The beast and the blessed novel by Ashley Breanne novel Chapter 177

The Bear and The Beauty - One: Charlie

The Bear and The Beauty

Chapter One: Charlie

Charlie’s P.O.V.

I could hearthem laughing from here. There were a hundred yards of thick trees between us, and I could still hear them laughing at me.

The corner of my lips pulled up at the sound. Even if I was the butt of the joke, it felt amazing. Before them, I never had someone willing to treat me as an equal. Let alone to be so bold as to laugh at me to my face.

But as I grabbed a large glob of the thick green slime from my chest, I let a chuckle slip out too. It dripped through my fingers, stringing through them to the ground just as I reached the river's edge.

I deserved this. I knew better.

Yet, I still ended up covered in troll snot because I was careless. There were worse ways to end up after a battle with a rogue troll, but being drenched in their mucus was not my favorite.

Flicking my fingers to the side, the slime smacked loudly against the leaves of the overgrown bush next to me.

He would bring in a nice payday, but getting his remnants from my clothes and memory would take forever.

Oh, if my brother could see me now. He would be furious. Risking my life to chase monsters and sleeping in the forest with five men. Of course, they were in separate bed rolls and tents, but just thinking about him seeing how I lived now... I could picture the vein in Killian’s forehead threatening to burst.

He hated having his heir so far away and out from under his thumb. It was part of the reason why I left. Whenever he vocalized his dislike for my occupation, he always said it wasn’t suitable for 'the heir' to be putting herself in danger. Not once had he said he was worried about 'his sister.'

There was a big difference. One I resented.

As soon as I had the opportunity, I fled home like the hounds of hell were on my heels.

To be fair, they technically were. An angry Lycan was one thing, but the Lycan king? Forget about it.

A thick layer of sweat coated every inch of my body, and I excitedly eyed the water. The only good thing to come of accidentally puncturing the pocket of mucus that trolls had under their chin, like a croaking frog, was that I was given first rights to bathe.

As the only woman here, I usually let them go first.

Five filthy men waiting on one woman seemed unreasonable, even though they argued otherwise, but now it was my turn to enjoy the cool water instead of having to sit in damp clothing as the sweat dried along my skin.

Not bothering to remove my disgusting clothes, I waded into the water. The chill in the stream sent a shiver along my spine as I bent my knees and sank down. My hands fisted into the sand, and I rubbed it over my top first. It had been the easiest way for a quick clean, and when the small pebbles washed away through my fingers, I reached down and grabbed more.

Once I felt confident that the sludge had been forced from the fabric, I began the struggle of pulling the wet long-sleeve top from my body. I should have learned my lesson by now and switched to leather. The men had offered to make me some so I could sew it into a functional top, something easier to clean, but the idea of wearing that through the hot summer sounded horrendous.

I knew what those men smelled like by the end of the day. Somehow, it managed to be more pungent after a day of working around camp than when we were out stalking, chasing, and slaughtering creatures for the bounties.

How that happened, I had no idea. While I appreciated my family of misfits and monster hunters, I didn't want to smell like them.

I rang out my top before climbing back up the river bank and laying it over the rocks to dry. I knew I would still go to bed with it at least damp and would have to hang it up around camp, but it was better than it crusting with mucus. My pants were next, and as I pulled them over my thighs with a groan, my heel caught a rock and sent me down on my ass.

A sharp cry left my lips as the uneven stones beneath me bruised my tailbone, and I kicked the fabric free from around my ankles.

I didn't bother to lay them out. They deserved their punishment of sitting tangled up in a wet ball for the time being.

'Hm,' A deep hum of amusement reached my ears, and my cheeks burned brightly as I looked up. A beast of a man was bent over the bank of the river almost 20 yards downstream, rinsing what looked like blood from his hands. His thick forearms were massive, and the veins were prominent as his large hands splashed water over them.

His broad chest and shoulders made my mouth go dry, and my jaw dropped at his size. Growing up surrounded by Lycans, I was used to shirtless, muscular men walking around. But he put them to shame. I was sure if one wanted to, a full-grown Lycan could hide behind him, and no one would be the wiser.

His dark eyes were alight with amusement, with his eyebrows raised as he held my stare and continued to clean himself. I couldn't tell if they were a deep brown or black from the distance, but I wanted to find out. I felt stuck in place for a moment as the breeze shifted and his delicious scent wafted over to me. I had never smelt anything so enticing before.

It was addictive and burned into my mind. I could drown in it and would greet the Goddess with open arms and thank her for creating such a perfect man and smell before ever even meeting him.