by L M Wilson
Beasts Rose
LM Wilson
©LM Wilson 2019
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the express written permission of the author/publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Biography
LM Wilson is an Australian author. Loves art in all shapes and forms. Between being a mother and published Author (both traditionally and Indie), has her hands full yet still manages to produce a book every couple of months.
LM Wilson has been writing since the age of fourteen. First published at sixteen. Has a Diploma in English Literature and A diploma in IT Networking. Hundreds of published novels in all genres and several known and unknown Pseudonyms. She's funky and weird, but you can blame that on the fact that she lives upside down and backwards in the Land of Aus!
Dedication
I'd like to dedicate this book to my family who have supported me through all the highs and lows of writing.
and...
To the readers,
I want to thank you all for giving my books a chance. I know not all stories are for everyone, but I hope you enjoy this one.
Blurb
Beauty and the beast wasn’t about the man cursed to be the beast, no, the real story is much worse. The was no enchanted rose, in fact the rose from the story was a person. Rose Belladonna the real beauty from the story. Rose was the one cursed, she scorned the wrong guy and he decided it would be her fate to live a long and never-ending life, cursed to outlive every mortal being until time itself stopped. Rose wandered the world, her life on repeat, never finding a way to die. That is until she met them. The men who changed everything.
Bryant Beastly, alpha wolf cursed to survive an unending life without a pack. For what pack would take in an Alpha who couldn’t change at will? Cursed to live his days as a human and his nights as a wolf, never knowing a way out.
Kalum Leroy, alpha lion cursed to forever be ruled by his rage. A danger to humans, Supernaturals and animals alike. No one is safe from his temper and with no control he hides himself away from the world to protect others. Then he stumbles upon a woman in the middle of a forest, can he control his temper long enough to break the curse or will he be doomed to remain a beast forever?
Forest Fader, a shadow walker with a dark past, a man cursed to be ruled by the evil running through his veins, can he put his past aside long enough to help the beauty from the woods, or will his dark side doom them all?
Rose’s presence in their lives changed everything, but can Beauty and the Beasts find a way to be together or will the evil from their pasts forever keep them apart?
Warning from the author
The story in this book is a complete story. It is a retelling of an old fairy tale that I love. While the book is technically two parts, the second half is a continuation of the first.
The first part tells the story of Rose Belladonna and her men. It is a reverse harem story where the female main character does not have to choose between the men at the end of the story.
The second half is a sweet little romance between two characters, (a female and a male) that continues the story of the beast from Rose’s story.
I hope you enjoy reading this book
Regards
LM Wilson
P.S be kind, if you like the book, leave a review.
Prologue: Narrator
The stars in the inky sky, shine like the hearts of lovers. The darkness illuminated only by their pale light, until the moon peeks out from behind the clouds, shinning down upon Devil’s Glade. Within the Glade dwells a woman, a woman who sits by the fire, a pen poised over a notebook. She brings the pen to her mouth each time she can’t think of a word. Not just any word, but the perfect word to place in the story her heart is creating. It’s not just any story though. It’s the story that will start a never-ending adventure. A story that will stand against time, age and the curiosity that are fads or trends.
She takes the pen and begins to write of a love that rivals even the most swoon-worthy romance novel. She writes of an adventure that would make anyone believe in magic and then she adds to the tale, creating a villain that’s so scary he would make even the most raven of hair turn the palest shade of white. On and on she writes, forever living through the characters that she creates.
Her hopes and dreams are poured out onto the paper before her. One dream though, will forever elude her, for she is cursed. Cursed to remain in this world, cursed to forsake all mortal ties and forbidden from ever finding the one thing her heart truly desires.
Love.
She places the pen and notebook down, lifting her face to the glow of the moon. Her time is nearly over for this night like all others must come to an end. Climbing to her bare feet, she takes her time crossing the small room to the bed that awaits her slumber. The soft pillow awaiting her tawny hair is covered in a pale cream pillowcase that is decorated with the deepest red roses. She sighs in sadness, knowing that once again, that pillow will absorb her tears as she cries her lonely heart out. Begging for the gods to take her life or lift the curse.
