by Laura Kenyon
Belle let out a deep sigh, introduced Gray to Penny, and explained that they’d just finished dinner when her stomach erupted in pain. It felt like she was hosting a fireworks display in utero, only the fireworks were orbs of bursting glass.
“Your stomach?” Penny’s voice was hollow. “Is the baby okay?”
Belle’s chest rose and her lips parted, but no sound came out. Rapunzel watched as Gray cupped his hand over hers and squeezed, but Belle didn’t even glance his way. Nor did she appear to squeeze back.
“Belle?” Penny repeated. “How’s the baby?”
At this, Gray pushed himself up from his chair and crossed to the other side of the room. He kept his back to them, facing the window, but his reflection made it clear he wasn’t looking outside.
“What’s going on?” Rapunzel stepped forward.
“The baby’s healthy,” Belle said, though the words didn’t match up with her tone. “Just … maybe a little too healthy.”
“Too healthy?” Penny let out an insecure laugh. “What does that mean?”
Summoned by either the universe or karma or the tortured weight of Belle’s eyes, Dr. Frolick floated up between them and explained—in medical terms Rapunzel couldn’t possibly understand—what this meant. Penny, whose lawyer training must have made some of this comprehensible, stepped backwards and clutched her chest around the words “fetal acromegaly.”
“Basically,” he concluded. “We’ve got a twenty-two-week fetus who’s measuring at thirty-three. And behaving like it too.”
Rapunzel clutched Ethan’s arm. “What do you mean behaving like it?”
“I mean all the baby’s measurements and Belle’s symptoms show she’s preparing for the home stretch. It’s a medical mystery. Now, I know we missed a couple weeks between check-ups, but I saw nothing unusual before. It’s like someone just switched a lever.” He sighed, then looked around and seemed startled by the sudden dreary atmosphere. “But rest assured. That little heart’s pumping like crazy and he’s kicking up a storm. Worst case scenario, he just wants to join the party early, that’s all.”
“He?” Penny’s eyes flew wide.
“Oopsie!” Dr. Frolick’s stubby fingers flew up to cover his face, but anyone could tell he was smiling. Way to redirect the gloom.
Suddenly preoccupied with a slew of merry—albeit hesitant—congratulations, no one saw the next visitor slip into the room until it was too late. Until she waddled up to Belle’s bed and said, without even attempting to be discreet, “I told you the curse would come back if you didn’t listen!”
In a flash, Belle and Penny looked at each other, nodded, and turned to shoo the men from the room.
“Girl talk!” they proclaimed as Penny escorted Dr. Frolick and Rapunzel shoved Gray into the hallway. She’d had already told Ethan everything, of course, but she couldn’t possibly let him stay. He probably wasn’t supposed to know.
“Geez, Ruby!” she screamed the second they were alone. “Can’t you keep your insanity under wraps? You can’t just come in here talking about returning curses in front of everyone!”
She was all ready for a battle, and there was no better opponent than Ruby Welles. With everything that had happened over the past month, she could think of nothing more therapeutic than hashing it out with this bullish, egotistical, judgmental diva of a fairy. They’d done it before at the inn’s grand opening. But … why wasn’t she hollering back now? Why was she just standing there, guarding Belle’s bed like a sentry? A filthy sentry too—with subway hair, a raw, red nose, and none of her usual I-just-materialized-from-my-boudoir polish.
Then it occurred to her: Maybe Perrin Hildebrand had been right about Cindy and Aaron using a cloaking curse on their vacation. Maybe Ruby had given up her powers so they could frolic through Ellada without paparazzi stalking them everywhere. She’d have to ask Grace about that, too.
“I noticed that man was here again,” she heard Ruby say to Belle. Her voice was unusually soft—and slightly eerie.
It took Belle a few seconds to answer. “You mean Gray? Of course. He drove me here.”
“Because you were with him when this happened.” She panned the bed, as if to clarify what “this” she was talking about. “Weren’t you?”
Belle licked her lips and smashed them together. “Umm, yes. We were having dinner.”
