Enchanting Beauty (The Twisted Villain Chronicles Book 1)

by Bianca Mckay

  Hours later, as the sun began its descent , casting pink hues in the sky, Dru was awakened by a sudden chill. His eyes opened sleepily, confusion blurring his thoughts as he glanced around, noticing Thame laying face down in the sand. There was an icy breeze coming off the sea, and the coolness caused his skin to sting as it brushed gently along his sunburnt flesh. Water splashed over Dru's feet, sending a chill up his spine as the image of him plunging into the sea flashed in his mind.

  "Hades' flaming balls," Dru breathed in horror as another wave splashed onto the shore, soaking his booted feet.

  Jumping to his feet, Dru raced on shaking legs to Thame, who, despite being drenched as well, was still fast asleep.

  "Brother, wake up," Dru said urgently, shaking Thame's unconscious frame.

  Thame did not so much as twitch, sending Dru into a full-blown panic. With no other choices as the tide rose higher, Dru backhanded his brother across his right cheek and swiftly brought his open palm back, slapping Thame on the left side. Thame's eyes snapped open, and in a blink, he had Dru beneath him, his arm raised and poised to strike in retaliation as his other hand wrapped tightly around his brother's throat.

  "You better have a good fucking reason for that, brother," Thame growled above him, his teeth bared in a snarl.

  "The tide," Dru gasped out as Thame's hand tightened around his neck.

  Without releasing his brother, Thame turned his head and saw that Dru spoke the truth. The tide would soon cover the small beach, and there would be nothing left separating the waves and cliffs.

  "We need to find a path, or we will have no choice but to scale the cliffs," Thame said.

  Dru coughed and gasped in much-needed air as Thame released him and jumped to his feet. Dru got to his feet, snatching Thame's leather satchel from the ground and tossing it to his brother. In front of them, there were cliffs, the crack between the two far too small for either of them to fit through. At the bottom of the crack was a wider opening that the brothers studied.

  "Do you think we could fit?" Dru asked.

  "Neither of us will be able to. A slender dog could, perhaps, but not two grown men," Thame said dismayed.

  Dru cussed under his breath, biting his lower lip as he looked around frantically. The slightest movement of his body caused Dru to wince as a sharp pain bloomed across his reddened skin, his only relief coming from the cool ocean spray that soothed the burned skin but elevated his panicking.

  "We have to climb, Thame," Dru whimpered.

  Dru swallowed hard as his brother cast him an annoyed glance, his cheeks flooding with shame. He knew that no one would ever consider him to be brave, but Dru was confident that one day, someone would see his wisdom and treasure him for his gentle kindness and curious mind. That day would never come, however, if Thame continued wasting time judging the width of the crevice. Balling his fists, Dru clenched his jaw and took a deep breath through his nose, steeling his nerves.

  "Thame, we need to climb the cliff," Dru said quietly, rolling his eyes at himself.

  Clearing his throat several times, Dru repeated himself much more forcefully.

  "We need to climb the cliff," Dru shouted, mildly embarrassed, but pleased that he had accomplished saying it at a volume in which Thame could hear.

  "So, we can fall to our deaths? Not fucking happening, brother," Thame snapped incredulously.

  The tide was moving closer, waves lapping against the shore just a couple of feet away from the cliffs now, and Thame was still studying the crevice as though he could force it to open wider if he glared at it long enough. Within the hour the waves would be crashing against the cliff walls, the beach would be underwater, and they would likely be dead.

  "Don't be such a coward, Thame. We have to hurry, which means we have to climb," Dru argued.

  Thame stood to his full height, taking an aggressive step towards Dru, which nearly caused him to falter in his conviction, but Dru held his ground.

  "I wasn't aware that I was the coward, Dru. Have we switched places? Are you now the brave and noble fighter, and I now know nothing of the world other than what I've read holed up in the dusty library of our father's palace?" Thame asked mockingly.

  An itching flush worked its way up Dru's neck, his hands trembling at the confrontation, but he was now thoroughly insulted, and his mouth spewed words back to Thame before he could calm the erupting anger within himself.

