The Beauty’s Beastly Wolf - Jenesis St. Clare - Chapter 1 - Gray

Jul 31, 2026

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A cursed young wolf in autumn endures starvation, lingering magic, and the death of his partner while surviving as a lone guardian of a hidden valley. After humans slaughter his pack, he drags himself toward a distant village where cooking meat and fruit trigger memories of love, mates, and renewed purpose. Haunted by guilt for the partner he failed to protect, he follows the scent of a potential mate through injuries and winter’s harshness, seeking a final chance to live.

LanguageEnglish

CategoryStory & Novel

FormatPDF

Pages107

Reading Time2 h 45 min

AccessFree to download

Chapter 1

Gray

[OceanofPDF.com](OceanofPDF.com) The Beauty’s Beastly Wolf Copyright © 2026 by Jenesis St. Clare All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. [OceanofPDF.com](OceanofPDF.com) Contents 1. Gray 2. Maris 3. Gray 4. Maris 5. Gray 6. Maris 7. Gray 8. Maris 9. Gray 10. Maris 11. Maris 12. Maris 13. Gray 14. Gray 15. Maris 16. Gray 17. Maris 18. Gray 19. Maris 20. Gray 21. Maris Epilogue About the Author Also by Jesesis St. Clare [OceanofPDF.com](OceanofPDF.com) CHAPTER 1 Gray THE CURSE of seven years burns in my blood, but it doesn't matter. I won't live long. A cool autumn breeze ruffles my fur, bringing with it the stench of death. I wrinkle my nose but don't have the energy for more than that, save a soft growl that rumbles through my throat. The body of the other wolf is a dark shadow at the corner of my vision, a brutal reminder of the curse that now lays entirely on my bloody shoulders. And bloody paws, too weak to protect him. My partner. Not my mate; we are too young for that, and there are none of the signs my parents had told me to expect. But we were the last two wolves strong enough to hold the seven year curse, to protect the humans in the valley below from the evil the curse will wreak if left unchecked. Now my partner is dead, and the curse aches in my body. If my injuries don't kill me, the curse will. Although starvation might get me first. Trapped in my wolf form, there's little I can do to feed myself, especially when I'm too weak to hunt anything that isn't already dead. For generations the rest of the pack has supported the cursed wolves, ensuring we are safe and well fed so our bodies are strong enough to fight off the curse that lingers in the air like a stagnant whiff of death. Now my pack is gone, killed by humans who hunt us for our "unholy" ways, and so is my cursed partner. I am all alone. What is the point? Even if I had the energy to hunt, which I don't, most creatures have already begun to bed down for the winter. The birds have gone south to warmer climes, and a thin layer of frost covers what few plants still live. The frost bites against my tongue and I wrinkle my nose, dropping my muzzle back to my paws with a soft huff. As a wolf, I am more limited on things I can eat than I am in my human form, a fact I found out the hard way when my stomach first violently rejected plants that are perfectly safe for me to eat in human form. I am a wolf, but if I could survive this winter by grazing like a goat, I would. Blood and fire have taken my pride from me. The wind turns, ruffling my matted fur, abandoning the scent of death and bringing with it something altogether sweeter. Cooking meat and some sort of fruit, but more than that. Something that makes my instincts shiver, both the human and wolf within me humming softly in agreement. I lift my head, nostrils flaring as I whine softly. Opening my mouth to allow my tongue to loll gives me a better sense of the direction it's coming from, and what it is. My ears perk up, searching for any hints of danger. Before their deaths in fire and iron, the elders of my pack told me about love, about mates, about the other half of my soul. The urge to be with them starts with scent, they said, but that's only attraction, not love. Love requires effort, courting. Bringing bits of food, proving common interests, showing them that I am a worthy mate. With the death of my pack, I had expected never to find a mate. I will likely not last the winter as it stands, but this... this scent, this tug in my belly, it fills me with a renewed sense of purpose. If I have a mate, perhaps my life—what little is left of it—might yet be worth living. Whining softly, I force myself

FAQs

What curse burdens the wolf narrator?

A seven-year curse burns in his blood, and if his injuries do not kill him, the curse likely will.

Why does the narrator believe he is alone?

His partner Fabian and the rest of his pack were hunted down and killed by humans, leaving him as the last living cursed wolf.

What draws the wolf narrator toward the village?

Cooking meat and fruit scents, along with the scent of a potential mate, reignite his sense of purpose and drive him to move toward the village below.

Jul 31, 2026

Upload by Riley