Briar Rose and His Not-So-Charming Prince [A Tail Like No Other: Book Five] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove)

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Briar Rose and His Not-So-Charming Prince [A Tail Like No Other: Book Five] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) Page 6

by Scarlet Hyacinth


  I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised that the witch had such minions in the dream world. Still, it bothered me that she had managed to twist the symbol of Briar’s innocent and passionate perfection into something so obviously monstrous. The petals of the rose parted to reveal something akin to fangs. Its thorns pointed at me threateningly, and it walked on its roots, using them like an animal would legs.

  The peculiar monster waved a leaf, and thorns the size of spears rushed toward me. I leapt out of the way, and then lunged at the creature with my blade drawn. As much as I hated it, the time for patience and diplomacy was over. This was a beast with a clear intent to kill, and I couldn’t afford taking any chances with slaying it.

  For all its fierceness, the rose monster was quite slow. However, it was also terribly resilient. When I struck its stem with my blade, the force of my own blow sent me reeling back, but didn’t cause even the slightest dent in the green surface. All right, that wasn’t good.

  Thinking quickly, I looked around, trying to come up with a strategy that would help me against this foe. My gaze fell on the thorns the creature itself had thrown. They were so sharp they had embedded themselves in the ground and could have easily killed me if I hadn’t dodged. It might work as a weapon against the rose monster

  I didn’t have the time to try to pull one of them out, but perhaps the base of the thorns wasn’t as solid as the stem. Following that trail of thought, I lifted my blade again and chopped at the thorn closest to me. The creature released a strange gurgling sound, reaching down in an attempt to destroy me. I retreated again, moving out of its reach, then as the rose monster reoriented its attacks, dove in once more toward the thorn.

  The dance took far too long, but it couldn’t be helped. My chosen course of action had me practically chopping a tree with my sword. While my blade was sharp, it wasn’t built for that sort of thing. Nevertheless, my faithful weapon served me well, and the thorn at last fell on the ground at my feet.

  Sap flowed from the spot where it had been like blood out of a wound. It was a weak area I could exploit, but first, I needed to use my recently acquired weapon. Quickly sheathing my sword, I grabbed the huge thorn and sent a prayer toward the gods. With a roar, I threw the thing as hard as I could at the rose monster.

  The thorn was heavy, but my efforts paid off. The thorn struck the stem of the creature and pierced it with an almost sickening crack. As the monster released another of its screeches, I unsheathed my sword again and buried it in the first wound I’d caused.

  The creature staggered back but didn’t immediately fall. Its sharp thorns flew toward me, trying to pry me off before I could take it out. One of them passed me by an inch, coming so close that its edge hit my side. Pain burst through me, proving once more that this particular dream world was very real.

  Ignoring the feeling of my own blood trickling down my leg, I continued fighting the monster, until finally, the thing collapsed right on top of the castle gates, therefore creating the entrance I needed. I leapt on top of the rose monster, ready to deliver the final blow. And then, three soft words reached my ears.

  “Save my master,” the rose said. There was strangely humane remorse in that phrase, and I finally realized that this wasn’t just another of the witch’s minions.

  Before I could hit it again, the hulking shape of the huge rose disappeared, leaving behind a single small flower. I picked it up, somehow knowing that this had been the rose which had caused the curse in the first place. I could only hope that defeating it in the dream world had helped weaken the enchantment. I had no idea if I should replant it, squash it, or simply leave it there, but that simple phrase made me unable to abandon it.

  And so, holding onto the rose, I finally entered the palace of the dryads. I found myself in a quiet courtyard that seemed to hold every flower in the world, displayed in artful patterns that I guessed must have formed some sort of symbol. It was beautiful, but I didn’t stop to admire the view. Briar was waiting.

  I also noticed something else. So far, the only sign of life I’d seen in the kingdom had been the plants, but here, in the courtyard, there were people, all of them sleeping. It was unlikely that they would wake—after all, the curse was still in place—but I didn’t want to risk running into someone who decided they didn’t want an Arthurian savior, so I walked faster.

