Blossom and the Beast (The Alder Tales Book 1)

by RS McCoy

  She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her knees to her chest, hugging them tight. The young one, Valenta, scurried out the door, but Norsa remained.

  The woman’s frame fell beside her on the bed, and a moment later, a gentle palm rubbed easy circles along her back.

  “Leave me be,” Blossom said through gritted teeth.

  “What happened child?” Her voice was smooth as rabbit fur and her words were crisp with age.

  Blossom shook her head. She didn’t want to talk about it. It would only bring up memories she didn’t want to revisit. Those wounds were too fresh.

  “The Vice Syndicate can be a hard man to know. Give him time. He’s new to this as well.”

  Blossom glared at her. “Why does everyone keep telling me to get to know him? He’s awful. I don’t want to get to know him. What’s there to know?” Blossom was tempted to pull away and let her anger seethe, but Norsa’s even strokes on her back kept her in place.

  “Well, let’s see,” Norsa began with a chuckle. “When he was fourteen, Syndicate Perth named him a Pyro Vice Syndicate apprentice, the youngest in history. He studied under her guidance until her death three years ago. Now that he’s undergone transformation, he serves the new Syndicate, Reva Mora, though between you and me, I don’t think he likes her very much. And when the time is right, he’ll claim the Syndicate as his own. Only twenty, can you believe that?”

  “I don’t care.” Blossom knew she sounded like a child, but she wasn’t capable of even pretending to be interested in his history. He came to her home and took her from her family to lock her away in this glass tower. Nothing else mattered.

  “Ah, but you should. How many times do you think he’s made an offer for a bride?”

  “I don’t know.” She hadn’t even thought about it. Considering his wealth and position, he could have a young woman from any family he wanted. Though, she was the only one here now.

  A surge of fear shot through her. Had he killed each of his young wives? Kept them here until they suffocated in his captivity? Or did he murder them outright? Her mind spun with every horrible possibility.

  “You’re the only one,” Norsa said, stopping her downward mental spiral. “That has to count for something, don’t you think?” Norsa walked to the door and said, “Clean clothes in the top drawer. Let us know if you need anything. Good night, child.” Then she closed the door and left Blossom to her prison.

  Alone in the room, Blossom had the chance to actually look at her quarters. There was the large, soft bed she sat on, covered in fine green fabrics and lush brown pillows. Across the way, a low black lounging sofa, and several alder wood tables were scattered around. One of the walls was a huge glass window from floor to ceiling, but in the dark, she could see nothing but her reflection.

  A prison with a view. How quaint.

  Around the corner to the right, Blossom found an expansive washroom with a pair of sinks, a wide wooden tub, and a luxurious scarlet rug draped over the floor.

  Slowly she realized the room held no candles, no fire place. Instead, lights were mounted to the wall and shone bright like those she’d seen over Pyrona. She reached up a hand to touch it.

  Then someone knocked at the door.

  “Leave me alone,” she shouted, making no move toward it. She didn’t want to see him.

  “It’s Druma, Ms. Frane.”

  When she opened the door, Druma stood in the hall clutching a tray, but her eyes went straight to the claw marks across the top of his left hand. “What happened to you?”

  “A small skirmish. Nothing to worry about.” He offered her a pinched smile.

  “It was you, wasn’t it? You were the cougar. In that fight in the city.”

  He nodded and thrust the tray toward her. “The Vice Syndicate asked that you join him for dinner, but since he suspects you won’t, he offered you this.”

  Blossom took the tray and set it on the nearest table, if only to keep him from having to hold it in his injured hand. No longer needed, Druma nodded and left.

  Out of morbid curiosity, Blossom lifted the cover off the tray and found a plate of fresh fruit and berries, a few slices of buttered bread, and there on top, an alder blossom, fresh and pink with its pretty blue filaments.

  What was this? An attempt at flattery?

  She clamped the top back on the tray and flopped onto the bed. It was going to be a long rest of her life.

