I clicked on the light, and a small orb lit the path behind Beast. “I bet you knew firsthand.”
“That I did. We sure got into some fine messes.” He gave a reminiscing chuckle. “She’d run at us with her wooden spoon, spitting like a wet hornet.”
“Sounds like you had a partner in crime?” I carefully stepped around a large burrow, avoiding a twisted ankle.
The rustle of grass filled the suddenly quiet air around us. Did I say something wrong?
“We better pick up the pace if we’re going to make it.” His voice was sociable but distant—like his light-heartedness had slipped into the muddy ground. It was the same stiffness I experienced at dinner last night when asking about his family. Was it a sibling? A cousin? I wanted to know, ask questions until I unraveled the complex being in front of me. But he was finally starting to open up. If I pushed too hard, he might stop sharing completely.
Keeping my questions to myself, I followed Beast through the woods, finding the flashlight washed out the beauty around me. I chanced an experiment and turned it off, hoping the moonlight flittering in through the canopy of pines would be enough.
Beast halted, allowing my eyes time to adjust. The moonlight slithered through the branches dotting the undergrowth in a mystical light. The breeze shifted the plants in a lulling wave, as if caressing them. I half expected to see fairies dancing in the spotlight, wings fluttering with glowing specks of dust, but that might be pushing the realm of reality a little too far. Then again, I was standing next to a werewolf.
“Are there other mystical creatures?” I asked.
He readjusted his pack and threw a wicked grin my way. “Am I not enough for you?” He winked, and my cheeks flushed from the insinuation in his voice. “Or would an added elf satisfy you better?”
My mind flashed with images of me in Orlando Bloom’s arms as he played Legolas. I instantly felt lightheaded and yes…swoony. My body flushed and Beast’s chiseled chest was too close for me to be reacting that way. Uncomfortable, I shifted my weight. This so wasn’t going the way I’d planned. Beast’s eyes twinkled with amusement, giving me the kindling needed to light my indignation and burn the feathers tickling my stomach.
“Hey, it’s a perfectly legitimate question.” I crossed my arms. “Werewolves exist, why not vampires, fairies, or…” I refused to say elves, “trolls.”
His lips corked in an I-gotcha smirk. “You read too much.” He waved his hand in dismissal and started walking.
“Says the werewolf.” I glared at him, my hands now on my hips. I was riled up for a fight.
Beast glanced over his shoulder. “Come on, slow poke. We don’t want to be late.”
I ground my teeth. “So what, is there like a flower that only blooms at midnight or something?” I scoffed. “Oh, wait that’s too magical for you, isn’t it?”
He laughed and shook his head, refusing to take the bait, and continued up the path.
I stomped after him, the bottom of my shoe imprinting in the patch of snow covering the trail.
The more we hiked the deeper the snow became. I was starting to wondering if I should’ve brought snowshoes and my winter coat. Hopefully, he had a blanket in that pack, because I was sure to freeze when we stopped hiking.
Hours passed and the moon was now high in the sky. Did he intend to give me a walking tour of the whole Teton park? Not that I’d know if we had entered it or not. Or were we still on his land?
“Are we getting close?” My chest and legs burned.
“Just up ahead.” He pointed up the hill where the trees thinned.
Stepping into a small snow-covered meadow pressed against a rock wall, I sucked in lungfuls of air. My hands on my head helped ease my aching chest. I swear we’d climbed vertical for three miles. I bent into a lunge to stretch my overworked muscles and was sure I looked like a yoga diehard greeting the moon in my warrior pose. But I didn’t care, it felt rejuvenating.
Beast dropped his pack on a large plateaued rock, level with the ground and the only dry spot in sight. He then strode over to the rock wall. It was then that I noticed a slender looking woodshed.
I pulled out of my stretch with a groan. “Please, don’t tell me you hiked me up here to admire an outhouse.”
His laughter bounced off the rocks, and my heart tingled at the carefree sound. I could feel his joy coming through the bond. And in that moment the rest of his intense brooding mask crumbled away.
“Why don’t you get over here and check it out yourself.” His broad smile lit his whole face.
