B+Bs: To Stand In A Beast's World

57. Mitchell's City

Mitchell was growing anxious. The bond pulled at him constantly to return to Grace's side. There were even times he swore she was there when she wasn't. It drove him crazy.

He'd been denying the pull, trying to clean up the mess of a city his father left behind and his own mess of emotions. Finding something salvageable in both things was his goal.

He got somewhere with the emotions. The longer he had them, the more used to them he got. And the more used to them he got, the easier they became to control.

And with these settling feelings, he was able to reflect on his past actions. Often during those times, he found this urge to bury his face in the sand.

There was so much he should've been able to figure out on his own if he just sat and thought about it. Grace's actions from the time she lived here with him made sense now that he knew, but he felt foolish for not understanding before. It wasn't like he didn't have convenient soul stones lying around to use to understand emotions.

The more he thought about it, the stupider he felt. And the more idiotic he felt, the more convinced he was that he should stay put.

He'd be damned to be strung along by his own emotions like that. They were his, and he will control them. So he will stay put until he conquers himself completely.

And this city... he has to do something about it. Which is what he was attempting now.

But the rootless beasts were set in their ways and didn't take kindly to change. There were less than thirty rootless in the city willing to bow to his laws, but bow they did.

The scorpions naturally obeyed him, but they were used to the lawlessness of his father's rule. The only thing that kept them in line was benefits, namely, the females that were no longer used as such. For those of his kind that didn't flee or die, there were only about a hundred left.

But his father was no more. And while that made his heart twist with conflicting feelings of grief and relief, it did not stop him from taking full control. Or attempting to. His power, it would seem, was not great enough to force compliance.

But he still felt that was fine because he would do what he needed to do. Without his father breathing over his shoulder and pressing him for the soul stone or hosts, he could take a hard and critical look at his city.

Because he got to see an even larger city functioning and prospering, Mitchell could now see just how poor of a city this was. It was a city for the lost and rejected, ruled by fear and promises of female touch, nothing else.

There wasn't enough water to sustain a large population, even when the oasis was factored in. So beasts had to kill each other for survival. The scorpions could travel through the desert quicker with less thirst and reach water, but not the rootless beasts. The desert was too harsh for them to warrant those trips. It was easier to drink the blood of the others than go through that trouble.

So why did they gather here? Mitchell thought about it for a while and determined that it must be want. They were used to living in communities before suddenly being cast out. Was that the answer?

Mitchell scoffed, his aching body protested the action. What would Grace think of that: the rootless beasts, just being lonely?

They hated females but craved them. They were possessive but still used to sharing. What a contradiction.

Mitchell found it ironic. Rootless beasts were never deprived of their emotions, not all of them anyway. Even he wasn't an exception. How else could he explain his interest and curiosity toward Grace when she called on him for the first time? Or how his father desperately clung to his long-dead mate? The yearning was there for even those who lost their softer emotions.

A sardonic chuckle escaped him. Look at him being so empathetic. What would Grace say if she knew?

A smile formed only to disappear just as quickly. He was going crazy, and he didn't like it. He wanted to see her, but he couldn't yet. Not until he had something worth showing her. And not until he could perfectly control himself.

But this city... that was a problem he had an idea for. He smiled wide knowing what kind of chaos his upcoming declaration could cause. Even if this city became no more, he found himself unconcerned.

The thing he wanted from this city was a place to belong. The father who showed him twisted care was not here, nor was there anything that felt remotely fulfilling. Why cling to it then?

Mitchell stepped out into the sun and onto the dais. He called the remainder of this city's people to him before sharing what he intended to be his last words as the king of the City of Flame.