Rapunzel felt a tiny spark of pride. Her plan to get Belle out there again had worked! She’d finally fallen for a man who adored her—and wasn’t a monster.
“Don’t lie to me, Belle,” Ruby pressed. “I warned you. You let him in, didn’t you? You broke your vows to Donner, didn’t you?”
Penny let out a tiny gasp from the corner. “Oh, Belle. Did you?” All eyes turned to her. Rapunzel was thoroughly confused. “Didn’t you get my message?”
“About the loophole?” Belle nodded. “Yes. That’s why we kissed.”
Penny gasped. The room went silent. Then she let out a squeak of a question. “Did you get my other message?”
If Rapunzel thought Belle had looked pale earlier, she was sadly mistaken. Now, ships could have navigated by her glow.
“The one about Letitia?”
Penny shook her head. “No. The one that said the loophole depended on you not straying from your marriage vows too.”
“But I didn’t stray! All we did was kiss!”
“Exactly. You kissed. And if you were Rapunzel, maybe that wouldn’t mean anything.”
“Hey!” Rapunzel stomped and crossed her arms. “I’m not a floozy anymore. I’m in a relationship!”
Penny shook her head. “I just mean that Belle wouldn’t kiss someone, especially now, unless she really couldn’t control it. Unless her heart was ready to rip apart if she didn’t. Unless there was love there, too.”
Rapunzel unleashed a tiny pop of triumph. She hadn’t just found Belle a rebound guy; she’d found her love! But why did everyone look so damn glum? “Sorry,” she said, shifting her weight, “but I still don’t see the problem.”
“Pun, the loophole I found doesn’t define adultery the way most of us do. It defines it as love, as any genuine straying of the heart. Of emotions.”
“Really?” Rapunzel crossed her arms. This was getting ridiculous. “And how in the world does it determine that?”
Penny shrugged. “Usually it doesn’t … unless the contract was magically bound. And unfortunately…”
Belle pushed herself up in the bed. “Mine was.”
“Yes. But I don’t know by whom. Ruby, did you—”
“Heavens no!”
“It was Hazel.” The words slipped off Belle’s lips so softly, all Rapunzel heard was the lingering hiss of the “z.” But she knew what she’d said. She knew Donner’s mother was a pureblood fairy. Belle had let her in on that huge secret back in May.
“So this is how it happens,” Ruby said, more to herself than anyone. “This contract. It’s how the curses come back.”
On reflex, Rapunzel ordered her to shut up, to leave Belle alone, to drop all this magic nonsense. But she did it all in her head. On the outside, the only sounds were Ruby’s voice, Belle’s labored breathing, and the occasional vroom of an air filter.
“Hold on a sec,” she finally said, unable to believe magic still had a place in their world. Ruby glared back at her, no doubt discounting every word before it even left Rapunzel’s lips. “I understand the whole magical pre-nup thing. So fine. That loophole won’t work. Donner has a paper laying claim to everything. And if that’s true, it’s awful. But what does it have to do with him turning into a monster again? I mean, he might be a little more emotional than usual, but I haven’t seen any tusks on his face or fur springing up on his hands. This isn’t a curse. Belle’s not responsible for destroying the world. This is just Donner being an asshole.”
The groan that followed could only be described as wretched. And it came from the unlikeliest of places.
“The baby,” Ruby said. Her words lingered in the air, playing ove
r and over again until she had the strength to continue. She pulled on her sleeves, shedding glitter all over the tile floor. “I heard what Dr. Frolick said about his growth rate. It’s unheard of. Monstrous. I told you the curses might have to be broken differently this time, but I never, ever thought … I didn’t think about how they’d develop to begin with, but it makes sense. That’s Donner’s son you’re carrying.”
