Enchanting Beauty (The Twisted Villain Chronicles Book 1)

by Bianca Mckay

  Her tent sat illuminated beneath the moon's glowing eye. She could hear voices coming from within, talking over one another, deep in a heated debate. The words were not clear, but she could see their shadows gesturing wildly, as their voices rose. All at once, the heads snapped towards the direction of the opening of the tent, as though those inside the tent could sense her presence as she approached. Aribelle swallowed down her trepidation and marched forward with her chin held high and her shoulders back. She could not be cowed by these intruders, no matter how outnumbered she was, she had fangs and claws and could defend herself easily against mere weakling humans. They were in the wrong, in her tent, without her permission. If it was one of her people, they would pay for this invasion of privacy with their life. Tossing the flap of the tent open, Aribelle walked inside, hostile and furious that anyone had dared to enter her domain whilst she was away.

  Thame lay on the pallet of blankets, his head propped up on pillows. He looked worse than before; his entire body now covered in a bluish tint. No one else was inside the tent, but Aribelle decided it did not matter if she was delusional and hallucinating. As long as Thame was here, nothing else mattered, other than finding a way to save him. Suddenly, a deep baritone spoke, their voice booming in the tent, startling Aribelle.

  "Your fangs or claws,

  would give him paws,

  and save the prince's life.

  Beware the truth,

  should you not sleuth,

  you'll never be his wife."

  "Wife?" Aribelle sputtered. "I have no desire to marry anyone! Hello? Can you hear me? Show yourself! He has not asked for my hand, nor will I offer it for your information!"

  When no answer came, Aribelle huffed, flustered at the rhyme. She recited it several times over to herself, trying to make sense of the words, but the only word that kept jumping out at her was the one that implied she would marry Thame. Mayhap she should do some sleuthing to ensure that she never becomes his wife. Thame likely wanted a docile wife who would be content with housekeeping and childrearing, and she was probably the farthest away from being docile than any woman Thame had met before. No, her future husband would have to be accepting of her true nature, understanding of what it meant to be a ruler; he would also have to be funny and charming, easy on the eyes, romantic at times, and willing to teach her about trust and relationships which were the things she was most inept with.

  Looking at Thame as he coughed and hacked, wheezing with every breath, Aribelle realized that she already had everything she could want in a husband right in front of her. She had to save him, even if he wanted to leave after he was healed. Goddess, if only Aeson would hurry up! She thought frantically.

  "Your fangs or claws," Aribelle mumbled to herself, trying to remember. "Will save the prince's life."

  Aribelle walked in circles in the tent, her finger tapping her chin as her mind raced to figure out the riddle.

  "Do you mean I must bite or maul him?" She asked aloud, curiously.

  Neither of those options sounded like saving his life to Aribelle. Now, if the poem was an instructional guide on how to kill him faster, she would understand why the voice was encouraging her to bite or maul Thame, but it didn't make sense to do either of those in order to save his life.

  "Would give him paws, and save the prince's life," Aribelle repeated.

  Her eyes rounded, her jaw dropping as the realization hit her. Hope bloomed in her chest, her breaths coming in pants.

  A howl rented through the air, alerting Aribelle to Aeson's arrival and jolting her out of her dream. She was still on the tree limb, but night had fallen, blanketing the sky in darkness as stars twinkled down upon the earth. The moon cast a bright glow upon the forest, illuminating her path of golden leaves. Everything was the same as her dream, she noticed, and she broke out into a run.

  If anyone could save Thame, it would be Aeson, who had studied medicine for years in Gysodd before coming to Jurot. She had witnessed Aeson stitch wounds closed in seconds, cure illnesses in hours, and mend broken bones within days. If all else failed, including Aeson, then she would do what her dream had told her to--she would bite Thame. She did not know if he would be happy living a life with a wolf counterpart, but she reasoned with herself that a wolf-Thame was better than no Thame and hoped he would see it the same.

