by MJ Haag
Now, he was surly and seemed to no longer care if I stayed at the estate or chose to flee. He had ordered me to take my day to visit my family.
“You can’t order me to do that,” I said. “I choose the day I visit.”
For a moment, he paused his pacing to face me. An angry spark lit his eyes. When he resumed his pace, I set my fork down and quickly rose from my chair, ready to run if there seemed a need.
“You bore me, and I want time alone,” he said with impatience and anger.
“Sir,” I said, trying for a calm, soft voice. “It has only been a few days. Think of your freedom.”
“I’m tired of thinking of it,” he roared at me with such passion that his breath fluttered my hair.
“Let’s go for a walk outside,” I said, trying a different approach.
He spun toward me and took a step with each word he spoke.
“I do not want to walk outside. I want to fuck.” He stood nose to nose with me, his breath fanning my face.
“Precisely why we need to calm you,” I said, sensing my dangerous position.
He studied me for a long moment, then his tongue darted out to lap at my neck. I squeaked in surprise. He growled in response and stood on two legs, pulling me close. I only reached the bottom of his sternum when he stood, and his fur pressed into my face. I felt the length of his penis between my breasts.
He arched into me. I would have fallen backward if not for his arms holding me steady.
“Stop,” I ordered him, trying to pull away. My movement only seemed to excite his thrusting. “You’re hurting me.” His root was bruising my ribs, and I felt a stab of pity for the wood nymph who had endured him. He was too large.
When he didn’t listen, I stomped on first one paw, then the other. He roared but pulled away from me, dropping to all fours.
“There will be no fornicating,” I yelled at him.
We glared at each other for a moment, then his temper erupted. He lashed out and flipped the table over, sending the dishes flying. This time, I covered my face to prevent injury. When he finished his fit and stood there panting, I retreated.
“I think I will visit my family,” I said as I darted past him and out the door.
“Men aren’t the only ones to suffer pent energies,” he yelled at me as I ran.
I didn’t know what he meant by that, but didn’t slow to ponder it.
By the time I reached the gate, which swung open for me, I was out of breath and had a stitch in my side. The beast roared in the distance again. He still hadn’t regained control of the estate, and it seemed to frustrate him as much as his pent energies.
I sprinted through the trees until I came to the gravel road and slowed to a hitched walk. Perhaps we were going about this wrong. He didn’t respond well to self-denial. Perhaps I should have started with something smaller, like using the word “no” more often.
As I walked, I became aware of the sound of a wagon approaching from behind and turned to see Henick again.
I waved as he pulled up beside me.
“Going to the Water?” I asked.
Henick greeted me with a smile.
“I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon.” He jumped from the seat. “Your face is healed,” he said in surprise and reached out to run a finger along my jaw.
“Yes, I’m very fortunate it didn’t scar.”
His touch left a slight tingle, and I blushed. Yet, the beast’s parting comment rang in my ears. Why didn’t I suffer from pent energies? Aryana had also hinted that I should feel my heart flutter or some such nonsense. Was I defective?
“Henick, why did you think I didn’t notice you?”
He smiled again and lowered his hand, holding it out to me instead. I wrapped my sweat-dampened fingers around his warm, dry ones as I accepted his assistance and climbed up to the seat.
“Because you never lingered,” he said easily, moving around the team to get to his side of the bench. “You never stopped to watch us like we stopped to watch you.”
“Watch me?” I echoed, thinking of Tennen’s words the night he’d waited for me in the dark. Was this what he’d meant? He’d been angry because I’d never noticed him?
Henick laughed and shook his head at me.
“Everyone stops to watch you when you walk through the village, Benella.”
That made me feel a bit uncomfortable.
“Is there something wrong with me?” He looked at me with worry. “Not that everyone watches me,” I clarified quickly, “but that I don’t watch back.”
He smiled again, a small, soft smile.
“I don’t think so. I think you’re waiting for the right moment.”
I frowned, and he laughed.
“You think before you feel,” he said.
As I considered his words, I knew he was right.
We rode the rest of the distance in silence, and I asked him to drop me off by the mill so I could walk the rest of the way. When he slowed the team, I turned to kiss his cheek again. However, he turned at the same time and our lips met. A tingle of shock ran through me, and I pulled back in surprise.
Henick chuckled at my expression.
“Have you ever been kissed?” he asked.
“I have now,” I mumbled.
“I’m honored to be the first,” he said. He made no move to claim another one. I felt sure if it were the beast beside me instead of Henick, I would be fighting for my freedom.
Beside us, a crow cawed from a post bordering the mill. I stared at it as I licked my lips.
“Thank you, Henick,” I said quietly, jumping to the ground before he could move to help me.
“Perhaps I’ll see you on the road again,” he said in farewell and encouraged the team forward.
I watched him disappear down the lane and, lost in thought, started toward the market district. A familiar laugh drew me from my reverie as I passed a baker’s stall.
Bryn stood with the baker’s son in quiet discussion, leaning toward him and touching his arm lightly. He looked similar to Tennen. The young man’s eyes repeatedly dipped to Bryn’s cleavage, and his blush deepened each time.
