Free Web NovelChapter 142: Devouring Him (1)
Kestrel had snuggled close in Ren’s arms for what felt like forever, truly convinced that he was her exclusive alpha. She felt that she could be with him as long as her heart desired.
When she finally decided to get up, moving away from the cozy warmth of Ren’s chest, she was struck by a sudden cold feeling. It hit her that she could now differentiate between feeling cold and feeling warm.
Realizing happiness and anger, sensing cold and heat; there was a definite shift happening inside of her.
But alongside this, almost like she was scared of these changes, her hunger grew more intense.
A powerful hunger blazed within her, making a part of her feel hollow, like there was an empty space inside. Deep inside her, there was this voice, impossible to ignore, urging her to eat and satisfy this emptiness.
Thankfully, Kestrel recognized the importance of Ren, her exclusive alpha, and she was certain about one thing: she didn’t want to hurt him, no matter what.
The underground city was filled with food options for her. Numerous tiny lights sparkled in the darkness, each one a promise of rich psychic energy, enticing her to go on a hunt.
"I’ve got to get something to eat. I’m starving," thought Kestrel as she moved her tendrils and began making her way to the den’s entrance.
Ren, sensing something wasn’t right with Kestrel, grew worried. From the time he discovered her in this subterranean world, she hadn’t seemed herself. She now stood in front of Ren in a totally altered form, barely looking like a normal human.
Yet, in this instance, Kestrel stirred a deep fear within him.
The very second Kestrel detached from his embrace, something inside Ren screamed that he needed to grab onto her without delay.
It might have been their deep spiritual bond that raised the alarm, or perhaps just a gut feeling from Ren, but a powerful urge surged through him.
He felt a compelling need to keep her close, to prevent her from leaving at this particular time.
He shouted her name, trying to get her attention. But Kestrel seemed lost, moving to the entrance as if some unseen force or sound was guiding her.
He made a move to grab Kestrel, but her slick tendrils just slipped right through his fingers. He was still adjusting to the heightened sensitivity, so he couldn’t grip the large Kestrel with enough strength.
"I have to keep Kestrel here, no matter the cost," Ren determinedly thought.
...
Upon reaching the lair’s entrance, Kestrel detected an odd sound, reminiscent of the ocean with waves crashing onto rocks, and perhaps a big fish stranded by the shore.
She turned, and to her surprise, she saw a sleek, jet-black fishtail making its presence known in the faintly lit den. The moist, expansive tail fin moved gracefully, offering a playful wave in the air.
Suddenly, the cave’s fire blazed brightly, only to dim back down quickly. The atmosphere seemed charged with a mesmerizing and alluring aroma, as if it was wafting up from the deep abyss of the sea.
Kestrel watched as Ren, whom she had left further back in the cave, struggled to his feet in the dim glow.
In the dimness, his skin appeared ghostly, adorned with flowing black designs over his sculpted abs. Where his legs once were, now sprawled a long, glistening fishtail.
There he was—a creature with the torso of a man and the tail of a whale—marooned in her den.
Drenched and trapped, his body bore wounds and streaks of blood. He looked like a sea being who had been captured, resting in the damp shadows, his piercing eyes fixed on her. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm
Kestrel’s mind whirled. She was torn: part of her, driven by hunger, urged her to continue her hunt for food, while another part felt an inexplicable draw, wanting to return to the mysterious fish-man.
"How did he know?" she pondered in amazement. "How did he figure out that a humanoid fish with a black fin and pale belly is my ultimate favorite?"
Ren, in his new half-fish form, extended his hand. Now without gloves, his delicate fingers were laid bare. He managed to catch one of Kestrel’s tendrils that hadn’t slipped away.
His intense gaze met hers, his cheeks flushed, as he tenderly touched the tendril.
The tendril, usually so nimble under Kestrel’s command, stilled. A shiver coursed through her, feeling as though her very heart was captured by that gentle grasp.
Forgetting her hunger and stopping her quest for ’food,’ Kestrel rushed back into the depths of the den. "This alpha is way too clever, such a crafty pretender, and expertly cute. He’s completely read my book."
Still, there was no denying her deep attraction to him and his ’tricks.’
"This fishtail is such a delight to touch, so silky and tender," she thought as her tendrils enveloped the tail, buzzing with contentment.
The mood here carried the unmistakable aroma of the sea. The cave’s firelight was faint, punctuated by the sound of water droplets.
The fishtail flicked playfully, enveloped by intertwining tendrils.
Surrounded by her tendril nest, Kestrel toyed with the tail’s end, fixating on a little jutting fishbone. It provided her with a tranquil sensation. It felt like a cozy, familiar setting, where, in dim light and a drowsy haze, she could leisurely engage with this fishtail. It was her haven—the coziest spot imaginable, albeit a bit chaotic, with a grassy yard.
The overpowering hunger she felt earlier now seemed to be dissipating, drifting away.
Kestrel yawned, overcome with fatigue. It felt like ages since she had rested properly, and now, all she yearned for was a deep, rejuvenating slumber.
In a dim, shadowy cave, tendrils wrapped snugly around Ren, while Ren’s arm comfortably rested atop one of the squishy tendrils. All of t hem, snug as two bugs in a rug, were deep in dream, cozy in their underground slumber spot.
Hours later, Kestrel stirred, feeling as if the sun was rising. But here in this sunless Eyehole, there was no sunrise or sunset—just endless dark. The only thing that told her it was "morning" was her body’s inner alarm clock.
She gave a big stretch, the gnawing emptiness of hunger now a distant memory.
But something felt off. Her tendrils, once mighty and sprawling, seemed weaker. They’d shrunk and didn’t roam as far in the underground city as they used to. It felt like her connection to this underground world was getting patchy, like a phone losing its signal.
Back in the day, Kestrel felt totally plugged into this Polluted Zone. It was like the world was part of her, and she was part of it. Her tendrils, like never-ending vines, explored every nook and cranny of the underground. She felt unbeatable, like a superhero, knowing all and being everywhere at once. But over time, she felt more distant, like she was losing touch.
Now, that super-close bond felt cut. It was like Kestrel was snapping out of a weird dream. Hazy memories hinted that she wasn’t really from this underground world. She should be up top, living life as a regular human.
Then, she noticed something: amid her many tendrils, a bare foot peeked out, sporting a fresh purple mark around its ankle—a classic tendril hickey.
As she stared, the foot’s owner tugged it back, hidden again.
"I need some clothes," came a calm and deep voice from within the tendril nest, sounding like he was asking for something as simple as passing the salt.
Yet, Kestrel, being a beta, could sense the strong emotions bubbling within the alpha. She could tell he was getting super hot, like a phone left in the sun.
Memories flooded back as she mumbled, "Yes, I’m a beta."
But thinking about the past could wait. Kestrel knew she had a job: find clothes for Ren before he got too hot. Just yesterday, he’d gone full transformer mode, turning half-incarnation with a huge fishtail—trashing his outfit in the process.
Pushing her tendrils aside, Kestrel felt her legs under her skirt and wobbled out of the cave. It was weird; it felt like she’d forgotten how to walk.