There is no hope left within her heart as she climbs beneath the matching sheets and heavy white woollen blankets. There’s no joy left in her heart. Even her stories that once held her fascination have become nothing more than a reminder of all she will never have. This becomes her routine night after night. A never-ending feeling of loneliness and sorrow.
One mistake was all it took to end her. One mistake and she pays for it every day. It’s cruel and bitter, the heart of the one she spurned. He left her here to live out her days, alone and broken.
But even he couldn’t see what was to come. Even he couldn’t keep her forever.
Beauty and the Beast wasn’t about a man cursed to be the beast, no, the real story was about Rose. The very woman who dwells within these walls. The woman who writes to keep herself sane. Her stories have spanned the centuries, becoming nothing more than fairy tales and myths. Legends that mortals tell their children to keep them from making Rose’s mistakes.
Rose Belladonna, the real beauty from the story, lays her head upon the pillow, her tears indeed soaking the fabric as she begins to weep. Pain and suffering are all she’s known these last five-hundred years. However, Rose’s life and fate is forever changed by a knock upon her door.
Now I could continue to tell you Rose’s story, but I believe it would be better told, by rose herself.
◆◆◆
Rose’s Curse: Rose
My tears are forever falling, soaking my pillow, and ruining the fabric, but I just can’t seem to stop them. My curse has stopped me from living my life, prevented me from finding love. What woman could ever truly admit that she doesn’t crave even the smallest of touches, a conversation, companionship, friendship, or even just plain attention?
I know I crave it all, have done for over four-hundred years.
The first few years were a lot of fun, knowing one can’t die is an adventure, but after a while it becomes monotonous. Never being able to get close to anyone, knowing that even if you do, they could die at any given time, while you live on.
Immortal, alone.
I no longer weep for the things I had. I weep for the things I’ll never know.
For who could ever love, the monster that dwells within the heart of Devils Glade?
Who could love someone who will ultimately outlive you?
Who could love someone who was so evil this was how they were punished?
I wasn’t always this loner, hiding away from the world. No, once upon a time, I was a woman in love. A woman who thought she had everything. Th
e perfect life, the perfect man, everything.
Well, I did until I met a man who wanted to claim me for his own. A man who wanted to add me to his collection.
Just as the last rays of the sun begin to fade from the sky, banging on my door has me out of my bed and running so fast you’d blink and not see me move. No one knocks on my door. Not ever. Well, not in the last three hundred odd years anyway.
But standing on my doorstep, with his fist raised is a man, a man who looks like he’s seen better days. His dark brown hair spills across his bare broad shoulders, looking more than a little dishevelled. My gaze travels down, impeded but not completely blocked by the peephole I’m staring through. Those stunning muscles lead to the light splattering of dark hair across his pecs. My perusal doesn’t stop there, it travels further down to the trail running from his navel down to the juncture between his legs. The gasp that leaves me is muted by the groan he emits as he collapses right on my doorstep, his fist knocking before he disappears from the view of the peephole in the blink of an eye.
Yanking the door open causes his body to fall through the doorway. My hands catching him before his gorgeous face hits the wooden floorboards under my feet. Torn between wanting to help this stranger and wanting to keep my secrets, I stand there for several moments staring at the man on my floor. He’s truly a sexy specimen; long muscular legs, solid biceps that just beg to be explored and his ass, my god, I swear you could bounce a coin off it.
He’s absolute perfection.
Until he isn’t…
One second, I’m drooling over the man, the next I’m screaming and running out the door.
The man turned into a fucking wolf.
I’m not even kidding here. He was a man, then he sort of shimmered and then a huge black wolf was lying on my floor.
I’m not unaccustomed to magic, I mean hello, I was cursed with never ending life then trapped in a forest to live out my eternal existence with no one for company.
But come on… He turned into a fucking wolf!
Don’t get me wrong, I can leave my cabin, but only until sunset, once the sun goes down, if I’m not back within those walls my entire body goes into spasms that cause agony that is completely indescribable. It lasts the entire night until the sun peeks its head back over the horizon or until I somehow manage to make it back inside my cabin.