  “You deliberately disobeyed my instruction,” Kaide said through gritted teeth, trying to keep his cool—to keep the beast at bay. “What would prompt you to bring her food?”

  Druma stood with his head bowed and his feet together, the usual posture for servicemen, but Kaide could see the fear in him even still. He’d known what the price would be, and he’d done it anyway. Kaide had to know why.

  “She hasn’t eaten much, sir. Perhaps her mood will improve with a full stomach.”

  “That’s not your decision to make.”

  “Apologies, sir. But if this is to become a position where we starve young women, then I must request a transfer.”

  Kaide felt the animal within him rise up like a tsunami, looming in wait for the violent crash. He was already close—so close—to losing what little control he had, and Druma said those words to him? The mounting infuriation only made it harder to keep his human form.

  He waved Druma away before he lost the ability to do so.

  Deep down, he knew it wasn’t Druma who sparked his anger.

  Kaide circled back to the bottles of wine on the table behind his desk and poured himself a large glass. Tomorrow it would be back to work, back to the stresses of his position, the useless talking and cunning manipulation of countless political figures across the realm. This was supposed to be his night to relax.

  “What am I doing?” he asked without turning.

  “Druma wasn’t wrong to bring her food,” Olin said as he stepped out from the shadow. The low light cast his reflection across the window as he approached.

  “I know,” Kaide admitted. He took a large swig of wine and savored the sweet strawberry flavor and bitterness of alcohol before he swallowed.

  “Are you sure this was a good idea?” Olin asked in that same deep voice he’d used on Kaide when he was a boy.

  Kaide shook his head. He’d been so, so certain she was the right one. Then he saw her face a half-second before she shattered his pre-war wine glass. A pure, unbridled anger shown plainly across her features. She loathed him. She hated him.

  In less than two days, he’d made her hate him. He thought he’d done well—given her space, kept her safe, brought her to his home where she would want for nothing. But in those eyes, there was only hatred.

  Kaide felt like the glass shattered across the floor.

  “Perhaps it’s best to give her some time. You have a visit from the Vice Syndicate Iolla in three days, and various other matters that need your attention. This isn’t a good time for a distraction.”

  Kaide knew Olin was right. He was on the cusp of reaching his goals. He was so close he could taste them. After years of aligning the political arena to his precise plan, the last thing he needed was to lose sight of his final targets.

  But even that didn’t quiet his racing thoughts. He couldn’t unsee that look on her face.

  He’d known the disgust and hatred would come at some point, but he didn’t expect it so soon. She didn’t even know the truth about him yet. If she already wanted nothing to do with him, then this was over before it had even begun. Never had he lost so unequivocally.

  The youngest Vice Syndicate in history, outmatched by a girl from the Alderwood.

  Kaide reached for the narrow top drawer of his desk and sifted through until he found the unmarked file at the bottom.

  “Sir?” Olin’s single word was enough of a reminder.

  “I know what I said.” And when he’d said it, he’d meant it. Now, though, he was in need of an outing. A release was more than overdue.

  More than four
months since his last relapse. A personal record.

  In the illegal file, Kaide found his personal list of Pyrona’s worst citizens. Most were killers, having ended a life in a useless brawl or ego-fueled argument. Others harmed innocents. Even worse, the rapists.

  At the bottom of the list, Kaide read the name of a man who raped a Pyro girl only weeks before her transformation. The price for her hand fell so severely, her father cast the girl out. According to the latest reports, she was living somewhere in the mountains to the west.

  Kaide slammed the file closed and savored the first sensations of his transition. The bubbling in his gut would soon spread outward, filling him up and pushing his flesh to its limits. He threw back his head and took in a long, deep breath before he rushed for the door.

  Better to lose control outside.

