by Alyse Zaftig
She didn’t even widen her eyes. She just nodded as if it were perfectly normal for the master of the castle to need enormous portions. Maybe it was. Marceau was easily a foot taller than me, maybe a foot and a half taller. He was very muscular, too, as if he did hard labor. The muscles were incongruous with my idea of noble physiques. Roul and his friends were whip-thin with big stomachs. The only nobles who had bodies like that were avid swordsmen.
“Do you fence?”
My husband stared at me. “Fence?”
“Swords?”
“I used to, I suppose. My father thought that it was part of a prince’s education.”
“If you don’t fence, then why do you have such heavy muscles? And a flat stomach? Roul looks nothing like you.”
“Roul?”
“My brother. Stepbrother.”
“Ah, yes. Your father mentioned him, but I was more interested in his daughters.”
I felt like he had poured a bucket of cold water over me. Prince Marceau had been kind to me, but I had forgotten that I was essentially his captive. I was my father’s ransom. He’d joked about me trying to escape by climbing the garden wall after I had realized that I was fenced in by thorns, but I knew that if I actually tried to leave, it wouldn’t end well.
The same man I’d been so concerned about when his nose bled was the man who had imprisoned my sick father and made his condition worse. He’d put him at death’s door. How did that information match up with the lover who’d made my body soar?
Wizard
Marceau
“You’re very pale.” My wife had turned the color of salt.
“I feel a little sick.” She sat on the edge of the bed, which still had blood on it.
“We need to change the sheets.”
“I’m okay. I just need to lie down.”
I kissed her forehead. “Rest as much as you need to.” I’d worn her out, I knew. I went to my wardrobe and chose new clothes. I needed to get to the stables, get my horse, and travel to the wizard’s home, deep in the woods. He had a habit of being quite eccentric, speaking to people who weren’t there, talking to his cats as if they were people, and believing that all magic was just magic, not inherently bad or good. I had always suspected that he dabbled in some dark magic, but I didn’t worry about it too much. He’d been in our kingdom for a long while without any real trouble. Of course, there were the ultra-religious who tried to drive people like him out of town, but he lived in the woods for a reason.
I went to the stables, saddled my own horse, and bent to tell the stable master where I was going.
“Are you sure, Your Highness?” The servants only bothered with formality when they thought I was being an idiot. “The wizard is so…odd.”
“He’s my only chance. Personal matter.”
“I’ll let them know if anybody comes looking for you. Congratulations on your marriage, sir.”
“Thank you.”
I mounted my horse before going into the woods at a slow and steady pace. The way was tricky in some spots where I’d need to get off of my horse and lead him. No sense in wearing out my horse too early in the journey.
A few hours later, I came upon the clearing where the wizard lived. Things were strewn around on the ground, ranging from things that looked sinister and occult to cat toys. I knew that witches kept cats as familiars, but the wizard in our kingdom had too many cats to count. They didn’t like bears.
“Hello, Your Highness.”
I dismounted from my horse and bowed.
“What a fine day for a visit,” he said. I didn’t know if he was talking to me or not.
“I’ve come seeking your help.”
“Is that so?” His tone was flat and totally without inflection. “What is it?”
“I, uh, I used the potion. I’ve been using it ever since I was a child.”
“And there’s something wrong?”
“It tasted bitter when I drank it the last time. More bitter than usual. Smelled a little bad.”
“When did you make it?”
“Two months ago.”
“It shouldn’t have gone bad yet.” He stroked his beard. It was long and white, and sometimes I thought that it was fake since it hung down to his knees. “What else can you tell me?”
“I woke up today with a nosebleed.”
“Preposterous. Were-shifters can’t bleed from the nose. You must have fought somebody.”
“I didn’t. I woke up with a bloody nose.”
“Bloody hell.” The wizard squinted at me. “Come into the cottage.”
It was a very large cottage. For a villager, it would be a house. But the wizard insisted that it was a cottage, and nobody wanted to become a toad. Therefore, it was and would always remain a cottage. How he’d put together a house this far away from civilization without any apparent help was a mystery best left alone.
When I came inside, a very large tabby cat went straight for me, winding around my ankles while mewling. The cat wanted to be friendly.
“That’s never happened before,” I said. Cats and werebears did not mix. Both were vicious predators, though they had different prey most of the time.
“Sit here,” the wizard said. “Stick out your tongue.”
“My tongue?”
“Did I stutter?” the wizard snapped. “Tongue.”
I stuck my tongue out. The wizard had some sort of wand in his hand. He passed it over my tongue.
“Report.”
“Sorry?” I looked around. The wizard’s home was empty except for the two of us and the cats.
The wand began to glow from within, musical chiming coming from it.
“Is that so?” the wizard asked.
“Who are you talking to?” I looked around, but we were still alone.