  I bypassed a group of sleeping guards and entered the building. Inside, I found many other people, also asleep. I wondered how it was that people could sleep while in a dream, and I asked Rosa this.

  “Don’t be an idiot,” Rosa told me. “It’s a curse, not normal slumber. It actually is a shutdown of their consciousness. They don’t have access to the dream world. Goddess, how is someone like you Briar’s mate?”

  I ignored his comment, my attention now drawn to the winding staircase just ahead. The highest room in the tallest tower. I might not know where that was, but it seemed clear that from the base of the tree-palace, I had to go up.

  The rose-bat confirmed this as it flew up the stairs. I ran after it, my mind fully focused on my task. I could practically feel that I was coming closer to Briar. And yet, I suspected this battle wasn’t over yet.

  My guess was confirmed a few minutes later, when the rose-bat stopped in front of a door engraved with the symbol of Briar’s dynasty. Well, it didn’t actually stop on its own. Rather, a bolt of magic struck it and the poor creature collapsed on the floor with a small gasping sound.

  I couldn’t worry about Rosa’s familiar—or whatever it had been—though, because I had to worry about myself. The witch blocked my access to the door of Briar’s tower, smirking at me.

  “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that,” she said with a thoughtful hum. “But I won’t let you reach the rose prince. You and that meddling guardian will learn the true meaning of my power.”

  And there she went again, with the same idiotic comments that made me want to roll my eyes. Perhaps I’d have done exactly that, but instead, I used the time she’d unwillingly given me to get a better grip on my blade and scan the witch’s stance. I had fought her before and lost, so I knew her power didn’t lie in hand-to-hand combat. However, if she touched me, she could plague me with one of her enchantments, and I needed to avoid that at all cost.

  I reminded myself that, unlike before, I’d actually be able to fight back. Magic was an unpredictable factor, but if the witch had been as confident in her strength as she pretended, she wouldn’t have bothered to throw all those obstacles in my path.

  It was very simple strategy, really. All the monsters and barriers had never been meant to stop me, or rather, hadn’t been expected to keep me away from Briar. The witch had merely intended to weaken me so that she could beat me with ease.

  Knowing that, I let my stance loosen a bit, pretending my fatigue was getting to me. I spat blood on the floor and gritted my teeth, like I was trying to control my pain. I needed to be careful not to overdo it, because the witch would never believe my act if I went too far.

  Because oddly enough, it was an act. The exhaustion I’d felt upon scaling the wall and the pain emanating from my wounds had disappeared, melting into pure determination, into the siren’s call of Briar’s presence, so close to me now. Nothing else mattered, except reaching him.

  The witch eyed me with shrewd eyes, but her arrogance was such that she couldn’t read me. She started murmuring something under her breath, an incantation of sorts. A ball of energy began to form in front of her. I waited for a few seconds then finally attacked. Lifting my blade, I rushed her, ready to slash my opponent’s flesh.

  With a sharp bark of laughter, the witch cast her spell, forcing me to dodge. Another spell struck my arm, and I hissed as I dropped my sword. The power of her enchantment was such that I lost my balance and fell back.

  She chuckled, turning slowly toward me as if amused. “So much for the strength of the great Arthurian warrior.”

  I hid a smile of my own. What the witch didn’t know was that I h
ad anticipated all of this. I had gambled on her arrogance and had won. Just as I hit the floor, I retrieved my dagger from my boot and threw it at her.

  My new attack took her completely by surprise, and my aim was true. The weapon hit her straight in the chest, where her heart would have been if she had one. It wasn’t a large weapon, but it did the job. She released a loud screech, glaring at me with such hatred that I was almost surprised I didn’t burst into flames on the spot.

  “You’ll regret that,” she said as she struggled to pull out the dagger. Apparently, she wouldn’t be taken out so easily.

  Since she was distracted—both with her useless threats and with the not so pleasant process of removing my weapon from her flesh—I saw my chance and found my sword on the floor. Without a second’s hesitation, I rushed toward her. At the last moment, she glanced up toward me, her eyes glittering with anger and disdain. She pulled the dagger out, and before I could hit her, blocked my path with a magical shield.

