I couldn’t.
I had already seen that someone else’s love was not always enough, and I would rather be cold to my own son than subject him to the flames of rage and doubt and frustration and insecurity that burned without reason, that struck without remorse. For the rage that once burned from a dearth of love was now fueled by an abundance of it.
Maybe Yarrow and Daimyon were right, and I never truly wanted to be rid of it, that rush, that power, that lack of doubt and vulnerability, no matter how much I hated what it turned me into. Maybe. But, were I to lose him, I knew there would be no coming back.
Till today, I don’t know if it was the right decision, but it had to be made.
It wasn’t easy either.
Perhaps that is why I was compelled to write down my story, to correct the mistakes and misunderstandings polluting the faery tale that was my life with Kiara. Because, for the most part, our life together was good. But even on those days when it felt the sun would never set, when it seemed as if laughter would be the only music we would ever know, the beast was always there, just enough to inject its inky blackness and tint the bright colors of our life with a bloody red.
As such, I leave this behind in the prayer that my son will one day read it, that he will know and understand the kind of man his father was, and how he revered and relied upon the woman he was married to. I’m sure he wondered at least once about how his father so graceful and so sure could’ve suddenly ripped up his nails, scratched up his face from a hunt, or training a dog, or any other excuse we came up with over the years. With this, I pray he will understand the nature of our relationship with each other, how I could cling to her with all my love, yet show so little to him. I hope he will not hate me for what I’ve done, for what I had to do to make sure the beast wouldn’t drive me from this world altogether.
Maybe Lyla was right that long ago night, maybe I did trap Kiara through her feeling of obligation to me, using her love for me against her because I could never find enough to show to myself.
It may have been that, but it may have been more as well.
For each day Kiara stayed, her warmth melted the ice in my veins. Each day she loved and accepted me, she gave me courage to face down the demon one more time. Each day she chose me, she reminded me of the fight worth having.
And each day she did, I kept the beast close, because the more she gave, the more I feared for what might be stolen from me again.
This is the truth of my faery tale. A tale old as time itself, about a man struggling each and every day just to be a little more human.
Praying, one day, to finally be enough.
The faery tales continue in
HEART OF A HUNTER
Available Spring 2020
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HEART OF A HUNTER
Sneak Peek
Ever After
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Once upon a time, I was naïve enough to think I would happily live out my life as nothing more than a Queen’s Huntsman. Some kings set round tables, others design cabinets or chambers to assist their rule; the queens of Calladium keep an exclusive cadre of highly trained Huntsmen. There is no greater service to the realm, no greater sacrifice a man can make than to commit his life to Her Majesty. That was my father’s dream for me. I heard it in his voice every time he called my name and saw it in the decisions he made in my upbringing. In looking toward the future, that was the only image to ever fill my vision, and there was never cause or hint to think it would be otherwise.
One: I loved the outdoors, the noise, the rush, the intricacy of nature, the whisper of nimble paws in dirt, the flutter of hidden wings amid canopies of leaves.
Two: I loved the training, the thrill, the pain, the challenge, and especially the promise of enhanced abilities I would gain for pledging my life to the service.
Three: I loved my kingdom; always have, always will. Nothing can dislodge Calladium from my heart, ever. I will not reject her because of those who once ruled her, those who mucked my father’s vision for my bright future, nor will I abandon her after she forcibly wrenched my life out of my hands and replaced it with one I never asked for.
Four: I only ever wanted to be like my father, only ever wanted to dedicate my life to my queen and serve alongside him as the most elite of her men. And I did until the betrayals, both hers and mine.
For once I met the young princess, my entire life, with all that I’d given for it, with all that I’d built for it, was thrown into disarray. One look, one plea, and I thoroughly smashed to bits the only life I’d ever known and wanted. It may have been a moment of weakness. It may have been a moment of strength. Some days I’m still not sure what stayed my hand and threw my ambitions away. All I know for certain is that I cast away the life I was intended to lead so that hers would not be forfeit.
Because, odd as it may seem for a Queen’s Huntsman—a dangerous man possessing a singular focus for fulfilling his queen’s will—a heart, of all ungovernable and unrefined things, beats at the center of my story.
While it may seem obvious, considering the queen’s unsettling focus on one particular heart, this is of a different kind.
The heart that betrayed me, the heart that saved me, was my own, a troubling thought because it should have been quieted for good the day I joined the queen’s service, the day when the only heart that was supposed to beat in my chest was Calladium’s.
I couldn’t have become a Huntsman had it been otherwise.
I couldn’t have achieved so much at so young an age if it was. I was destined to serve my queen as her Huntsman, not her husband.
But I let my heart get in the way and it overtook my life completely.
None of this was ever supposed to happen.
Acknowledgments
With gratitude…
…To Caroline, for saying yes to this story and castle, even though it was a real fixer upper.
…To Miryam, for guiding me through its twisting passages and pointing out just how grand and dark it could be.
…To my family and friends for never abandoning me in an isolated castle, and for keeping my writing lair bright and homey.
…To you, the reader, for daring to venture with me to a troubled beast’s haunted refuge.
THANK YOU FOR READING
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About the Author
E.L. Tenenbaum is fairly certain a bookstore is really the happiest place on earth. In addition to being an author, her love for stories in different shapes and sizes has led to a degree in journalism, a stint as a script reader, and a few runs as writer/director for community musical theater. When she's not reading, or writing, she enjoys speaking at middle/high schools as a visiting author.
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For more information about previous/current/upcoming work follow her on social media or visit :
www.ELTenenbaum.com
Also by E. L. Tenenbaum
With Fire & Ice Young Adult Books
End of Ever After Novels
End of Ever After
Lies of Golden Straw
Beautiful to Me
Human Again
Heart of a Hunter (2020)
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Novels
The Sapphire Legend, Part I
The Sapphire Legend, Part II
Silhouettes
Human Again Page 27