally said and ran his paw over his face and fangs. His chest was rising and falling as he looked down at his platter, his beastly, bushy eyebrows pulling down low as he stared at his food.
He didn’t wait for me to obey before he tore into his own food.
I felt my eyes widen and my mouth go slack, and I couldn’t stop watching as he devoured his food. And that was exactly what I was witnessing.
There was nothing formal or delicate, noble or human, in the way he ate. His paws and claws were swift as he picked up the chicken and tore at the meat with his sharp teeth, growling and snarling as if he were ravenous.
Meat was flying everywhere as he shoved it in his mouth, then he attacked the vegetables, potatoes, and pieces of carrots and onion scattered around the tabletop, covering his face and all of his fur.
I concealed my mouth with a hand and kept watching him, but when he glanced up and saw my undoubtedly horrified look, he froze. After looking down at the platter, then at my untouched one, then back into my eyes, I felt a strange sort of amusement spring to life in me.
“I, ugh,” he said in that strange, deeply distorted voice of his. He ran the back of his paw over his mouth and reached for his wine goblet, guzzling it so fiercely the ruby-red liquid dribbled down his hairy chin and chest.
I burst out laughing then, unable to stop the humor I found in this very unconventional situation.
“I’m sorry,” I finally said and wiped the tears from my eyes. “I’ve just never seen anyone be so ravenous—” My words stilled when he suddenly stood, looked at me ferociously, then stormed off.
I sat there alone, feeling all kinds of shame that I’d clearly humiliated and offended him. The instinctual part of me pushed forward, and I was about to stand and go to him, when I heard a crash and ear-splitting growl that seemed to shake the entire castle.
So I stayed right where I was because I really didn’t want to approach the Beast when I was the one who’d just pissed him off.
