by A. W. Cross
He squeezed her, running a cooling hand over her wounds. The pain fizzled away with his touch. “Yes?”
“You’ve given me something precious, haven’t you?”
He snorted softly. “Yeah. I have.”
“Priceless, even.”
He hummed, adjusting her weight. A hand settled beneath her chin, and her eyes fluttered open to peer at his ghastly yellow stare. Such gentleness she had never seen before.
“Do you want me to say it?”
Her lips tipped coyly. “Perhaps a little. It’s been an exhausting day. Cursed my first kingdom and fulfilled a legend I knew nothing about all at once.”
A chuckle moved his chest. “It will cost you then.” His thumb skimmed the corner of her mouth. “Little boar,” he began, tasting her, “I crave you.” His tongue teased. “I enjoy you.” He peppered kisses over her bruised cheek, erasing the injury. “My heart beats for you.”
A blush heated her body as she melded against him. Murmuring, she chuckled, “That’s not—”
“I love you.” His lips locked around hers, sealing the moment in a sacred touch. She felt the new beginning in her soul and shivered, breathing it in like once upon a time.
Exhaling like the end.
Epilogue
Or was it?
Roald tore through the woods, his body breaking. His bones cracked in his ears. The fabric he wore ripped into shreds. Falling onto clawed hands, he ate the distance between him and his castle, if it truly was his castle. Brambles were investing the area, the pure marble bleeding black.
All light died as he passed, and he rose from his haunches the second he slammed through the door, throwing it shut behind him. His chest rose and fell, panic swelling in his lungs until they burned. Back against the now-dark wooden door, he stared at the silent shadows. Had everyone, even his guard, vanished?
He couldn’t let the witch get away with this. She had damned him. And he would return the favor ten-fold. Break this curse. How difficult could it be to find a lover? Women threw themselves at his feet. He had wealth beyond measure to coax their simple minds into his hands.
His hands.
Lifting a shaking palm, he stiffened to find his fingers had deformed. Scars ran over his skin like a patchwork design. He raised the horrifying claw to his face, finding protruding fangs sticking out over his lips.
His roar made the palace tremble. Stalking forward upon no less than paws, he crashed into his ballroom. The haunting area appeared saturated with ghosts, the walls coated with gaping, empty faces, but he ignored the possibility that everyone who had been on the grounds now screamed petrified there and made his way to the golden mirror.
It had turned black, but the glass remained clear.
Shredded fabric hung off his hulking mass in tatters, every inch of skin wrought with dark veins and knitted scars. He had gone a ghastly white, all healthy color leached from his skin. His only recognizable feature was his two blue eyes. They peered at him, his shaggy mane of brown hair unkempt around his ears.
He was a monster. A pitiful monster.
He hated what he saw. No amount of wealth would smooth the fact he was an abomination. The witch had given him such a simple hope, then in the same instant, wrenched it away.
For who could ever learn to love a beast?
Acknowledgments
Every story that starts as a tiny seed in my mind would never grow without so many people helping supply it the proper nutrients. The solitary act of planting may very well be the easiest part, so to the following sun, water, air, and life-givers, thank you.
Noee, you never once falter in your belief that I can accomplish great things. Even as I take on the world and an insane number of responsibilities, you haven’t once told me to slow down or think. Maybe you should, once in a while, but I suppose time will tell in that regard. You are a bright light in my life in the darkest times as I fight to move forward and make something of these words. Thank you for your endless hours of faith, for your days of beta reading, for your bafflingly beautiful covers, for never—ever—ceasing in your endeavors to be you. The world needs more Noee in it.
Ale, you are an incredible friend and beta reader and everything. I don’t know where I’d be without your attention to detail and story-loving prowess. Thank you for bearing with my sporadic appearances, my rough drafts, my long overdue letters… I will get it together someday, and I know it will be majorly thanks to your tireless efforts.
Fatimah, where to begin? I never expected someone like you to find me when I first decided I was going to seriously publish my work. You motivate me when I’m tired, exhausted, ready to take an unplanned month-long vacation… Just knowing that someone will be there to support these scrambled letters when they hit the market is an incredible relief. I hope to never let you down when it comes to the magical realms, the book boyfriends, or the main leads. May we always exist in our bookish kingdoms, side by side.
Boriana, have we done it again? I think we’ve done it again. Thank you so much for sticking with me as long as you have. Plowing through the plot holes and typos and funky wording as diligently as a superhero. You are polish and shine for these weird little misshapen rocks that I find in the woods, and I love you for it.
A special thank you to The Enchanted Quill Press for allowing this story to go live with their box set before it tries life solo. I’m forever grateful to be a part of the journey the Kingdom of Fairytales’ Queens are embarking on. Thank you so much.
To one and all, every reader who touches these pages, every person who’s brushed my life, thank you.
With love and lore,
Anne
Also by Anne Stryker
Escapism: A Novella Collection
Lurking in the Woods (Beyond the Veil #1)
About Anne
Thank you!