  For a few moments, the enchantment held, apparently immune to my physical strength. But then, I caught sight of the rose symbol on the door beyond the witch. I remembered Briar’s tears, the bitter guilt that had plagued him—and I knew I couldn’t allow this to continue.

  The sword passed through the witch’s shield, piercing her stomach. Her eyes widened almost comically. “You…You’ll pay…”

  Just like before, I didn’t bother to address the threat. Instead, I pulled the blade out, ready to dispose of her. Sadly, before I could do that, the witch’s body dissipated into thin air. I stared at the spot where she had vanished, half expecting her to reappear and attack me again. When it didn’t, I cursed and wondered what had happened to her in the real world.

  “She is weakened,” Rosa told me, his translucent figure appearing by my side for the first time since I’d ended up in this dream. “Quickly now. Go to Briar. Now is your chance to break the curse and defeat the witch for good.”

  I didn’t wait to be told twice. As regrettable as it was that the witch had escaped, I had achieved my goal and defeated her. I hadn’t actually come here for her, but for Briar.

  Sheathing my weapons, I opened the door and ran up the stairs that led to Briar’s quarters. I soon found that this truly was the highest room in the tallest tower. I was in great shape, but by the time I reached the end of the staircase, I was sweating like a pig and cursing the dryads for deciding to build, or rather, grow such a huge palace.

  At last, I opened the door to Briar’s quarters and stepped inside. A true warrior was taught never to abandon his sword, not even when in his own territory, let alone in a hostile one. But in spite of that knowledge, when I walked into Briar’s room, I dropped my weapon. My fingers simply went slack at the sight of my mate’s slumbering form. He was so beautiful and he looked so peaceful when in deep sleep that holding onto an object meant for violence seemed like an insult.

  Never taking my gaze off him, I began to walk forward. Even here, in his room, Briar’s bed was like a huge rose, the petals shielding him from sight, protecting his delicate form. When I finally reached the strange item of furniture and touched it, those petals parted, revealing the full extent of his body.

  I leaned over him, ready to kiss his sweet lips, when I suddenly realized Briar’s perfume was being pushed aside by a distinctively vile scent. With much dismay, I grasped that I was the source of the smell in question. I was covered in excrement, sand monster saliva, rose sap, and my own blood. Touching Briar when I was like this didn’t seem right. He was pure, a jewel meant to be treasured. I wanted to lavish him with all the luxuries in the world, not lunge at him while still covered in filth.

  But in spite of knowing that, I felt so drawn to him that I couldn’t help myself. One kiss, I told myself. One small kiss, and I would pull away. I just had to taste him, to make sure this plan of Rosa’s would actually work.

  Hoping and praying, I brushed my lips over Briar’s. As kisses went, it was pretty tame. In fact, it was more like a closemouthed lip-lock than anything else. It couldn’t be helped, because Briar was in no condition to respond. Or at least, he wasn’t at first. A few seconds into the kiss, Briar finally stirred beneath me. A small moan escaped him, and he began to kiss me back.

  Well, he did his best at it, at least. Rosa had been right in that Briar was inexperienced. He trembled underneath me, and he tentatively parted his lips. His shy tongue tried to meet mine, but it was obvious that he felt uncertain on what to do next.

  I didn’t mind. In fact, this was probably the best and most passionate kiss I’d ever shared with anyone. Briar tasted just like I had thought he would, the sweetness of his lips disguising a fiery passion that I’d caught glimpses of before. I looked forward to teaching him everything there was to know about the pleasures of the flesh, and I planned to start right now.

  Alas, I didn’t get the chance to fulfill my desire. Rosa manifested by my side and pulled us apart. “All right, that’s enough,” he exclaimed. “You need a bath. I won’t have you touching Briar with those filthy hands of yours. Go on—get.”

  Before I could even attempt to protest, Briar’s godfather ushered me in an adjoining bathing chamber which I hadn’t originally seen. Inside, a pool of water filled with rose petals awaited me. Next to it were several bottles which I guessed had to be oils and soaps of sorts.

