The Beast Queen

by Felicity Partington

Hot, livid tears ran down her cheeks, this was a nightmare. It had to be. “That’s why they didn’t want me near him, why they sent him away, they thought that I’d make him spare me.”

  “It doesn’t matter Isabelle, none of it matters now.” He grabbed her shoulders firmly and pulled her to him. He was looking at her strangely, she knew that look, he thought she was crazy. “We’re going to get out of this place. You’re going to be free. Nobody is going to kill you, I won’t let them. Do you hear me?” Isabelle nodded reluctantly. Peter let his hands slide from her shoulders to her hands and squeezed them tightly before stepping away. “Now we need to hurry up, nothing has changed. We need to be as far away from this place come morning as we can be.”

  “You’re right.” Isabelle agreed, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the backs of her hands. “I don’t know how we’ll manage without Thomas. I guess we’ll just pick our way through and find the other road? We’ll be able to ride faster and-”

  Isabelle was cut off by a distant roar, one which shook the entire forest. Her hazel eyes widened, and she wondered how she had ever mistaken the soft baying of the wolf earlier for Erik. Isabelle and Peter exchanged a horrified look before they both wordlessly got onto their horses. Belle jabbed her heels into the animal’s flank and they took off through the forest as fast as their mounts could run.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Hooves thundered along against the soft dirt. A million thoughts raced through Isabelle’s mind as she ducked and weaved through the branches, glad of her childhood and how much practice she’d had riding horses. Fear was dominating almost every other emotion. She didn’t want to die, she was nearly eighteen, that was when life was supposed to start; not end. Why did it have to be her? Why did she have to die? Isabelle was dazed, everything felt numb, she wondered whether her father had known this. Whether that was why he had not come to save her. Had he truly meant to trade her life for his? She swallowed thickly, they hadn’t heard Erik again, but she didn’t dare believe it was because he wasn’t there.

  Isabelle knew him better than that.

  He had everything riding on her life.

  All of them did.

  And that was the other thought which was bothering her. She didn’t want to die, but to save her own life she had to abandon all these other people to their fate. Eternally. Was she the only one who could break the curse, or was it any other eighteen-year-old ill-fated enough to share Kari’s birthday? How long would it be before another girl was born? How many were already out in the world. Why her? Why did she have to die? Was her escape merely condemning the life of somebody else? If freed, Erik would be free to love, free to be with somebody, to marry. That thought made her reel.

  Almost poetical in its timing, another roar echoed through the forest and her horse startled, though she managed to regain control.

  “He’s behind us!” Peter shrieked, and for the first time, Isabelle heard the dread in his voice.

  “We have to hurry,” Isabelle shouted back, trying to urge her horse faster. The forest was passing in a dangerous blur now, never mind the monster chasing them, they were galloping through dense forests, one wrong footing on their horses could kill them. Isabelle couldn’t focus, she couldn’t stop, if Erik caught her then it was all over. He’d drag her back to the castle and she’d be killed. She was trying to focus, trying to not let her heart break over the utter betrayal, over her own stupidity.

  Why had she fallen in love with a monster?

  How?

  A lower growl, closer, her horse jumped a wolf and Isabelle’s eyes widened as she fought to keep her grip. It was followed by a louder roar, a bigger animal establishing his dominance, the encroaching wolf pack scattered, and she was almost relieved until she heard a cry.

  Peter was on the floor; his horse had reared, and she turned in time to see the stupid animal bolt off alone into the forest. She made her own horse skid to a stop and turned back, offering a hand, she managed to help Peter jump on behind her.

  It would impact their speed greatly, but she couldn’t just leave him.

  “Are you okay?” She called back to him as she sent the horse off again at a run.

  “I’ll live.” He snapped, and Isabelle stopped talking. This was her fault, she wondered if he was regretting ever getting involved with her. Peter’s arms were around her waist and he was shaking. He was more scared than she thought. She should be terrified too, but she wasn’t. Because even though she knew why he was chasing her, the thought of Erik being right there, of him closing in on her, made her heart beat faster for all the wrong reasons. It had been so long since she’d seen him.