  She had seen countless people get turned and then turn on Agatha or take their own lives because of what they became. It wouldn't be easy, transitioning into a wolf, or learning how to shift, hunt, or defend himself, but Aribelle was confident that he could. Selfishly, a small part of her hoped that she would have no choice but to save him her way because then he would be more inclined to remain in Jurot.

  "I am disgusting," Aribelle mumbled to herself, disappointed in the direction her thoughts were going.

  Her tent came into view, shadows moving from the other side of the canvas. She heard people arguing, just like in her dream, only this time she heard the distinct voices of both Wren and Aeson. Both were gesturing wildly, their hands flailing about, pointing fingers in the other's face, and shouting incoherently. Their heads snapped towards the opening upon hearing Aribelle approaching.

  Aeson walked out, followed shortly by Wren.

  "Alpha, I have examined the patient," Aeson said with a respectful bow of his head.

  "And?" Aribelle snapped impatiently.

  Goddess, she hated the theatrics, she groused internally. She hated the pregnant pauses and the word games. Couldn't anyone just say what they meant or tell the whole story anymore?

  "And there is nothing I can do for him, other than assure he is comfortable up until the time of passing," Aeson said somberly.

  "Leave," Aribelle ordered.

  Wren and Aeson stared at her, uncomprehending her dismissal.

  "Wren, go to your tent with Druas. Aeson, if there is nothing you can do, then I have no use of you here. Go back to the pack in case anyone falls ill or is injured," Aribelle said in a monotone.

  She did not wait for either of them to acknowledge her command, nor did she wish to speak further with them. She needed a few minutes with Thame before it was too late. She was out of time to tell him how she felt, how much she appreciated his companionship this past week. She needed to tell him that he would always own that little piece of her heart that he stole. And she needed to explain just how sorry she was that the only other option for saving his life was turning him into a monster, like her.

  Fourteen: Corrupted Hearts

  “Do you promise to take me to the festival, Momma?”

  “Even if I did promise, my beauty, you should know better by now to never trust anyone but yourself.”

  "What are you doing here?" Dru sneered as Aribelle entered the tent.

  He was sitting at Thame's side, tucking the blankets underneath him to ward off the chill of the evening air. Aribelle wrung her hands together nervously, not wanting to start a fight with him. What she needed was for him to leave so that she could have the chance to save Thame without anyone else knowing what she was about to do. If this worked, Thame's life could be saved in an excruciatingly painful manner. If she failed, his life would end sooner than expected, in an excruciatingly painful manner. Either way, she did not want the aggressive asshole brother in the room with her when she bit Thame.

  "I-I just wanted to say goodbye," She stuttered, in an effort to sound timid.

  When Dru snorted in disbelief, she knew that her performance was not the least bit convincing. She rolled the sleeves of her tunic up to her elbows, glaring at Dru menacingly.

  "You either let me have a moment alone with him, or I knock you out and take my moment alone with him. You have had a screwed-up perception of Jurot from the instant I met you in that wood. Being a prince of another kingdom gives you no authority here. You do not get to tell me what I can and cannot do. What you have to do is get the fuck out of my way. Here, in my tent, in my kingdom, you have no say in anything.

  "You've been sent here to spy o
r ambush Jurotian people, and I could have your head on a spike in the hands of a messenger headed to your father anytime I want. I would be within my rights; did you know that? According to Vildaheim laws, if any royal attempts to plot or scheme against another kingdom, it can and will be considered an immediate declaration of war. That law was enacted to protect your father's kingdom but gave him a loophole to send common folk off as spies and mercenaries. But here you and your brother are, caught in Jurot without stating your business was peaceful. You can call me a beast all you want, but as far as I am concerned, you've used all of the mercy I was prepared to allot you," Aribelle said.

  "You have two minutes, beast," Dru snapped, vacating his seat beside Thame.

  Aribelle nodded, though her stomach did an odd flip, as adrenaline flooded her veins. Two minutes was plenty of time to bite Thame, but it would have to be quick, and she would need to pray that he remained silent through the pain. She would not have the time to explain anything to him, to prepare him. Although he was unconscious, she had hoped to offer him the comfort of her voice, or some explanation to make herself feel better about what she was going to do.