“And spoil the surprise?” I repeated his earlier quip and grinned, coyly, enjoying our banter. “Besides, I’m management. Now, hop to it.” I shooed him, delicately with my hand.
A wicked gleam flashed in his eyes, and then he was a blur, running at inhuman speed. I gasped as his shoulder hit my gut, carrying me backward with his momentum. In the next second, my back was pressed against the shed with his arms on either side of my face. Our eyes locked, and I no longer saw his deformed face. His honey eyes swirled with silver and something much more primitive.
“Sorry, management, but I’m not very good at following orders.” His warm breath mingled with mine and the scent of deep woods filled my senses. Waves of heated power rolled off him.
My nerves fired in warning as my heart pounded with a mixture of emotions. His power was overwhelming, terrifying, yet under it all there was a current of desire.
His? Mine? His lips were so close I found it hard to breath.
“Oh?” I squeaked, aching to have him close the gap.
Beast froze, sucked in a quick breath, and pushed away. His hands clenched, his eyes apologetic. “Sorry, my wolf is playful tonight. I didn’t mean to scare you. Maybe…I should take you back.”
I could see his brooding mask start to piece back together, and my mind screamed, No. He looked so contrite, so beaten, that determination to make him smile again took over, and the fear that rationally should’ve held me back vanished.
“Listen here buddy,” I closed the distance and poked him in the chest. He stiffened. “I didn’t just climb this stink’n mountain for nothing. I’m going to see this surprise you promised.”
“All right, all right, you win.” He put his hands up in mock surrender with a glimmer of laughter returning to his eyes, but I could tell the fully open playful side of him was locked up again. A twinge of loss pinched my heart.
I paused. Why did I keep doing this? He took everything from me, and yet I felt connected to him, like kindred spirits that had their lives ripped from them. I looked at him with renewed curiosity. And it wasn’t just the bond that made me feel that way. At least, I didn’t think so. What was his story?
He turned and opened the shed, hefting out hard plastic cases. “Here,” he handed me the tiniest of the three. “Carefully, put this over by my pack.”
The shed was just a shed after all, no hole in the ground with a plastic toilet. Suddenly, I wished it did. Maybe it was the shoulder to the gut, but I needed to disappear for a moment.
I quickly deposited the case by this pack. “I’m going to sneak off for a moment.”
“Stay where I can hear you easily.” He scanned the tree line. For what, I didn’t know, but the fact that he found it necessary made me nervous.
“Why? Do you hear another wolf or something?” Now that was a disturbing thought, but I wasn’t planning on going far anyway. I unconsciously inched closer to him.
“No, you’ll be fine. Just keep close, I need to be able to hear you.” His eyes were focused on the hinge lock on the first case.
I blanched.
“You want to listen to me pee?” It was out of my mouth before I could clamp my lips shut.
Beast’s head jerked up, his eyes wide, momentarily stunned. I choked on my spit, my hand slapped over my mouth as I turned crimson. Then, his features shifted and a deep laugh reverberated through the air. My cheeks flamed with heat, and I wanted to crawl into the shadows.
�
��No, I don’t want to hear you relieve yourself.” His lips curled in unmasked humor. “If I can hear you…pee, as you so eloquently put it, I’ll be able to hear dangers around you.”
I was sure my cheeks were fluorescent red, now. “Well, glad that’s all cleared up. I’m just going to go bury myself now.”
His laughing eyes were too much to bear. I swiveled on my heels and disappeared into the forest that shrouded my humiliation.
I finished my business and came out of the pines. My gaze rested on Beast’s back as he fiddled with something on a tri-pod—the legs stuck out on each side of him. A beat of hopeful anticipation zapped my chest and an image of a dusty black case at home came to mind. I walked to his side just as he screwed on the eye piece to a beautiful telescope.
I couldn’t speak. My hand reverently stroked the large white tube. My little telescope was majorly out classed, but I’d never get rid of it. The memories of being a whole, happy family were connected to that little thing. Uncle Stan made sure we knew the major constellations and especially the North Star. We’d all looked like wrapped up potatoes as we sat on the truck bed outside of the city lights, gazing up at the sky and taking turns looking at whatever planet was nearest.