  The thin track through the forest that they'd been flying down had begun to open up, and soon Isabelle found herself not having to give the horse directions. It struck the main road and accelerated without bidding. The unmistakable sound of the beast crashing through the brush behind them followed. Isabelle closed her eyes and lowered her head against the horse's neck, feeling Peter's arms tighten on her as his own head pressed against her back.

  It wasn't enough, over the sound of the horse's belaboured snorting, she could hear the heavy thuds of the beast's paws getting closer. She dared to open her eyes and look back; there he was.

  Her Erik.

  His head was low, mane flowing behind like a cloak. His long, loping run was quickly out-pacing the overburdened horse. Isabelle caught a glimpse of his yellow eyes. At times filled with more hurt, love and caring than any other human's she had ever known. Now they were devoid of emotion, lifeless pits of fire that filled her with a fear of him that she hadn't known since they had first met.

  She saw his frame contract in preparation to leap and she pulled hard on the reigns that had somehow stayed in her hands.

  The horse screamed but turned sharply. She saw Erik sail harmlessly to one side before momentum had the poor animal fall, spilling the two hapless humans onto the ground in a crash that forced the air from Isabelle's lungs.

  She heard Peter calling her name through the ringing in her ears and she fought the dizziness to sit up. The world stopped spinning and she started to rise, realising Peter had been pulling on her arm. Before she made it to her feet however the beast was there. With an almighty roar, he ripped Peter from her and lunged, slamming her down on her back.

  The weight of him took her breath away, his claws scratched against the flesh of her wrists as she tensed and tried to squirm free.

  “You thought you could run, from me?” He roared, his breath hot against her skin, “stupid girl. Stupid foolish girl!”

  “You expected me to what?” Isabelle screamed back, fighting to get her arms free “stay and die willingly?”

  “I expected you to do as you were told!” He thundered furiously, Isabelle had to turn her head, wincing at the volume which assaulted her ears, luckily her thick hair was providing something of a cushion for her head.

  “Well, then you don’t know me very well!” She spat back, quietly. His eyes flared, and his paws tightened their grip against her.

  “You claimed to love me,” he accused, “and yet you’d steal from me the chance to be human. To live.” Isabelle swallowed thickly.

  A branch snapped, and her eyes shot backwards. Erik had already reacted and turned from her, rounding on Peter quickly who was standing behind them, his sword raised. Erik didn’t hesitate. Standing to his full and terrible height he shot out an arm and lifted the man bodily into the air by his throat. The sword clattered to the ground uselessly. Peter’s eyes bulged, his entire face reddening as he flailed ineffectually against the Beast's arm.

  “Erik,” ‘Belle stumbled to her feet quickly, moving forward, “don’t.”

  “Why? Do you love him too?” The King’s voice was a low, threatening grumble now. Peter’s hands clawed at Erik’s, but it was no good, the beast’s grip was too tight.

  “Don’t be stupid!” Belle spat, “of course I don’t love him. But I don’t want to stay here. I don’t want to die.”

>   “I didn’t want to be turned into this!” Erik growled, grotesque paw-like hand flexing easily against Peter’s flesh, “do you think anybody pitied me?”

  “Let him go, Erik, please.” She was scared, she didn't know how far Eric was willing to go, didn't know what sort of mood he might be in. Was she going to die before her birthday?

  “Let him go where Isabelle? You really haven’t understood anything you’ve learnt, have you? For a girl who claims to be so clever, you’re being rather obtuse. He cannot leave. Nobody can leave.” Isabelle paused for a moment, her brow creased before understanding dawned and she stumbled backwards. Luckily a tree caught her and stopped her from falling all the way back. “I think she’s finally got it.” Erik’s tone was scathing.

  “He’s one of your people too.” There was absolute resignation in her tone, Peter tried to shake his head, to protest, but he couldn’t.