  She waited until the tent flap closed before rushing to Thame's side, brushing his long locks out of his clammy face. She leaned down and brushed her lips against his, feeling a spark of hope ignite in her heart. Pushing his head to the side, Aribelle exposed his throat, watching his pulse throb slowly in his neck.

  "I'm so sorry, but this is the only chance I have to save you. Please don't hate me," Aribelle whispered, kissing down his neck.

  Her fangs descended, moisture pooling in her mouth as she breathed in his scent. She bit down on his neck, sinking her fangs into his flesh. Thame jerked beneath the hand she had laid on his chest, a low groan emanating from his throat. Retracting her fangs, Aribelle licked off the droplets of blood that beaded where she bit. To her amazement, the holes closed within seconds, leaving behind no evidence of what she had done.

  "Step away from him," Dru commanded by the tent flaps.

  Aribelle's head snapped in his direction, wondering if he had witnessed her biting Thame. She backed away from Thame slowly, cocking her head as she studied Druas, who did not look any angrier than usual. Deciding that he did not bear witness to her actions, Aribelle let out an even breath, masking the optimism she now felt about Thame's chances of surviving.

  "I will not go near him again, but I am staying, so make your peace with that," Aribelle said, sticking her nose up in the air.

  Dru ignored her as he stomped towards Thame, inspecting him for signs of abuse. Dru jumped back with a yelp, his hands trembling.

  "What is it?" Aribelle said with a smile that she couldn't quite hide.

  Dru must have noticed Thame was healing, and the miraculous sight spooked him, she thought excitedly.

  "He has a fever, hotter than I would have ever imagined someone could be," Dru grouched as if he would rather speak to anyone but her.

  "That cannot be," Aribelle said, her heart sinking.

  Did she do something wrong? She wondered. Should she have left her fangs in until he was completely healed? If so, she would have to find another way to get rid of Dru for a second time.

  "Well, it is," Dru said. "I am not so daft that I cannot tell his temperature."

  Aribelle raised a brow at Dru's back, not willing to argue with that because she really did think him that daft. Thinking fast, Aribelle said the first thing that came to her mind, a remedy Agatha used to do whenever Aribelle complained of feeling feverish.

  "Send Wren for some water, we will pat him down with cool cloths, and that will bring his temperature down," Aribelle instructed. "Have her grab me a drink and some dried meat while you're at it," She added, knowing he wouldn't do anything for her.

  Dru made it to the tent flaps before turning towards her and jabbing a finger in Thame's direction.

  "Do not harm him, or I will kill you, beast," Dru barked.

  Aribelle nodded, internally willing him just to go already. Dru walked out, and Aribelle rushed over to Thame as she heard Dru calling out for Wren. Aribelle touched the back of her hand to Thame's forehead, prepared for the heat that comes with high fevers, but he felt normal. Letting a relieved smile stretch across her face ,Aribelle ran her fingers over every inch of Thame's exposed skin, assuring herself that he was not in the throes of a fever.

  "That's normal," She whispered to Thame. "It's the wolf joining with your soul. You'll feel feverish and ill the first several shifts as well, but it will pass."

  Aribelle placed her lips on Thame's forehead, kissing him softly before returning to her spot in the far corner, content to watch him until Dru returned. Thame tossed and jerked, his expression turning agonized as his breath came out in pants. His previously sallow skin was regaining its bronze color, and his chest was no longer rattling like a caged beast.

  As she sat on the wooden bench at her small dining table, Aribelle ran through the possibilities of believable stories. She did not feel she could trust anyone save for Thame with the truth of how he was miraculously healed within days of nearly dying. Not knowing how long he would be bedridden as the change took hold was a hindrance to her plans because magic works instantaneously. She could say that he was so close to death that it took several trials to find the best magic and then a dozen or so healing sessions to fully heal him, but that would only work if Druas stayed out from underfoot long enough to get a healer here. The not-so-gentle-prince was not exactly the trusting type when it came to her like he was afraid she would eat Thame the moment Dru turned his back.