A warm finger trailed up my cheek, wiping away a tear. “You’re crying?” Beast’s voice was soft.
“Huh?” I wiped at my cheeks and sure enough my hands came back wet. “I guess I am.” I looked up to see Beast’s brows creased in worry.
“Did I do something wrong?” His voice was husky.
“No, it’s just—this was my Uncle Stan’s thing. He loved the stars.” I looked back at the telescope. “I’m so glad you did this for me. I haven’t used a telescope since he died.” My eyes flicked back to him. “It’s still too hard for Aunt Lily. But we never should have stopped.”
His eyes warmed, and I saw understanding there. He pulled me to sit on the rock laden with thick sleeping bags and blankets. A cool wind shuffled through my clothing and chilled my sweat dampened skin. I shivered. Without a word, Beast wrapped a goose down sleeping bag around my shoulders, and started digging through his pack.
He pulled out a large thermos and two plastic mugs. “Hold this.”
Dutifully, I wrapped my stiff fingers around the cup as he poured hot chocolate into it. I inhaled the sugary scent and brought it to my lips. The liquid streamed into my blood, coating it in delicious warmth, replacing the chill of the night and the past.
“You thought of everything,” I said.
He gave me a quick smile before chugging his. I eyed the pack, realizing I was hungry too. The hike must’ve burned my dinner calories away.
“Did you bring any food?” My gaze shifted from the pack to him.
A mischievous glint lit his eyes. “Well, there wasn’t a lot of room left after packing Band-Aids, antiseptic wipes, ankle braces. You know, the essential first-aid, just in case the hike posed too difficult for you.”
“Shut up.” I shoved him playfully. “I didn’t fall once.” I wasn’t counting the time I’d slipped on the snow and banged my knee on a boulder. He laughed and leaned away. “Now, hand over the granola bars. I know you have some.” I didn’t, but I was sure he brought some kind of food.
He put a hand over his heart feigning hurt. “Tayla, you wound me. Never would I feed you such bird food.”
My brow rose. “Oh, and I suppose you hiked a three course meal up here.”
“Something even better.”
My interest piqued, and I leaned closer to see what he was digging out of the pack now.
He brought out two plastic containers and pulled the lids off. Inside each were three crêpes rolled up and drizzled in a strawberry puree. Then he produced an icing bag that was filled with whipped topping. He squeezed three swirly dots on each crêpe. I watched—stunned. Was he for real?
He handed me a container and a plastic fork. “Your dessert, Ma’am.”
I grinned and took it happily. “Thanks. I have to say, I’m thoroughly impressed.”
“I enjoy cooking.” He shrugged as if to play it off as nothing special, and took a bite of his. But it was special—to me.
I savored every bite, the last one most of all. “Wow, that was…amazing. Are you sure you don’t have a gourmet chef in hiding or something?”
He took my empty container with a small chuckle. “No. But I’m glad you liked it.”
He repacked the items and tilted his head up. I did the same, looking for clues as to what astronomical event might take place tonight. I quickly noted three bright stars. The brightest I knew was Jupiter, but I couldn’t remember if it was Saturn or Venus right next to it. But the flashing star across from those two planets had to be Mars.
The night so was crisp and clear that the stars sparkled brightly. “How can something so far away cause such feelings of peace and beauty?”
“Stars are special to me, too.” He gave me a quick, side-long glance. “My brother…” He paused and looked back at the heavens. “He loved to point out constellations and make up his own. We’d spend almost every summer night camped out behind our house mapping out the sky.”
“You have a brother?” I asked, quietly and carefully, as if I was trespassing on a fragile moment I didn’t want to break. Beast didn’t answer right away, so to stop myself from asking more, I found Ursa Major, or if you add a few more stars, what’s called the Big Dipper. From there, it was easy to find Ursa Minor, Draco, Hercules, Lyra, and Cygnus. I mentally ticked them off, wading through the silence.