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Thieves and Monsters by Kelly N. Jane
1
Stella
The ride-share driver felt the need to converse the entire way home. I’d done everything I could to ignore him, but the man was relentless. If he needed to talk to people that badly, he should find a different job. People wanted to get where they were going in peace, not listen to how your kids played soccer every Saturday morning.
I blocked out the incessant chatter and concentrated on more important matters. Summer was almost over, and it was the first time I’d be home. After my time in Europe, there were only four weeks left to work at Daddy’s firm before junior year started.
I didn’t know how to tell him I’d changed my mind and didn’t want to follow his footsteps into law anymore. In fact, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go to college at all. Maybe I wouldn’t have to say anything. At least, not for another six years when I had to admit I wouldn’t be graduating with a Bachelor’s.
Taking all those AP classes and pushing myself for a 4.0 would be a waste. I huffed. Could I do both? I could practice law and keep an online business. That would send my friends into fits about how I need to have more fun in my life.
While I liked the lifestyle Daddy gave me, and I wasn’t ready to give it up, I wanted to prove myself. Just me, Stella, an intelligent and capable young woman, and not only the daughter of a prominent Georgetown lawyer.
With a sigh, I decided to put off decisions about college for a while and threw a weak smile toward the rearview mirror to make Chatty think I was still listening. Instead, I started making a list of ideas I had for my budding business. I loved c
ollecting antiques and could sell them as upscale decor. They gave a sense of old-world charm, but more importantly, the appearance of old-world money. Everyone I knew would pay for an artifact that helped them build a false aristocracy in their family tree. I could travel, and my clients could pay—it was a win, win.
Daddy always quoted that line from a movie that business wasn’t personal, but then would add, “Unless it is,” and wink at me. He’d be proud when I showed him what I’d done. I’d sell the few items I brought home from my trip and share my plans with him when I had a bigger client list.
By the time I’d finally made it to our row house, I only wanted a shower and a plate of Chinese. Mrs. Potter would make it for me, for sure. It was good to be home where everyone understood the way things worked again. I couldn’t take dealing with any more beastly people.
Carson opened the door before I finished walking up the steps, and I sighed in relief. “Thank you. Can you please have Mrs. Potter make those spring rolls I like and bring a plate up to me when she’s finished? The airline lost my luggage! Can you believe that? It was a direct flight from London. How does that happen? It’s been a hellish day, and I just want to relax.”
Carson cleared his throat and seemed uncomfortable. “Mrs. Potter has gone to her yearly retreat, and we’ve had to hire day help. There isn’t anyone in the kitchen at this hour, I’m afraid. I can call for a delivery from Chan’s if you wish?”
I leaned against the balustrade and let my shoulders slump. “Fine, just pick something for me. I’m too starved to decide.”
“Of course, Miss. Stella. I’ll bring it up as soon as it arrives.”
The phone in my purse startled me when it rang. I’d forgotten that I’d turned it back on when I’d arrived in the States. I didn’t want to talk with anyone, but then I remembered it could be the airline so I dug it out and answered.
As I hit the green button, I expected an apologetic airline representative. “This better be good news!”
“Miss. Lebeau?”
“Yes.” Who else would this be? I rolled my eyes.
“I am a friend of your father, and I really need to speak with you.”
What? It took me a couple seconds to realize this wasn’t the airline. The woman’s voice had a sultry tone I didn’t believe came from one of the lawyers at Daddy’s office, either. “I have no idea who you are, and you need to lose this number.” I ended the call without waiting for her response.
Before I reached the top of the stairs, my phone rang again. The same number flashed across the screen. I sent the call directly to voicemail and turned off my phone. Whatever relationship Daddy had with that woman, I didn’t want to know about it.
All I cared about was a hot bath and my fuzzy slippers—the ones no one of any importance knew I had or would ever see.
Propped up in bed while reading the latest fantasy book I’d downloaded, I startled when someone knocked on my bedroom door.
“What?” Who needed to bother me? I stretched to grab my phone from the nightstand and check the time. It was still off from before. This intrusion had better be important.
My door cracked open, and Carson spoke from behind it. “I’m sorry. Your luggage has arrived, but the delivery driver insists that you are the only one who can sign for it. I’ve threatened everything I could think of, but he won’t budge.” Exasperation permeated his voice.
I couldn’t yell at the poor man. He’d served my father since before I was born and hated to upset me.
“I have to go down there?” I’d already taken off my make-up and was in my pajamas.
Carson stepped inside and shifted from foot to foot. He darted looks over his shoulder several times. “I know it’s an inconvenience, but it seems to be the only way to rid ourselves of the scoundrel and gather your things.”
With a huff, I threw the blankets off and slipped my feet into my fluffy pink slippers. Even ready for bed as I was, it would probably give the guy something better to look at than he’d seen in a while. “Fine.”
I stomped to the door, but Carson stepped in front of me. “Perhaps your robe would be appropriate?”