  "I'm telling you, Wren, he will be dead within the hour. Let us at least do what we can to make him comfortable," Dru was saying as he and Wren walked into the tent.

  Aribelle thought it curious that Dru spoke of his brother's death in such an apathetic manner, and that he spoke so casually with Wren. Her assistant would need to assert Dru's place in their relationship. Aribelle did not mind that the two were having sex, but Wren's place in the pack would be compromised should anyone feel the need to challenge the whelp over her chumminess with an intruder. The rest of the pack could see Wren's friendship as a sign that she would rather be friends with outsiders than them, as she had yet to mingle or make friends within the pack. As much as the whelp's disobedience and disdain for the wolves pissed Aribelle off, she truly did want to see all of her people happy.

  "Alpha," Wren said with a bow of her head as she approached.

  Wren sat a plate of dried meats and berries before Aribelle, as well as a jug of purple juice that smelled like ambrosia. Aribelle tried to smile at the whelp, but it came across as more a baring of teeth. With an internal sigh, Aribelle popped a piece of meat into her mouth.

  "Your hair looks lovely today, Wren," She said, cringing when she noticed the dirt and twigs snagged within the blonde tresses.

  Goddess, help her, she was making a fool out of herself all so she could try and keep things peaceful for Thame's sake. It would be a lot easier just to render Dru unconscious, seeing as he was always the one starting the dramatic showdowns.

  "Thank you, Alpha," Wren said. "You should try the juice. Squeezed it myself just hours ago and mixed it with water from the stream. It's still fresh and cold."

  Aribelle's eyebrows rose in surprise. Wren had called her 'Alpha' perhaps a dozen times in the last six months, and two of those times were just then. She gave a solid nod of respect to Dru, who was not paying attention, thinking he must have fucked that horrible attitude right out of Wren. Or maybe she gained a whole new personality when she was shagged properly.

  Grabbing the iron chalice off the table, Aribelle took a heady gulp of the juice, the taste of berries bursting on her tongue. She lifted her head to thank Wren when she noticed something peculiar.

  "Druas," Aribelle said suspiciously. "I thought you said that the arrows were stolen?"

  Which would have been a lie, considering Wren had the quiver strapped to her back, full of arrows, with the bow in h
er hand. Wren and Dru shared a dark look that had Aribelle tensing in her seat. There was something strange about the way they looked at each other; it was not a glance shared between lovers, but rather one that would be shared between conspirators, smirking about their devious plots.

  "Well, unfortunately, I have no choice but to kill you both now," Aribelle said as she downed the rest of her juice and slammed the chalice onto the table.

  Standing from her seat, Aribelle's head began to swim, the dizziness knocking her right back down on her ass. Her vision blurred as a warm, trickling feeling slithered across her skin.

  "I don't see that happening anytime soon, Aribelle," Dru said from across the room.

  Aribelle's heart skipped a beat, a fluttering of wings taking flight in her stomach. Her belly dipped as her flesh heated. Confusion warred with lust as Druas' words caressed her ears with seductive tones.

  "You have the voice of a god," She said huskily.

  Dru and Wren chuckled darkly, lifting her from her seat and laying her down on the ground. Aribelle's wolf growled loudly, but she was not certain why her counterpart would be so enraged as Dru's hands cradled her body for a moment longer. There was a voice in the back of her mind that screamed something was amiss, that she was in danger, but as thoughts of Dru serenading her with love songs swirled in her mind, Aribelle lost consciousness.

  *****

  Dru gazed down at the beast, his face flushed with triumph. Gods, how he hated the bitch who had his brother twisted up in knots. For so long, he had been forced to live in his brother's shadow, the spare heir to the throne, should Thame die an untimely death. Dru had waited years for the opportunity to prove himself to his father, to bring fame and fortune to the kingdom of Vildaheim. At last, he had such an opportunity, and there Thame was trying to snatch it all away from him.