Bryn spied me and said a quick, shy farewell to the man before walking my way. I waited for her, glad she wore a smile for a change. She looked much prettier for it.
“He’s the one,” she whispered, hooking her arm through mine. We walked toward home.
“What one?” I asked.
“The one who will offer for me. Edmund Rouflyn. His father runs the most successful bakery in the Water. It’s just the two of them.”
“I’m so happy for you, Bryn.” I hugged her side. “Is he excited for the baby?”
She dug her fingers into my arm.
“Quiet,” she hissed.
I frowned at her, not understanding her change in mood at first. Then, it dawned on me.
“You haven’t told him?”
“He looks a lot like Tennen. He will never know it’s not his because we’ve already been together,” she whispered to me as she smiled and nodded to someone else in the market. “And he’s much better than Tennen, too.” She glanced at me from the corner of her eye. “You wouldn’t know anything about that yet, would you,” she said with a sigh.
Not knowing how to respond to that, I asked about Blye.
“She’s doing well enough. Her dresses are selling, but slowly. Father’s still trying to marry her off. She’s getting offers but isn’t in a position where she needs to settle like me.”
Bryn was in a chatty mood and didn’t give me any opportunity to excuse myself until it was well past ten. I knew the sisters were already taking clients, so I spent a long, boring day with my sister, who repeatedly begged me to bring something of value to trade the next time I visited.
When she began to prepare dinner, she politely told me there wasn’t enough for four. I excused myself to meet Father on his way home.
I told him of Bryn’s hope of the baker’s son, and he nodded, sharing my concerns.
He was disappointed he’d missed the opportunity to visit with me but was glad I’d spent time with Bryn. I left him with a kiss on his cheek and began the walk back to the estate.
* * * *
When I returned, the kitchen was quiet and still destroyed. I skirted the wreckage and cautiously wandered the halls, speculating on the mood in which I would find the beast. Near the study, I heard an odd clicking noise. I stilled in the hallway, listening intently. It sounded like a tap of something against the glass.
Peering around the door, I watched in amazement as the beast threw open a window to let the crow in. The crow sat on the sill and cawed several times, clacking his beak in between caws. The beast watched him in silence, his fur slowly standing on end.
Beyond the crow, the sight of the wood nymph distracted me from the pair. Solid, she remained bent at the waist, her hair-like branches trailing the ground. As I watched, the spring green leaves from her hair fluttered to the earth in slow solidarity. The bark of her torso looked thin and curled in some places as if peeling away. The trunk of one leg glistened wetly. She looked broken.
The crow took flight, startling a noise from me as the beast rounded on me.
“You kissed him?” he roared.
The wood nymph trembled outside.
“You are mine,” he growled, stalking toward me.
I stepped forward, meeting him without fear.
“Kiss me as you did him.”
“No,” I shouted, angry. He needed to be told no regardless of our agreement. “I’ll end up broken or worse. Look at her!” I gestured at the wood nymph through the window. “If she were human, she would be ripped and bleeding. You are a beast. You don’t stop and think how your actions might affect others. You have no regard for anyone but yourself and your own satisfaction.”
He was no longer listening to me but stood before the window, staring at the nymph.
“Human,” he said, before spinning from the window and racing from the room on all fours.
I glanced out the window in confusion. More leaves fell from the nymph’s hair, and I wondered how many times he’d taken her.
The beast turned the corner at a run. When he reached her solidified form, he began speaking in earnest whispers. I couldn’t hear the words, but the nymph came to life and collapsed to the ground. The beast scooped her into his arms and ran out of sight.
I shook my head. He needed to think with something other than his root.
I didn’t see him again for three days. All the while, a storm lashed at the manor.
* * * *
When the storm finally cleared, I grabbed the bag from the servant’s quarters, dressed in my trousers and shirt, and strode out into the tranquil, dripping wet world. The sun made a valiant effort to break through the thick clouds above, but I knew it wouldn’t succeed. It was magic that had made the storm, and only magic would clear it.
I left through the front gate with no intention of going very far. It wasn’t my day to visit my family. I wanted to walk the wall as I used to and see if there was anything I could gather for Bryn. Since the beast wasn’t there to ask, I decided to try it without his permission.
Turning west, so I would visit the enchanted patch of ground last, I started my long walk. A caw from above didn’t surprise me, and I looked up to see the crow hop from branch to branch to keep up with me.
“I thought we were friends. How could you tell him I kissed Henick when you saw exactly what happened? It was an accident, and nothing came of it.” I scowled at the bird as it cawed again. “I suppose you’re going to fly off now and tell him I left. This, too, is innocent. Just a walk around the wall out of boredom. But go ahead, tattle.” I waved it away, but it stuck to me doggedly. So, I ignored it.
The wall offered me a bunch of primrose on the north side and cabbage at the patch of raw earth. Happy with my findings, I rounded the wall toward the gate. The crow cawed loudly in warning, and I saw the beast standing just within the gates.
“Where have you been?” he demanded.