Looking down at my tank top and tiny shorts, I smirked and headed to my closet without a word. It took me several minutes to rifle through my things and find what I needed. When I emerged, I posed with one hand on my hip and the other palm up. “Will this do?” My silky blue robe hung to my thighs, but I left it open.
Carson seemed discomfited, yet nodded before hurrying out my door. The poor man was too sweet sometimes. Entertained by my own antics, I followed after ditching the slippers in favor of going barefoot.
At the top of the stairs I stopped to spy on the man in the foyer. He stood next to my three Gucci bags making my lip curl. Greasy hair covered part of his face, and the airline polo he wore hung limp from his shoulders. He was not someone I wanted to know my address.
I started to head down the stairs and then caught the man’s reflection in that ugly mirror Daddy insisted on keeping hung by the door. The image was watery and unclear, and I wondered what could cause that. Although one never looked their best in that thing—which was another reason I hated it—this guy didn’t even show properly. He appeared ethereal, like he was some type of mirage.
I gave a quick shake of my head and smiled to myself. My focus had to be affected because I’d been reading about werewolves. I looked away and settled my shoulders. As my eyes shifted, I saw it! A huge, jagged line down the side of my biggest bag.
“What is that?” I heard the shriek of my voice and didn’t care. Those bags cost more than this guy probably made in two months—if not more. How could the airline be so careless?
The man spun toward me, and I saw the shock on his face as he watched me race down the final few steps, my appearance no longer any concern. He wisely slid a step backward as I hopped to the landing. Crouching in front of my bag, I ran my fingers over the blemish. It could never be repaired properly.
“Now I’ll need a new bag. Whose responsibility is this? Someone has to pay for this damage!”
“I just deliver the bags, miss. I have a form you need to sign.” The guy had the audacity to shove a clipboard toward me. His eyes were wide, and he seemed ready to bolt through the door as soon as I stood.
“This bag is ruined. Did you do it?” I stepped closer to him as he leaned away and pressed his back against the closed front door.
“No, it was that way when it came off the plane. It’s right here on the form, if you’ll just sign,” he said while pointing his finger at the paper.
Carson picked up the other two bags. “I’ll help you as soon as I come back down,” he said before heading upstairs. Knowing Carson, he’d want to situate the bags just right in my closet before returning. No matter. I could handle this guy myself.
“My father is an attorney—the best there is. You and your company will be dust when he’s finished with you.” I knew it wasn’t this guy’s fault, but he was here, and he could take back the message.
“It’s only a bag, miss. Thankfully, it wasn’t something of true worth.”
There was something about the gleam in this guy’s eyes, like he was challenging me. What would make him think that was a good idea? I glanced at the name on his shirt and then back to his face.
“Well, Tony,” I said. “Not everyone is smart enough to understand the worth of a bag like mine.”
I ripped the pen from his hand and scratched my name on the stupid clipboard, shoving it against his chest after I finished.
“Thank you,” he said. “Someone will be in touch with you about your damages.” Tony held my stare.
“Just leave and forget you’ve ever been here.” I could feel the curl on my lip as I spoke. I hoped that only served to make my point.
As I tried to spin away and head back upstairs, Tony put his hand on my arm. I jerked away and stepped back while darting a glance at the stairs and wondering why Carson hadn’t yet returned.
The air suddenly fel
t thick, and my mind went fuzzy. When I looked back at Tony, he wasn’t the skinny delivery guy anymore.
2
Stella
The boy was gone. In his place stood a woman dressed in a gown straight out of a medieval fairytale. Cascades of wavy blonde hair fell over her shoulders, landing against shimmering gossamer fabric in a light teal. Bell-shaped sleeves fell to her wrists, and a belt of gold and silver threads encrusted with jewels encircled her small waist.
No matter how I tried, I couldn’t breathe more than a sip of air. All around the woman was an ethereal glow that seemed unreal. I had to be hallucinating, but that didn’t make sense. I shook my head and squeezed my eyes tight.
“One . . . Two . . . Three,” I counted slowly under my breath. I must have fallen asleep while I was reading. If I could calm down, I’d wake myself up. That had to be it.
“You’re not dreaming, Stella. Open your eyes and hear what I have to say,” the woman said. Her voice was strong and commanding, yet held notes of compassion and kindness at the same time. How could someone sound like that?
I cracked one lid, then shut it again. This didn’t make sense. Where was Carson? Swallowing hard, I opened my eyes. Whoever this was, I’d handle it. That’s what Daddy would do. He’d find a way to turn the situation around to his benefit. That’s what I’d do, too.
When I glanced at the mirror, the woman’s image was clear and her beauty radiated even more. A small crown sat on her head, also.
This was all wrong.
“I don’t know who you are or where that guy went, but you need to leave my home before I call the authorities.” I lowered my shoulders and stood tall. Despite the woman towering over my five-foot-six frame, I refused to allow her to intimidate me—much.