  “I don’t think that’s—” Kaide heard Olin’s fading protests as he descended the stairs in three long strides before barreling out into the warm spring night. Bloodlust filled his mouth. His back arched with its unnatural growth. His flesh split and shredded as the muscles of his totem spread outward. Then, at last, his claws struck the ground.

  Kaide took off running toward the nearby trees for cover, racing in his totem form. He would get his fill of blood tonight. The thought alone made him swoon in anticipation.

  He would sink his teeth into worthy meat and savor the life he drained.

  Bright rays of morning sunshine streamed through the windowed wall. Tangled in a pile of sheets on the floor, Blossom lifted her arm to block the light. When her eyes adjusted, she looked out over her view for the first time.

  Around the manor, a wide open field of low grass was ringed by trees. The straight trunks of alders were mixed with twisted elms and branching peach trees, though it was hard to tell from the distance. It could have been the Alderwood if not for the patchwork of mountains looming over the forest.

  The nearest, a blunted rise, was capped with snow where it was visible between clouds. The one to the right of it dripped with orange syrup like sap from a tree. A billow of ash and smoke rose up and filled the sky to the east.

  A volcano.

  Blossom stared at the sight with a sense of awe, as if the volcano’s power could be transmitted if only she looked long enough. A new and interesting part of the world lay before her, but she was trapped behind a piece of glass. So close and yet still impossibly far away.

  While she intended to stay in the room and avoid the Vice Syndicate for the whole of her life, boredom got the better of her. Sitting still had never been her strength.

  And now that she’d seen the view from one angle, she was eager to see the others.

  She made her way to the forgotten tray of food still perched on the table by the door. Pushing aside the flower, she pocketed the fruit and berries before venturing into the hall. She breathed easier when she found it empty, though one of his service staff could be around any corner.

  Blossom traced her steps from the night before and soon found the front door. To quell her curiosity, she pulled at the door, and it opened on the first try. She half-considered leaving, but the mere thought of the Vice Syndicate dragging her back made her shut the door. If she were going to make a run for it, she certainly wouldn’t do it in the bright light of day.

  As she moved away from the door, she tilted her head around the curve of the building into the room she’d run from the night before. Somehow, she expected to see him still standing there, reciting his demands as he glowered at her, but she found the room was empty and dark instead. The floor had been swept clean and looked as if she’d never smashed a glass full of wine.

  Must be nice to have someone clean up your messes, she thought.

  Satisfied he wasn’t there, Blossom ventured into the room, and for the first time, she noticed that it was some sort of sitting room. There were only a few comfortable chairs and a long sofa, all in scarlet and black. Along the wall, a service cart held numerous bottles of wine and fancy glasses.

  A room for the Vice Syndicate to host his important guests.

  The windowed wall was dark, as if painted black, but as soon as she arrived in the center of the room, the black faded away. The transparent glass revealed even more grassy field and distant forest, though here it was cut through by a paved road leading to the front of the property.

  Blossom ventured on into the next room and found Norsa and Valenta hard at work in the enormous kitchen. Valenta chopped vegetables on a large stone-topped island in the center while Norsa fussed over a dozen pots on the stove, stirring one before adding something to another, then on to turn a third.

  “Ah, good morning, Blossom, dear. Did you sleep well?” Norsa asked, her voice almost a shout over the stove.

  “Well enough,” she admitted. Once she ditched the soft mattress for the alder wood floor, sleep had come much easier.

  “What’ll you have to eat?”

  “I’m fine, thank you. Just looking around.” Blossom said as she continued moving through the kitchen until Norsa stopped her.

  “Have a look wherever you like dear. That staircase there,” she said and pointed behind her, “That one goes down to the service quarters. You’re welcome to go but truth be told, there’s not much to see.” She wiped her apron against her brow as she worked. “Just don’t be going up to the third floor, child. That’ll be for him to show you.” She winked and let Blossom go, though she wasn’t at all sure what that was supposed to mean.