Rapunzel scoffed. “It’s Belle’s son—”
“Oh, shut up, Rapunzel! I’m not trying to debate with you. Of course it’s Belle’s son too. But my point is that the same blood that runs through Donner’s veins runs through that child’s. Maybe the curse hasn’t fully manifested yet, and maybe it will show more on the inside this time than with fur. But that has to be what’s going on. The curse has spread to the baby, and if you haven’t noticed the signs in Donner yet, you will.” She took Belle’s hand—a rare sign of affection from the true love guru. “You may notice your own temper changing a bit, too.” She looked at Belle’s stomach. “You are sharing the same everything, after all.”
“So what can I do?” Belle asked. “I mean … is it hopeless? Is there any way to reverse it or is the damage already done?”
Rapunzel’s heart twisted as she heard the confliction in Belle’s voice. She wasn’t sure what she wanted the answer to be. Sometimes it was better not to have a choice.
“I can ask Dr. Frolick to run some tests,” the fairy said, “but I can’t imagine what else it would be.” She gripped the foot rail at the end of Belle’s bed and stared straight ahead. “I think it’s time you stopped fooling yourself and faced what’s really going on here. It’s time you talked to your husband.”
Chapter Eighteen
DAWN
Dawn waited until Hunter was gone before she slid open the bottom drawer of her dresser, dug through bits of lingerie she hadn’t worn in years, and carefully uprooted a green box camouflaged in linen. Checking once more to make sure the coast was clear, she shuffled over to her side of the bed and plopped cross-legged on the carpet.
She hadn’t touched the contents for days—not since Hunter had gone from ghost to shadow, always stopping in with a kiss or a flower or to ask her thoughts on some aspect of the merger.
So far, the promise that she’d be seeing “Liam Devereaux” all the time hadn’t exactly panned out. She’d seen him, yes—a silhouette driving through the castle gates, a dark head around a table of twenty, a flick of a smile marching down the hallway. But it wasn’t the same. Sure, she could clap eyes on him—but they were never alone. She could talk to him—but they had to watch every word. She could even feel his hands on her—but in none of the places that burned for it.
Thanks to her husband’s epiphany, she’d spent the last five nights trapped inside the castle … slumped in front of the television … with his head grinding into her shoulder. She appreciated what he was trying to do, but she’d just gotten Davin back. He’d just come streaming back into her world after being dead to it for eleven years. She’d just remembered what it felt like to have her feet planted on the ground while everything else defied gravity. And besides, she spent most of Hunter’s “together hours” listening to him snore.
“I’m not leaving you again,” he’d say, over and over each night, with a long yawn in between. He’d be a bouncy ball of drowsiness, clutching his caffeine like a weapon and refusing to go to bed. But he wasn’t doing her any favors—and that wasn’t all because of Davin. Even more than his embrace, she wanted the night sky. She wanted the brisk air. She did not want three a.m. infomercials and espresso.
Right now, Hunter was at a “business lunch” in Carpale, which most certainly meant Davin would be glued to his side. So while she still couldn’t be with her soul mate, she could finally spend a few hours with his memory—just like she’d done for the past decade.
Stroking the box in her lap, she gently pulled back the lid. Right on top rested the onyx rose he’d given her that first night in the woods. She’d hidden all the others in the garden, but needed this one nearby. Lined against the back were love letters she’d written as a teenager and stored for 311 years. Below them sat her diary, chronicling their journey from childhood playmates to so much more. And scattered throughout the crevices were countless trinkets from her former life, including the half-slab of turquoise whose match Davin shared.
He was hers and she his. Their love for each other was true and deep. It had survived centuries, even if they’d only felt them as years. He’d been the first person to hold her heart, and as far as she could imagine, he would be the last. But unless she was prepared to leave her children, having him in her life now was nothing sort of torture. She was cornered. If Hunter knew what he was doing, he’d played his hand well. If he didn’t, well …
Three knocks sounded at the door. Dawn jumped, flower in hand, and called out to wait. The box crashed to the floor, scattering her secrets like leaves.
“Be right there!” she shouted. “Day, if that’s you, just give Mommy two minutes, okay?”
A muffled voice came through the wood. Dawn froze—one hand on her back, another clutching a pile of sketches that had no right seeing the light of day.