“The wand, of course.” His tone made it clear that I was an idiot who was nearly blind. I shut up. In my kingdom, I wouldn’t do that for anyone else. But the wizard knew things that I didn’t and saw things that did not exist in my world. And he was my best hope.
He put the wand next to his ear, nodding as if he were having a conversation with it. The wizard stroked his wand gently, then he put it down.
“Your curse is ending.”
My mouth was open before I could control it. “What?”
“You’re going to lose your bear. You’ll be a normal human again.”
“What? How?”
“It began when you…well…let me ask.” He picked up the wand, whispered to it, then held it up to his ear again. “You got married.”
“Yes, I did, but what does that have to do with anything?” If I had had another option, I wouldn’t have come here.
“How much do you know about the curse? Your curse? You obviously know that it was a shapeshifting spell.”
“A witch came to our castle at night. She asked for a room, and my father refused her. I came downstairs, awoken by the noise. She saw me and decided to curse me.”
“You realize that you’ve left out most of the story?”
“I beg your pardon.”
“That witch was your mother.”
I staggered a little. “What?”
“She wanted to take you home with her. She intended for you to be raised as a prince, but she saw that your father was too strict with you. A bear, if you will. She meant to curse your father. It would be broken when he truly loved again. He had a politically motivated alliance with the neighboring kingdom, where your stepmother the queen was from.”
“Then how did I end up as a werebear? Why would she do it to her own child?”
“She cast the spell, but you came into the door right when she sent it to your father. She and your father came to me. She was weeping. She made it so that it was difficult to reverse without true love. You married your true love?”
“I married my mate. I didn’t meet her at first, but my bear accepted her as soon as he smelled her.”
It was hard to read the expression on his face. He looked like he h
ad sat on a pinecone.
“I don’t know how to tell you this.”
“What is it?”
“You’re going to lose your bear.”
“So, I’ll be just human, then?”
“Yes…but there’s something that I’ve heard about shifters and their mates.”
“Which is?”
“If one dies, so does the other.”
“But my bear isn’t dying…”
The wizard looked at me. I swallowed hard.
“Is he?”
“Already. Have you felt tired…weaker?”
I thought back to the time since I’d married my mate. “I slept in the middle of the day.”
“Not surprising. Bears are active at night and twilight. Anything else?” The tone of his voice had an edge of hardness, like he was done with my idiocy.
“The potion smelled different this time around. Tasted a little more bitter than usual.”
The wizard nodded. “Your body is already changing back to human. You could withstand the force of the potion before. Now, the potency of it is making your body revolt. That’s why you had a nose bleed when you’ve never had one before. There’ll be a transition while your body shifts back to fully human, but it shouldn’t kill. Well, you at least.”
“What do you mean?”
He took a deep breath. “I’m not good at this kind of thing. Your bear is dying. Your mate will, too.”
Loving
Cateline
It was long past sunset when Marceau came to bed. The feeling of his body circling mine woke me up. I was far too warm.
“Marceau?”
He turned me and kissed my mouth desperately, his tongue plunging inside without much warning. My own hands went to his back.
There was something wild in the way that he was kissing me. He was pushing my nightgown up, revealing my thighs and touching my center. His hands rubbed the apex of my thighs until my entire back broke out with sweat. He broke the kiss and slid downward.
“What are you doing?”
His mouth answered it by latching onto my lower lips. I yelped as I felt the fire that he was building with his tongue. I felt like there was a bonfire burning between my legs and spilling into the pit of my stomach. The room didn’t have enough air. My body arched as I came violently. My mind was still exploding with white fire as I felt him slide inside of me, pushing my folds apart almost to the point of pain.
“Mine,” he said, and there was something in his voice—grief, sorrow, and despair.
“Marceau? What’s wrong?”
He just thrust into me a little harder, making me gasp. His loving was right on the line between intense pleasure and pain. I didn’t know if I was in pain or feeling blazing ecstasy.
I heard a growl in his throat as he filled me with warmth. He kept rocking on top of my body, even when nothing was coming out.
“Marceau? My dear, you are scaring me.”
He kept himself inside of my body as his arms came around me and he turned us on our sides. I put my leg around him, looped so that my foot was on the back of his thigh.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to lose you.”
“I’ll stay with you. I promise. We’re married.” I kissed his cheek. “You have nothing to worry about.”
I felt him hesitate before just nuzzling my neck, the sore spot where he’d bitten me savagely before. He licked it gently.
“I love you.”
I didn’t know if I should say the words, but his body was wrapped around mine. He’d just loved me with all the passion he had. I knew, in the bottom of my heart, that despite the blackmail, he really did love me.
“I have to tell you something.”
“Oh?”
“I smelled you before I even met you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your father…his belongings smelled like you. I knew that you were mine. He described his daughters and his stepson, and I knew that the only one who would consent to come here was you.”
