Chapter 12 - Snow White's Son

Translator's Note:

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A year had passed since the Beast first began visiting the tower, and in that time, Crow had turned seventeen. Through the autumn, when the forest blazed with the colors of crimson and gold, and through the winter, when snow blanketed the land in a serene white, Crow had never once felt the sting of loneliness. For that, he owed everything to the Beast.

 

Each time the Beast climbed the tower, he arrived as a savage creature, driven by his pure, primal instinct. Crow would use his long hair to pull the wild beast upward, securing him with gentle bindings as he stroked his fur and brought the enchanted bracelet, left behind by the elves, to the Beast's nose. The seven stones woven into it held a power—one that would calm the creature and transform him back into a man. As Crow sang a lullaby, the red in the Beast's eyes would slowly fade, replaced by a deep, kind blue, and the ferocity would give way to the gentle grace of a true gentleman.

 

Yet, as the year wore on, it took longer and longer for Crow to begin his song each time.

 

—How I long to touch him...

 

Even now, while the Beast's eyes still gleamed a fierce red and he growled low in his throat, Crow couldn't help but let his gaze wander over his body. The Beast stood before him, entirely bare, and though his thick fur covered most of him, his manhood was in plain sight. Even when bound by Crow's hair, the Beast thrashed wildly, exposing more than Crow dared look at.

 

He knew he should sing the lullaby and restore the kind, gentle Beast to his human form, but Crow couldn't tear himself away from this fleeting moment. The thought crept into his mind—if he loosened the restraints, would the Beast, just as he had on that fateful first night, pounce upon him with raw, unbridled lust?

 

Would he claim Crow with fierce kisses, bite down on him, feast upon his flesh, and drain him of all he had, just as he had done before? And then, in his savage fury, would he force his manhood into Crow, filling him in a way that was both painful and filled with ecstasy?

 

Crow shivered at the thought. The pain, at first, might be unbearable. But perhaps, just as before, it would soon be replaced by pleasure. Even if it were agony, Crow didn't mind. He longed to be wanted, just as he had been that night one year ago, when the Beast had taken him without thought or hesitation.

 

—Beast, forgive me… I know I should sing soon... I know you are suffering, bound like this...

 

Crow wasn't sure when it began, but somewhere along the way, he had come to desire the Beast's body—to stare, to touch, to linger in the moments when he was still unbridled.

 

But once the Beast regained his senses, he remembered everything—from his time as both creature and man. Crow could not act on his desires without them being discovered later. And so, he always performed the same charade, delaying the song under the guise of struggle, while secretly savoring the sight of the Beast's well-formed physique—his proud manhood, his firm muscles, his broad chest.

 

—When you leave... when I'm alone in my bed... I feel strange around my buttocks… I think of you… and your body, especially your manhood, and my flesh starts burning, my core aches, and I thirst for the thick milk you would give...

 

Crow had taken the seed of elves countless times, deep in his throat, but he wondered what it would feel like to receive the Beast's essence deep inside him. Would the Beast lose his breath as he took him? Would his hips move with strength, with power? Would his expression be more sensual than usual when he climaxes?

 

He shook off his thoughts and began to sing the lullaby, his heart full of tenderness as he watched the Beast thrash and groan. Of course, Crow preferred the rational version of the Beast—the gentle, blue-eyed man. He wished to see him soon, to speak with him, to bask in his wisdom.

 

Yet, as soon as he regained his senses, he would wrap himself in Crow's large, hooded cloak, covering his furred body from sight.

 

—Beast... Please, notice my longing...

 

It wasn't that Crow truly wanted to be ravaged by the wild, mindless Beast. No, what he truly yearned for was the blue-eyed, gentle Beast—to be desired by him, passionately, without restraint. That was Crow's deepest wish.

 

But Crow feared baring his heart, worried that revealing his desires might shatter the fragile bond between them. He couldn't shake the feeling that, no matter how much he longed for it, the day when the rational Beast would hold him close in love might never come.