“Davin?” The word slipped past her lips before she realized how stupid it was. Thankfully, her voice was too weak to travel more than a few feet. She cleared her throat and spoke up. “Who’s there?”
The man on the other side waited a few beats to answer. When he spoke again, his voice was soft and unmistakable. “Your Majesty, it’s Liam Devereaux. I can come back if this is a bad time.”
“No! Be right there!” Dawn rushed to the mirror to make sure everything was in order, shoved the box back beneath her unmentionables, and was about to yank the door open when she stopped. Deep breath, Dawn, she told herself. He might not be alone.
“Mr. Devereaux,” she sang as the door clicked open. She was struggling to keep an emotional distance, but her voice fooled no one. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Davin gave a sweeping glance over the living area and raised an eyebrow. “Your Majesty.” Dawn cringed at the title and turned away. If this was going to be their new relationship, they were doomed. “Is this a bad time?”
“If you’re looking for my husband, he’s not in at the moment,” she said, turning away and pretending to tidy things up. She needed to draw him inside. “He’s in Carpale meeting with Angus K—”
Her wrist buckled in his fist as she twirled back, her body crushing into his.
“Thank goodness,” he said, ringing her waist. Their lips slammed together. Liquid hot desire flooded through her body, melting every last bit of self-control. The floor fell away as her heart pounded down, keeping them suspended in some otherworldly plane in which nothing mattered but this.
Then it stopped. Davin pulled back, cupped both sides of her face so that her hair was covering her ears, and beamed. “God, I missed you.”
She could actually feel his eyes boring into her—plunging past her skin and poking into her soul. She wanted so much more. She stared at his lips, plump and red and shimmering right in front of her. Right now, in her castle, he was right in front of her.
She murmured some agreement and then tumbled forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. She exhaled all her desires with one long sigh and dragged him into her bedroom.
“Hey,” he said when she freed his lips for a few, brief seconds. “Dawn. This. Is your. Bedroom.”
“Mmmhmm.”
“It’s too. Dangerous.”
She kept kissing. He was trying to be reasonable. But she was done with reason. At least for the next … hour.
“Dawn —”
His protests became softer as she nibbled around his ear. Then she caught his lips between her teeth and pushed him to the bed.
“Ouch! Dawn!”
She halted just long enough to blink (her duty to make sure he hadn’t been injured), and then slid on top of him. “Dawn, we can’t do this here. Dawn …” His voice was
weakening. “You don’t want to …”
She gripped his hair and arched her back, pressing her body slowly over every inch of his. It was like teasing the powder keg with a blowtorch.
“Oh, I definitely want to,” she replied, feeling his restraint breaking. With every groan, she could practically hear the battle of wills raging within him. Then she traced her finger around his belly button and slipped her hand over his giant belt buckle and—
He scrambled back to his feet, looking wild and tousled, as if he’d just escaped from a riot. “Dawn! What has gotten into you?”
She tossed her hand behind her head with a “humph.” His eyes were huge, his hair gelled in all the wrong directions. “I’m showing my affection. Five nights’ worth. What’s wrong with that?”
“You’re not thinking clearly. This isn’t you.”
“You started it,” she muttered, tracing circles in the rumpled bed sheets. As uncharacteristic as she knew she was being, she couldn’t help but feel a slight sting of rejection. What man in his right mind turns down the woman he loves when she wants to rip his clothes off?
“It’s just too risky right now,” Davin said, tucking his shirt back in and swiping at his lower lip, which was bleeding. He turned to fix his hair in her mirror. The wild woman who’d just possessed her fell back to earth.
“What do you mean right now?” she repeated. “Weren’t you begging me to run away with you the other night?”
“That was before this merger.” He caught her grimace in the mirror and spun around. “Look, my company needs this,” he said, putting hands on both of her shoulders. “Once it goes through, we can have sex in the throne room for all I care. But I can’t just throw it away.”
“Yeah,” Dawn said, her voice suddenly bitter. He sounded like her husband. “But I can just throw away my children.”