  "Brave and noble fighter?" Dru asked, chuckling mirthlessly. "Does sparring with the novice warriors make you brave or even skilled enough to consider yourself a fighter? Father would have no use for you in battle, other than for you to be cannon fodder. Hell, brother, you couldn't even play nursemaid, tending to the injured real warriors because you've never attempted to open anything more than a woman's legs! You may call me a coward, but at least I am not the dumb one trying to get the rocks to move with my fucking eyes."

  Thame's eyes flashed dangerously as his lip curled in disdain.

  "Maybe if you attempted to open something other than a book, you wouldn't be such a coward. You're wound up so tight all the gods blasted time that you cannot think for yourself! You think in facts, never forming your own opinions, original thoughts. Gods above, if you ever did lay with a woman, you'd probably start reciting sonnets, or you'd be so overwhelmed by the first experience of true joy that your brain would melt and ooze out of your ears," Thame shouted.

  "Oh yes, brother, true joy," Dru replied sarcastically. "Because we all know true happiness comes from rutting like mindless animals. Really good point."

  "You would take this much more seriously if you had, in fact, ever laid with a woman," Thame growled.

  "And you would be taking our predicament much more seriously if you had, in fact, ever drowned before, which will be happening shortly as we are still not fucking climbing!" Dru snarled back.

  The water was indeed covering the bottoms of their shoes now, and very little of the sandy beach remained above water. They had --at best--minutes to get a head start on the rising tide and climb towards safety. Every minute wasted arguing was another minute closer to their deaths. Dru felt the building pressure, could almost hear the faint ticking of a clock taunting him as the tide drew closer. Heart panging painfully, Dru's ire waned as despair clawed its way up to his throat, prickling his eyes as moisture pooled within them.

  "I meant none of that, brother. I just want you to know that. I was frustrated, panicking, and it was stupid. You're my best friend, Thame, and no matter what happens next, I--"

  "Oh, shut up, we're not going to die, little brother. We will do as you suggested and climb, but it won't be easy," Thame said, patting Dru on the back with a careless grin that didn't reach his eyes.

  Dru nodded, solemn in the face of their next task. His trembling limbs would hinder him on the climb, and he knew because there was plenty of truth to Thame's earlier words. Dru had hardly experienced anything outside of their library back home, and though he knew the theory and technique behind rock climbing and other outdoor activities, that knowledge was nothing compared to skill.

  "Just grab where I grab and step where I step," Thame said.

  Dru nodded once, thinking that it wouldn't be particularly that simple as Thame would be above him, but there was no time for questions or another argument. Thame stood eyeing the cliff face, hands on his hips, his head cocked. After several seconds, Thame reached out, grabbed hold of protruding rocky surface, and hoisted himself off the sand. Dru watched raptly as Thame seemingly slithered up the cliff until he was at least twenty feet high. If Dru did not hear the grunts of exertion, he would have thought that Thame was climbing effortlessly. As it was, Dru could hear the effort and could see the way Thame's muscles on his arms and back were bulging and straining to hold him up and carry him higher.

  "I'm going to die," Dru whispered miserably.

  Dru grabbed where Thame grabbed and struggled to pull himself up. It took several tries, but eventually, his feet were no longer cushioned by the sand; th
ey were precariously rested on jagged rocks. Putting one hand higher, then the next, Dru tried to focus on his movements and not on the fact that he could very easily plummet to his death. He stopped listening for Thame, putting all his faith into knowing his big brother could take care of himself because worrying about anything other than getting his shaking limbs to keep moving was going to cause him to fall.

  Time felt suspended like the world took a giant breath and was holding it until Dru either succeeded or failed. Dru couldn't tell if minutes or hours passed by or if he was still only feet off the ground. His palms were sweaty, his grip slipping several times, leaving only fierce determination and fear of dying to keep his other hand glued to the cliff. The sky was darkening, the day cooling. A chilly breeze tickled along Dru's back, sending a shiver racing down his spine. Hungry, thirsty, and tired, Dru longed to stop climbing, to lay down and sleep for a week.