 

"Good evening, Beast," Crow greeted softly.

 

"Good evening, Snow White… Did I give you trouble again tonight?" the Beast replied, his sapphire eyes now gleaming with warmth.

 

Thanks to Crow's lullaby, the Beast had transformed into the young man with eyes like sapphire stones again. Though his body was still cloaked in fur thick enough to call him a creature of the wild, his manner was unmistakably that of a gentleman. To Crow, he was not only a companion but a mentor, one he looked up to with admiration.

 

"Yes, it was a little difficult. But it's all right, there was no danger."

 

"I'm sorry... I try to control it, but there are times I cannot," the Beast apologized, his voice filled with remorse.

 

Crow smiled softly, reassuring him with a gentle, "It's all right." Yet, as he handed the Beast his usual red cloak with the large hood, his heart felt heavily conflicted.

 

Now that Crow had turned seventeen, a fierce conflict had taken root in his heart. There was a part of him that wondered—what if he simply allowed himself to be overpowered by the wild Beast? What if he let the savage instincts take over, and through that, they might change the nature of their relationship?

 

Crow knew this would burden the man with unbearable guilt once he regained his senses. Yet, the man was so serious, so upstanding, that Crow feared there would never be any progress between them otherwise.

 

—If I were to approach him first, perhaps he would never come to me again. But if he were to commit such a sin, perhaps he would take responsibility...

 

Crow found himself trapped in a painful dilemma: should he gather his courage and face total rejection, or should he resort to a more devious path, hoping it would eventually lead them to become true lovers? Was there a better way? He didn't know.

 

The Beast, unaware of Crow's inner struggle, quietly took his seat at the table, lowering the hood of his cloak to hide his face from view. As always, he sat beside Crow, avoiding direct eye contact. He even wore gloves to cover the fur on his hands, gripping his pen carefully.

 

At first, Crow had been startled by the Beast's incredible hairiness. But by now, he had grown used to it, even finding it endearing. To Crow, it was just another part of the Beast's unique charm, though the Beast himself remained deeply self-conscious about it. If he ever discovered that Crow had spent time gazing at his naked body before he regained his senses, he would surely be mortified.

 

"On this continent, every decade or so, we are plagued by droughts and famine. During these times, many of the people suffer under the burden of heavy taxes," the Beast began, unrolling a map of the land as he introduced the night's lesson on the history of Green Valley and its heroes.

 

"Did the royal family and nobility tax the people so harshly out of cruelty?" Crow asked, his curiosity piqued.

 

"No, it wasn't cruelty. The rulers had to maintain appearances, so the kingdom would not appear weak to neighboring nations. They had to collect heavy taxes to sustain their power and defend the land," the Beast explained, pointing to the borders on the map with the tip of his pen.

 

Green Valley was surrounded by allied nations, but during times of famine, those same countries faced similar hardships. This meant that other nations might invade to seize the stored food supplies.

 

Prince Priss, once the second prince of Auden, now ruled as king, bringing strength to Green Valley. Yet, there were still many allied nations with whom no familial ties had been forged.

 

"There was once a miraculous plant—the potato—that saved the people from starvation. Though it was once called the 'devil's plant' because its sprouts were poisonous, a brilliant researcher discovered a safe way to cultivate and consume it, sharing this knowledge across many lands. Thanks to him, famine is no longer as terrifying as it once was. Today, he is remembered as a hero."

 

"A hero..." Crow murmured, his thoughts lingering on the word.

 

"Yes, not all heroes win their glory on the battlefield. I believe the title belongs to those who bring happiness to people across borders, across classes, without seeking personal gain," the Beast said softly.

 

Though the Beast's expression was hidden beneath his hood, Crow could feel the warmth in his voice, bright and full of cheer. It was clear that the Beast rejoiced from the bottom of his heart, knowing that the spread of the potato had saved so many lives from starvation.

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