“I don’t usually mention my family.” He finally broke the silent spell, his voice tight with pain.
“Your brother’s special to you.” I didn’t really need to point it out, I could hear it in his voice, but I didn’t know what else to say. I knew how painful memories could be, and I wasn’t sure what happened to his brother, or if he just missed him and because being a werewolf kept them apart.
Then, Beast whispered, “When he was twelve, he contracted polio, and it crippled him.” I turned to see Beast’s Adam’s apple bob. “Stargazing was one of the few things left he could do without much aid.”
My hand slipped into his. “I’m sorry.”
He squeezed my hand and held on to it. My hand buzzed happily in his and a trickle of unease slithered through me. Had I just crossed another invisible line? Beast chuckled through the sadness clinging to him.
“We had good times, though. He never let the disease cripple his spirit. He got into as much trouble as I did.”
“A younger brother?” I assumed from the tenderness in his voice. He turned to look at me, our faces close.
“No.” A brief haunted look flashed in his eyes. He let go of my hand and laid back. “See Vega there?” He pointed to the bright star that used to be the North Star.
Subject change, moment over.
I regretted asking my question. Maybe he would have said more. But Beast had opened up again, and I found the glimpse tantalizing. There was a whole other layer there, and it intrigued me.
“Yes,” I said, lying back and placing my hands on my stomach. I was hyperaware of his body next to mine. The warmth radiating from him was like a physical coating, and I was careful not to touch him. Honestly, it scared me how he could affect me so easily, and then in the next breath make me spitting mad. But telling me about his brother had shifted something inside me. This whole night was starting to feel like a dream where I’d wake up to the old broody Beast.
“That’s where we’ll start seeing the meteors.” As if prompted by his words a streak of light sliced the darkness by Vega.
“I saw one!” I jolted up, watching as the meteor’s bright dust trail faded.
I swiveled back around, grinning. “That was awesome.”
“Just wait.” Beast propped himself up with his elbows and watched me. “Comet Thatcher is just starting its pass by Earth. Here soon, more meteors will come closer together. Then, we’ll see the height of the Lyrids Meteor Shower.” The corner of his lips quir
ked in a pleasant smile.
“Do you watch it every year?” I eyed him curiously and tucked my numb nose into the blanket around me.
“Yeah.” He laid back again with his hands behind his head. “You should peek in the telescope.”
Not needing another invitation. I bent over the scope and watched Mars flicker blue, white, and red. It brought back memories of Sarah and I competing for turns at the telescope while Cammie slobbered on the trip-pod leg like it was candy. I looked up from the eyepiece and blinked back the sudden moisture in my eyes. I’d always miss my uncle, but being up here in the mountains, I was actually seeing how many opportunities I’d let slip by, thinking if I was happy it was somehow betraying his memory.
Right then another meteor shot across the sky, and my heart swelled. This moment was perfect.
“Beast, is that Saturn?” I pointed to the least of the two bright stars situated by each other.
“Nope.”
“Venus then?” I hated being wrong, and my pressed lips showed it.
He chuckled. “Yes. Do you want to see it?”
I nodded. He stood and readjusted the scope. I smiled as I took in his hunched form, hands turning the dials. This was the first thing I’d do if and when I made it home again. Cammie and Sarah deserve to be happy, to feel what I feel right now.
Apparently happy with his efforts, Beast gestured for me to take a look. The sphere looked just like I remembered, a swirled orb of light colored sand. It wasn’t really sand, but its stormy atmosphere. Yet, since I couldn’t see the lightning I was demoting it to sand. I chuckled at my silly punishment, like a planet would care.
“Is there something funny?” Beast asked from behind me.
“Not really.” I sat back down next to a curious Beast. “So how much longer before the shower really gets going?” I smiled, effectively diverting the topic. I wasn’t about to explain how easily amused I was.
“Soon.” He laid back and gestured for me to do the same.
Sometime after the astronomical show, I drifted off into peaceful dreams filled with determination that tomorrow would be the first in a long chain of choosing to let go of my aunt’s strangle hold on sorrow and to be happy—just for me.
Curse of the Beast Page 21