  A large hand slapped Dru on the back, startling him. Limbs flailing, Dru fell for an excruciatingly long second, before he hung dangerously over the cliff's edge. Heart lodged in his throat, hammering wildly, Dru reached up and grabbed hold of Thame's arm, which had an unyielding grip on Dru's shirt. Thame pulled Dru over the edge, where Dru promptly laid down on the dirt and wept with relief, unashamed of how he may appear to his fearless brother.

  "You did good," Thame said, patting Dru's back consolingly.

  Dru huffed out a breath in response, before chuckling at the absurdity of the past day.

  "I am beginning to think father has sent us here to die," Dru said hoarsely.

  Thame's head bobbed up and down, and he looked to Dru with a raised brow.

  "The suspicion had entered my mind as well, brother," Thame said.

  Exhaustion beat at Dru, demanding he lay motionless as he caught his breath and relaxed his muscles, which were now protesting the slightest movements. His mind went to his father's intentions. It was rumored that King Thaddeus loved his sons so much that he went to great lengths to keep them safely secured within the palace grounds. A sighting of one of the two sons was rare, and even when one of the brothers was spotted, they were heavily guarded, and their outings never lasted long. The truth of the matter was that King Thaddeus did not truly trust either of his sons. Thame and Dru were kept within the palace because their father thought them not old enough to understand the courts, too naïve to navigate the liars and backstabbers, and just in case there came a time when neither of those was true, King Thaddeus believed it was much smarter to keep those capable of overthrowing you close enough that you could kill them before they killed you.

  King Thaddeus did love his sons, in his own way. Dru knew this to be true. But power has a way of poisoning even the purest of hearts and, over time, that power had turned King Thaddeus into a father who was cold and distant with his children, and warm and inviting to those who could assist him in amassing more power. That was the purpose of their trip now, the reason behind their grand scheme to enchant the beast of Jurot--more power. Their father wanted to control the land of Jurot, extend his kingdom, and tear down the haunted woods that rendered the most seasoned of Vildaheim's warriors useless and frightened.

  The real question on Dru's mind, however, was if King Thaddeus was willing to allow Dru and Thame to die for the sake of more power, more land.

  "We need to move," Thame said, jarring Dru from his dark thoughts.

  "Why?" Dru asked, wanting nothing more than to continue to lay on the solid ground and rest.

  "Because sooner or later we will fall asleep and wouldn't that be ironic? We make it all the way up here and into Jurot only to toss and turn right over the cliff's edge and die," Thame said with a snort.

  Dru groaned, forcing his body to move, his shaking arms barely capable of lifting him off the ground.

  "Yeah, that makes sense," Dru said as he sluggishly got to his feet.

  Ahead of them laid dark woods, only small patches of moonlight flitting through the canopy above. The brothers could see no farther than directly in front of them, a misty fog catching the light of the moon and distorting their vision. Twigs and rotting leaves crunched beneath their waterlogged boots, as their ears filled with the buzzing and chirping of the insects that dwelled within these woods. Deeper, they ventured, shuffling their feet as they searched for a decent place to camp for the night.

  "I think here will be good enough," Thame announced.

  Dru sighed with relief and quickly agreed. Neither of them could see any better here, nor was there any more space, but the fatigue weighing them down was so heavy that the brothers no longer cared about being comfortable or warm whilst they slept. Thame bent down and riffled through his spelled pack, tossing Dru a dry change of clothes. Dru promptly stripped bare, pulling on the fresh clothing with a sigh as his body warmed the tiniest bit. Dru walked to a low hanging branch and tossed his sopping wet clothing over it so that they could drip dry.

  "Don't move," Thame said in an ominous tone.

  Dru froze as Thame rushed over to him, a small dagger in his hand, his eyes darting between the trees. Deep, menacing growls reverberated through the woods, coming from every direction. The innocent sound of rustling leaves whispered closer to the brothers, the growls dying off and leaving silence in their wake. Dru's heart pounded against his ribs, terror rendering him paralyzed. A long, sinister howl broke through the silence, causing gooseflesh to pop up along Dru's arms, the hair at his nape standing on end. In a blink, a dozen yellow eyes appeared, surrounding the brothers in every direction, as the shape of enormous wolves stalked closer, their eyes on the brothers.