  Blossom didn’t have much interest in service quarters so she continued around the first floor. On the far side of the kitchen, Blossom found the rounded hallway that held her room. She’d already completed the loop of the first floor.

  She felt her prison were shrinking. A sitting room, a kitchen, and a row of bedrooms? Hopefully the second floor had better prospects.

  Blossom didn’t know what she expected to find when she climbed the stairs to the second floor, but she found herself standing in the entrance to an enormous office. Sitting at the only desk in the middle of the room, was the Vice Syndicate.

  He looked at her with the wide, terrified eyes of a deer. “Ms. Frane, I hadn’t expected you—” His shock was evident for a brief moment before he regained his usual composure.

  “You said I had to greet you each morning,” she replied, hoping to play it off as if she’d meant to run into him here.

  “Yes, I did say that, didn’t I?” He pushed from his chair and made to round the desk to greet her, but he hesitated. “I’m sorry, I have quite a bit of work to do. After traveling for the last week, I’m quite behind. I hope you’ll be available to join me for dinner.”

  Blossom wordlessly took a step back, and then another. Soon enough, she was on the stairs, descending back toward the first floor. The Vice Syndicate only watched her leave.

  She cursed under her breath. Trapped on the lowest floor with nothing to do. She could see all the surrounding trees—hundreds of trees she could climb—but she couldn’t leave.

  Then she realized there was one tree. She turned and eyed the single alder tree that occupied the central atrium of the manor. Alone, it grew tall and straight surrounded by the circular building.

  Blossom neared the window that separated her from the tree and searched for a way in. There, across the way, was a door. She jogged around the first floor until she found it in the kitchen. Ignoring the protests of Norsa, Blossom pulled open the door and released herself into the fresh air.

  Already she breathed easier as her anxiety faded. The small tightness in her chest began to loosen as she smelled the sweetness of alder wood mixed with the smoky scent of Pyrona.

  From within the atrium, Blossom could see nothing inside the manor. The windows were all filled with that same opaque black, but she didn’t mind. She wasn’t here for the windows.

  The atrium was too small to allow her much of a running start, but she got what little momentum she could. With the tips of her fingers and toes, she gripped the small grooves in the alder bar
k, careful to balance her weight so one arm wouldn’t tire before the other. Then, when she was sure she was secure, she reached up and began to climb.

  So far from home and still processing in the events of the last three days, Blossom climbed the alder tree as if nothing had changed. After days of being confined, she savored the warmth spreading through her muscles, and within minutes, found herself in the dense canopy over the top of the manor.

  With her feet balanced on the branches, she ascended, until her head popped out over the top. It was no remnant, but the view from the precipice was a welcome sight. Her heart thumped at the thrill of this new vantage.

  In the distance and along the eastern border, a line of mountains and volcanoes loomed over the grassy field. Closer to the manor stood the dense forest of intermixed species, and for the first time, she noticed the slope.

  They were on the side of a mountain. Blossom remembered the Vice Syndicate telling Hale about his home on the Huntari Mountain, but she hadn’t realized he meant he literally lived on a mountain. And based on the lack of a mountain peak to the south, she guessed they were pretty much at the top. Or maybe it was one of those blunted-off mountains. It was hard to tell without a higher view. She wished she’d paid better attention in the transport.

  Blossom remained nestled in the alder branches absorbing the new landscape until her stomach got the better of her. She climbed down to the lowest branches and found one wide enough to sit on. Then she pulled out her fruit and her mother’s book from her pockets and began to read, as if it were just another day in the Alderwood. If she ignored the walls of black glass, she could almost convince herself she was still at home.

  A few times, the black windows flashed clear, the sudden change catching her eye. Through the temporarily transparent glass, she would see Norsa cleaning a room, or Valenta carrying a basket down the corridor. At least three times she caught the Vice Syndicate standing in his office, still and stoic, but always with his eyes trained on her. Blossom refused to acknowledge any of them, instead casting her eyes right back to her book and continuing to read.