“You could’ve smelled one of my sisters…and then you would’ve ended up with the wrong bride.”
“When he talked about you, my bear told me that you were definitely my mate. It was doubly certain when I saw you in person. Didn’t you know how I felt when I rushed you to the altar? I would have sent your father and his attendants home if you’d been the wrong one.”
I was stunned by the revelation that he’d been in love with me even when all he had was a scent and my father’s description of me.
“I love you, too.” I couldn’t offer him anything else. “I’m glad that we’re married.”
He kissed me again. This time, it was gentle and loving. Then I could feel him getting hard again inside of me, slowly sending butterfly shivers through me. He rolled so that I was on top of him, and I braced my hands on his shoulders and upper pectorals as I rocked against his body. We had all the time in the world.
Unspoken
Marceau
The two of us came together after our endless loving. Her eyes were closed. I looked at the love of my life, my mate, and I knew that she would die because I’d been selfish enough to steal her from her family and make her my mate through threatening her father. My selfishness was going to cost her her life. I could’ve left her alone, let her live a long life with her family. Instead, here she was, a prisoner in my castle, beloved though she was. She would die soon, and it was because her love had broken my curse. Her life in exchange for my humanity.
I wanted to rage at the gods who had decided that this was how it worked. I mentally cursed the witch who’d given birth to me and tried to take out her rage on my father, the king. Even though I was the heir, I hadn’t taken his crown when he died. I had the sacred rose, the one that had founded our nation. One of my ancestors had been granted the right to rule, with an ever-living rose that bloomed in the coldest mountain winter. I had the blood. But somehow, I never got around to scheduling the coronation. It was bad enough to be a werebear prince, but being a cursed king would have been even worse. I still ran the kingdom with my advisors, but my council handled most of the daily decisions. Yes, we were a monarchy, but I was only one man not particularly interested in governing. I spent most of my time alone. At least until I had married.
Soon, I’d be alone again. Now that I had tasted just a little of what I could have, I was terrified of losing it now and forever.
She’d chosen to marry me, but she hadn’t chosen to die. I stroked her sweat-slicked back and thought. If only I could trade my life for hers.
I wanted to fight against what was coming, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t know how to tell her what the wizard had said, because that would make it real. I hoped that he was wrong and nothing bad would happen, but he knew far more about the curse than I had. I had a terrible feeling that he was right and marrying my wife had been my salvation and her death sentence.
I had to get out of here. I had to find a way to save her just like she had saved me. I slid out of our bed, washed myself, and got dressed. I didn’t want to go back to the wizard. I needed to find another way to save her. I went downstairs to eat before I went on a futile quest to save my princess.
Stew
Marceau
I could smell meat and hoped that it was already finished. When I came into the kitchen, I could see that the cook, Madame Renaud, was bustling around.
“Could I get some of whatever’s in the pot?”
“Won’t be done for another half hour, but I can give you some bread.”
I sat down. “I’ll take some bread.”
She cut off the end of a loaf and handed it to me. “What are you doing down here by yourself? Shouldn’t you be with your wife? Have you worn her out?”
I blushed hard, but my servants had taught me the facts of life early on. There had been carrots involved.
“Why are you down here?” The cook had already turned away.
“I have to figure out how to save m
y wife.”
“From whom?”
I shut my eyes. “From me.”
“Care to explain that, Your Highness?”
“I’m…changing.”
“Ah.”
“She’s tied to the curse. She broke it but…”
“But what?”
“She’ll die as a result.”
I could hear the hard thump of the cleaver as Madame Renaud set down her knife.
“What did you say? That sweet little girl is going to die?”
I nodded and cleared my throat. It felt like it had closed up or there was something in there. “She’s tied to my bear, and he’s…almost gone.”
“Lord above,” she breathed. “You’ve accidentally killed her by mating her.”
“Yes.” I put down the bread. “I’m not hungry anymore.”
“Well, what are you going to do about it?”
I shrugged. “I don’t think that there is much that I can do about it. My bear…he’s already mostly gone. I don’t eat as much. I don’t feel the urge to growl or shift. It’s inevitable.”
“It’s not over until it’s over,” the cook said, picking up her knife again and efficiently cutting the chicken once more. “And I will see what I can do.”
“What do you mean?”
“My gran…well, she hasn’t ever liked that our prince was cursed. And of course you haven’t been crowned, although your father is gone and you’ve been running the kingdom.”
“You know why.”
“Yes, and that’s why I haven’t called my gran before now. But if she’ll die without help, that sweet girl deserves some time.”
“What will you do?”
“Leave the kitchen to the lazy maids and hope that they haven’t burned everything by the time that I come back.”
She took off her apron while I looked on.
“Fire anybody who doesn’t do their job today. I’ll be back if my gran knows what to do. If she doesn’t, someone else will.”
“Take me with you.”