  Six: Distressed Damsels

  “Momma, what if the bad men who eat children find me one day?”

  “Then you feast on their hearts, bathe in their blood, and send their heads back to their kingdom.”

  Aribelle sighed deeply, the stress of the day melting away as she lounged in the hot spring. Her lips titled upward in a small smile as she watched the steam rise off the water and dance with the cool breeze wafting through her hidden spot. It wouldn't be long before someone else needed her opinion, her council, or her fangs in their flank, so she soaked up the few moments of peace she would have until then.

  Her head fell back as she rolled her shoulders, groaning low as her muscles relaxed. She brought her hand up to the tiny crystal that hung on a threaded string around her neck. The moonstone was different hues of blue, ranging from the darkness of the sea to the brightness of a clear sky, and it was imbued with magic. The magic wouldn't last long, of course, but as it infused her with a sense of peace and a semblance of self-control, Aribelle cherished every second that it held its magical charge. With every aging day, Aribelle's resistance to magic grew stronger, like part of her body was making her immune to the only thing that controls her curse --magic.

  Even as she toyed with the shimmering moonstone, she could feel the simmering rage begin to boil beneath her skin. The wolf within her longed to break free, to run, to hunt, to rage. Dropping the stone back to her chest, Aribelle swam towards the edge of the hot spring with slow strokes. She pulled herself up on the jagged black rocks and walked to where she laid her clothes. Drying off with a large deer hide, Aribelle paused as she heard the howling of wolves. A thrill shot up her spine as she recognized the call of the hunt. Hurriedly, she donned a pair of leather pants and a leather corset lined with sparkling black onyx crystals and her black fur-lined cloak. Dressed in her bespelled clothing, that wouldn't tear or get lost when she shifted, Aribelle let her wolf break free.

  One moment she stood a woman, the next, a five-foot-tall wolf with icy blue eyes and large fangs. Her paws hit the ground in rapid succession as she spurred herself on faster, eager for the hunt that would appease her feral nature. The wolf cared not what they would be hunting, be it rabbit or elk; the thrill was the same, and meat was meat. The wolf bared its teeth in a vicious sort of smile, relishing in the adrenaline that flooded through its four-legged figure.

  A woman's terrified scream rent t
hrough the air, causing Aribelle to skid to a stop. She let out a sound that was somewhere between a growl and a whine. Aribelle huffed out an exasperated breath through her snout, fury building in her stomach, boiling through her blood. The one chance at a hunt she had had in days ruined because now she would need to save someone, again. No matter how many times she explained that the wolves would see you as part of the pack as soon as you shift into your own wolf form, no one ever listened. Rather than just focusing on the shift, every single person panicked and called for help rather than acknowledge that they, too, were predators.

  Setting off again, Aribelle ran at a slower pace, hoping that the stupid woman would get mauled a bit before she rescued her. Maybe then, after losing a limb or two, the woman would reconsider her actions before being so careless. That happy thought cheered Aribelle up considerably and had her prancing towards the hunting party of wolves. She stalked on four legs through the trees, sniffing out the pack and finding them surrounding their prey. Aribelle snarled loudly, sending the other wolves scattering, then bending their heads in submission before turning and running off for another hunt.

  Aribelle resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She wasn't warning them off, but rather snarling about the unharmed state in which she found the two intruders. Hiding her surprise, Aribelle shifted back to her human form, chuckling darkly.

  "Oh, look what I found. Damsels in distress," Aribelle purred. "And here I thought I was coming to the rescue of some helpless maiden. Tell me, which of you screamed like that?"

  The taller of the two men who stood before her glared at, the shorter, sheepish looking man next to him.

  "My name is Thame," The taller man said in a rough voice. "This is my brother, Dru, who does happen to scream like a frightened woman."