  “You’re lying.” Isabelle insisted, but she wasn’t completely sure. If Peter couldn’t leave, why did Erik chase them down with such ferocity? The comprehension hit her like a lead weight. “But I’m not part of the curse. I can leave.” She saw Erik’s stance falter. “I could run, and leave, and never see this place again.”

  “You’d have to get past me,” Erik growled,

  “I don’t think I do.” Isabelle realised, standing up, “I don’t think that you can make me go back up there. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so preoccupied stopping Peter running around in circles. You’d stop me. You’d already have dragged me back to the castle.” Isabelle stepped towards Erik and Peter, whose face was turning a disgusting shade of purple. “You need a willing sacrifice.” Isabelle took a deep breath. She was trembling but looking at him, being here with him, it was the only time she’d felt anything but abject desolation in weeks. This wasn’t a way to exist.“Let him live, I’ll come back with you.”

  “You would spare his life for your own?” He looked down at her, not a mote of concern for the man suffocating in his grasp.

  “No. I will give my life for you. Prove to me that you’re not a monster and I will die so that you can be human.” For a horrible moment, Isabelle didn’t think it would work, Peter’s eyes closed. She held her breath, not wanting to see him die. Then Erik’s hand let him go and he fell to the floor. Isabelle rushed towards him, she intended to check his pulse, but he began sputtering and coughing before she got to him. Focusing on him she could fight the bile rising in her throat.

  “I’m not from here!” He rasped painfully, “he’s lying.”

  “A deal is a deal, Isabelle.” The gruff, low threat came from behind her and slowly she stood, brushed down her ruined nightgown, tried to gather a modicum of respectability, and nodded.

  “Don’t do this.” Peter growled from the floor, “he’s a monster. You can’t free him, he needs to stay locked here. In this prison, away from the rest of the world.”

  “He’s not a monster,” Isabelle said softly.

  “Are you coming?” Erik barked,

  “In a minute” Isabelle snapped back. Her attention turned back to Peter. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I’ll be fine.” Peter sighed, “I gave everything to save you, you can’t just let him win.”

  Isabelle didn’t answer him, there was no possible way that she could explain. She wasn’t as strong as her father, she didn’t want to live in a world where Erik didn’t love her. Silently she closed the distance between her and Erik. He started walking but she pushed past him. Then she paused.

  “Wait.” She demanded.

  “What now?” Eric snarled.

  “If nobody else can get in, how did my father find you? How did I arrive?” Her eyes met Erik’s and they stared at each other for a long time.

  “The witch who cursed me.” Erik started, Isabelle’s eyes widened as the slow realisation arrived.

  “I was born to break the curse, that’s the price, that’s why she helped my parents have me and why she wanted me to visit her when I was eighteen.” It was a strange feeling, to have the entire purpose of your existence laid before you. “Am I even human?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t know. Your father came here and nobody was more surprised than me, but it had been so long, we thought perhaps time was moving slowly, dared to hope that things were thawing. The moment you arrived I knew why you were here.”

  “But why did you even agree to have me here?”

  “Maybe I was feeling nice.”

  “You’re many things Erik, nice isn’t one of them. You set up rooms, had clothes made for me, you didn’t want me here to clean floors. There’s something you’re not telling me, and I won’t move until you have.”

  “You really are the most stubborn, difficult woman I’ve ever met.” He growled. Isabelle smiled as if she considered it a compliment. She opened her mouth to respond, but she saw Peter standing behind the beast. He was moving slowly, still weakened, but he was holding the sword. Isabelle tried to deter him with her eyes, but the problem was that she was only half sure she wanted to.

  Yes, she loved Erik.

  Yes, it was awful that they were all cursed.

  But no, she still didn’t want to die.

  She’d waited her entire life for something exciting to happen, to grow up, to be somebody. Now she knew what she was for, and that boring adult life she’d feared was never meant for her; but oh how she wanted it now. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on her.