“Ask Mr. Crow,” I said, slipping through the gates to walk past him.
The crow cawed once and flew away. The beast followed me back to the manor and continued to follow me for the rest of the day. I didn’t speak again.
* * * *
When I woke in the morning, the gossamer dresses were back. I glared at them then went to yank open my door. The beast waited without his mist. I stood before him, dressed in his shirt.
“No.” I said the single word with finality.
“Yes,” he returned calmly. “Go put on one of the dresses. I will try again.”
“I refuse,” I said, crossing my arms. “The problem with your plan is that you’re too used to getting your way. You need to learn how to contain yourself when someone refuses you. Until you can, I will dress as I please, not as you please.”
He growled at me, an angry light filling his eyes. Then he huffed out a breath and rubbed a paw over his face.
“You are correct. I need to learn control,” he said as a haunted look came to his eyes. “Dress as you please.”
He turned to stalk away, but I stopped him.
“Were you so horrible as a man?” I asked.
“You know?” he asked, sounding strained.
“I guessed, but now I know.”
He turned and walked away.
When I opened the wardrobe, it offered something of every style. The sheer gowns were there as were the plain ones that would cover me. But I also spotted trousers and shirts. I smiled and dressed as I pleased, knowing the beast’s control of the magic had returned.
* * * *
I found him much later, pacing outdoors near the place the wood nymphs had favored. He didn’t seem to hear my approach, and I paused to study him.
Weeks ago, I would have considered his back and forth movement a prowl. Now, I saw his frustration in the bend of his ears, his guilt in the droop of his tail, and his hopelessness in the weary set of his great shoulders. How could I not feel pity for such a creature?
“How is she?” I asked.
He stopped his pacing and turned toward me.
“Healing.” Regret laced that single word.
“If I continue to help you, I need your word that Rose alone will be the recipient of your attentions.”
His gaze dropped to the ground beside him. Tiny leaves dotted the area. Her hair.
“You have my word.”
The words barely reached my ears, but it was enough. I cleared my throat and set my resolve. I would help him.
“Can I still do as I please?” I asked.
He snorted in response.
“Given your refusal to listen to any command I make, I would say yes.”
“Perfect. I’ll return before dinner,” I spun away with the hope that he’d wonder what I intended.
I didn’t walk very far, my bag gently tapping against my hip, when I heard him follow. There were a few things we’d misunderstood when trying abstinence to help his chances with the enchantress. His willpower and his boredom. He had too much of one and not enough of the other.
Now, I planned to coax him from his shadows of observance into the light of participation. It most likely wouldn’t work, and he would roar and growl and leave in a storm, but the more we tried, the more I learned about him. I felt certain I’d eventually learn enough to truly help him.
Marching north, I ambled through fallow fields and quiet forests until I came to the wall. Unlacing my boots, I tossed them to the ground and began to climb one of the trees that stretched over the stacked stones.
“You’re going to fall. Get down,” he called to me as I climbed out of his reach.
Laughing, I kept climbing up and up until I reached the thinner branches of the canopy. I looked to the south, and far in the distance, I saw a bit of roofline. To the northwest, the moving waters of the river twinkled in the sunlight. I looked down at the beast.
“Are you able to leave these walls?”
“Yes,” he said suspiciously, “Why?”
I crossed my legs around the branch and started scooting forward toward the empty space that separated me from my destination. I loosened my legs and dangled from the branch to squat on top of the wall.
“Then come on.”
He looked up at me with concern.
I slipped over the wall and out of his sight. Slowly, I worked my way down the wall, one foot and handhold at a time. The beast sailed over the wall, his back feet clipping it with a thunk, before I reached the ground.
“Impressive,” I said, looking up at the top of the wall that towered above my head. “You can clear it in one jump?”
“Yes, when necessary,” he said, sniffing the air. “Why are we outside the estate? It isn’t safe.”
I scoffed at his concern. He was an enchanted beast. What had he to fear? I briefly thought of the stories of hunters and pillagers who’d tried to come for him in the past then quickly started walking away from the wall.
“You’ll see why. It’s a bit further. Come on.”
We walked for another hour before the sound of the river reached my ears. My bare feet were starting to hurt, and I regretted not bringing the boots in the bag. But, I’d worried they would cause me to lose my balance on the tree.
Finding a quiet inlet, I stripped two branches for poles, attached the string and hooks I’d discovered in the bag, and handed one to the beast. I sat on a rock at the river’s edge and dangled my feet into the cool water. The beast stood beside me, holding the pole uncertainly for a moment, then he joined me.
We sat in companionable silence for several hours while the fish ate our worms and laughed at our efforts. With the sun overhead, I pulled my hook from the water and opened my bag, hungry for the bread and cheese I’d taken from the kitchen.
Reaching to offer the beast half of the food, I watched him study the water. His eyes darted over the surface, following the shadows of the fish underneath.
“This is pointless,” he growled.
I smiled at his frustration. “It’s how most people eat every day,” I said, handing him the food. “Haven’t you ever had to work for your food?”
He scowled at me, but he accepted what I offered.