  Stealing a yearning glance at the door, I sighed heavily. It seemed that I would have to wait a while until I could talk to Briar and touch him like I craved. Grumbling under my breath, I disrobed and stepped into the steaming water. Its scent reminded me of Briar, and my cock—already hard from the kiss Briar and I had shared—throbbed painfully between my legs.

  For now, I ignored it and focused on cleaning myself up. I wasn’t stupid. Rosa hadn’t sent me away just because of the filth covering my body. My mate needed a little time to process what had happened to him, and I would give him that. I could wait. Briar deserved it.

  Chapter Five:

  In Which There Is Never a Rose without a Prick

  It was terrible. For some reason, Rosa had decided it was a good idea to banish my mate into the bathroom. “Rosa! Why did in the world did you do that?” I whined. My brain swirled with desire, and the only thing I knew was that I wanted my mate to touch me again.

  My guardian sat down next to me on the bed, gripping my wrist in an iron-like vise and keeping me from fleeing after Leonard. “Breathe, child,” Rosa said. “You need to calm down.”

  “I’m very calm,” I told Rosa, the wheezing sound of my voice not sounding convincing even to my own ears. “I’ll be even calmer when Leonard comes back.”

  “Oh?” Rosa arched a brow made out of rose petals. “And what will you do then? Do you even know what is expected of you?”

  I froze, the meaning of Rosa’s words penetrating my daze of lust and need. He was right. I knew some of what happened between two mates, but because of the curse, I’d never gotten the chance to truly focus on it. I’d been told that my other half and I would share intercourse, and we would claim each other. After that, I would start to pollinate and a new seed would start growing inside me.

  But all of that was very vague and didn’t help me in the here and now. I was fairly certain that one of the people involved had to enter the other for actual intercourse to happen, but I had never seen it done, and it was so different with plants…My petals started fidgeting nervously in response to my acknowledging my own inadequacies. Rosa must have noticed this, not that it was very hard. “Don’t panic,” he soothed me. “That’s why I’m here, to help you through it. Besides that Arthurian might be a barbarian, but he isn’t a complete brute.”

  “Leonard isn’t a barbarian,” I argued softly. “He cares for me.”

  “Yes, he does,” Rosa agreed, surprising me. “He wouldn’t have fought like he did if he didn’t feel the bond.”

  I bit my lip, concern flowing through me. I didn’t know everything that had happened to Leonard in the dream world. Rosa had been
watching over him, but at one point, I’d been forced back into my body and my consciousness had faded away like it had when I’d first been cursed.

  The next thing I knew, I was waking up, Leonard’s lips on my own. “Is Leonard all right?” I asked Rosa, my previous concerns irrelevant when faced with the possibility of my mate being hurt.

  When Rosa didn’t immediately answer, I called out my mate’s name. “Leonard!”

  The door to the bathing room opened almost instantly. “What is it?” Leonard inquired, scanning the room with his piercing dark-green eyes. “Is the witch back?”

  I shook my head, trembling as I took in the sight of him. He had stepped right out of the bath, so I could finally see the full extent of his body. Truly, he was everything I’d ever wanted in a mate—all man from the tips of his blond hair to the soles of his feet. I wanted to lick the lines of his rippling abdomen, trace my fingers over his muscled legs, and most importantly, explore the magnificent cock that seemed to demand to be worshipped. He was only half-hard now, undoubtedly because he believed I was at risk in some way, but even so, his size was pretty impressive.

  I would have melted into a puddle of pollinating petals if not for the ugly wound marring Leonard’s side and the smaller puncture-like injuries I could see all over his body. Tears filled my eyes as I realized he’d acquired them during his journey through the dream world.

  Leonard rushed to my side and sat down on the bed, pulling me into his lap. “Hey, what’s the matter?” he whispered. “Why are you crying? Are you hurt?”

  I shook my head even as I buried my face in his chest and inhaled deeply. His naturally masculine scent had blended with my bath oils while he’d been cleaning up, and for some reason, I found that comforting. He was here, holding me close just like I’d wanted from the very first moment he had landed in the Dryad Kingdom.

  He petted my hair gently, shushing me, whispering sweet endearments in my ear. Finally, I began to calm down and looked up to face him. “I’m fine. You’re the one who got injured.”

 

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