  Erik had sensed that something was wrong, whether he heard or not she would never know, he turned, and she made to grab his arm to stop him. Erik shrugged her off like she weighed nothing and rounded angrily on Peter who was clutching the sword to him like a shield.

  “I spare you and you mean to stab me in the back?” Erik thundered, spittle flying from his bared fangs, Peter backed up a step, but the beast was on him, easily wrenching the sword away and throwing it to the floor out of reach. He roared in the man's face. Isabelle suspected that it was jealousy as much as betrayal that was fuelling his anger.

  “Erik, don’t hurt him.” Isabelle pleaded, stepping forward. Erik pushed her back with his foot. She stumbled, and her brow creased angrily. “We had a deal.”

  “But he couldn’t abide by it. He must try and save the beautiful maiden. Isn’t that what heroes do?” Isabelle threw her hands up in frustrated anguish. Erik had hold of Peter's wrist, pulling the man towards him, the other pulling back to strike.

  Isabelle was altogether fed up of everybody acting like she was a poor girl who needed saving.

  That’s when her eyes fixed on the sword, without missing a beat she picked it up. She saw Peter's eyes widen as she threw herself forward, blade in both hands.

  It struck Erik in the back and dove deep.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  It went through easier than she had imagined, it was sharp enough that even Erik’s considerable bulk gave little resistance. She pushed it in all the way up to the hilt and then stepped back, just in time for Erik to throw his arms up with an almighty bellow which reverberated off the empty forest.

  He was terrifying in his fury.

  He rounded on Isabelle instantly. Standing on two feet. He was bigger than Isabelle remembered, seeming to stretch above her like a tree. She would never get used to the size of him, but that thought was immediately followed by the notion that she wouldn’t have to. He towered over her, eyes lit up with ferocity. Her legs wanted to give way, she wanted to step back, to fall away and put as much space between her and his anger as she could.

  But she didn’t.

  Isabelle stood her ground and held his gaze stubbornly.

  “I am immortal, you stupid girl!” He yelled. Isabelle shrugged nonchalantly, forcing herself to remain outwardly still in the face of his rage. Behind the beast, she could see Peter backing up silently. He looked directly at her in shock. Isabelle understood. Erik was speared through and still walked, what could either of them possibly do to harm him now? She shook her head imperceptibly, a warning f
or him to do nothing. Peter blinked but didn't move.

  “That’s a shame.” She spat back. Peter made to move to her aid and stopped again.

  “You would murder me?”

  “You’re going to kill me. Call it even?” There was a venom in her voice that she hadn’t been aware that she possessed. Peter was staring at the ground, his fists raised. Isabelle hoped he'd see sense and run. She tried to convey as much with her eyes, but it was hard because she didn’t want Erik to realise what she was doing.

  “And if I’d have died?”

  “Then I could have left and lived. Besides, I stopped you breaking your word. You should be thanking me.” She said with a shrug, amazed at how easily the calmness came to her. “Now he can leave, and you get to murder me with a clear conscience.”

  Peter looked up sharply as realisation dawned; she wanted him to leave and now it was on him as to whether he'd respect her wishes.

  He turned and fled. She paid him no more mind.

  “You think my conscience is clear? Do you think it will ever be clear?” He was incandescent with rage, but with Peter gone, all Isabelle could look at was the shape of the blade exiting Erik's torso; seemingly forgotten by the beast.

  “I don’t think you have one." She responded finally, her eyes lifting to his, "You trapped me in your castle, you toyed with me, and now you’re going to kill me. That sounds like a rather cold and calculated plan to me.”

  “I didn’t toy with you.” He protested, suddenly unsure “I…”

  “Save it. If this is the part where you tell me that you really do love me, you just love your freedom more, then don’t. I don’t care. And I certainly don’t buy it.”

  “I do love you!” Erik snapped, his face fell, and he stopped in place, his arms frozen in gesture. Isabelle’s eyes widened for a long minute as she battled with herself internally to not soften at the confession.

  “This is just how you show love I suppose.” Her arms were folded defensively in front of her,