Which is how I find myself screaming on the ground not three feet from my own door.
Fight or flight instincts really suck sometimes.
I have no idea how long I’m writhing on the ground in agony for but if the mirage in front of me is anything to go by, I must be truly out of it.
Warm hands slip beneath my shoulders and legs and then I’m swaying with his steps. Right back into the safety of my four prison walls.
“I told you I heard someone screaming.” The man’s voice rumbles out into the sudden silence.
“Yeah, yeah. You were right. Don’t get used to it Kalum, you’ll only make that big head even bigger.” A second male’s voice comes from somewhere near my feet but I’m too weak to lift my head or open my eyes.
Dying really sucks sometimes.
I feel the softness of my bed beneath me and groan as the pain begins to fade.
My life really sucks.
The Cabin: Bryant
I can’t believe we got this close to finding that asshole only to end up in the wrong place. It’s fucking weird because my wolf is never wrong. The only thing I can think of is that Fader fucked up somehow.
The girl though, my god, she’s amazing. Dark hair that is a cross between blonde and brown, the kind of colour that looks almost black when wet or blonde out in the sun. She’s a vision. I didn’t get a chance to see the colour of her eyes, but if they are anything like the rest of her, they’re going to be breath taking.
I can’t believe she actually opened the door for me. Although the whole trying to run away after I changed into my wolf put a bit of a downer on our meeting. I don’t blame her though. Anyone would run away if they saw a naked man change into an animal right in front of their eyes.
The strangest part is that I wasn’t a man when I came across her cabin. I was a wolf, just like I normally am at night, but I changed back the second I came within a few feet of her door. That has never happened before. Usually once the sun goes down, that’s it, I’m nothing more than a beast. I don’t know what is so special about this place, but I can already tell that this isn’t Loki Bromamere’s place; He’d never lower himself to something like this.
“Well, the girl seems to have settled.” I glance over my shoulder towards the girl, she is indeed sleeping peacefully. Kalum carried her inside after she collapsed on the ground. I’m not sure if her screaming was just because I had scared her or if something else was the cause.
Kalum’s a gentle giant, he has to be. Anything bad would make him break out in a case of Lion-itis. We’re all cursed, whether we choose to talk about it or not, it doesn’t change the fact that we’re all cursed.
“What do you think we should do about her?” Fader asks rummaging through her cabinets.
“You shouldn’t go through her stuff.” I growl as Fader pulls out a frying pan. The asshole rarely eats human food, but when he does, he goes on a food binge, eating anything he can get his hands on.
“Bryant’s right give the girl some privacy, it’s bad enough that we invaded her home…” Kalum trails off sniffing the air. “Is that bacon?” His stomach lets out a growl that could rival my own. “Maybe she’s a good host and would feel bad if we didn’t at least have something to eat.”
I roll my eyes to the ceiling begging for patience. I swear these two will be the death of me one day and it won’t be death by blade or bullet, no the two of them will drive me so crazy that my mind will just shut down and never start back up again.
Okay, so I love them both. As crazy as they drive me, they have their good points. Very few and far between but they do have them.
Kalum snatches the bacon strips right out of Fader’s hands, he rips the packet open and my eyes are once again rolling to the ceiling. “Hey! At least cook it first. Try to act a little civilised, we are in someone else’s home right now, not back at the cave.”
Apparently cooking bacon is beyond either of them. As they stand there arguing over what the best method is to cook the damn food, I grab the frying pan, a carton of eggs, loaf of bread and the meat. If I left those two to deal with it, we’d be still waiting to eat come nightfall.
First Visitors: Rose
The sun shining through my window practically blinds me, not to mention setting my head to pounding, which isn’t helped by the shouting coming from my kitchenette. It takes me a few minutes to bring the memory of last night back to my mind and the second it does, I’m scrambling out of my bed and rushing into the kitchenette.
Leaning against the small breakfast island is a tall, (I’m talking at least six-three, maybe six-four tall) man, he’s arguing heatedly with two others, but my attention is completely on him at the moment. His golden mane of hair is flowing over muscle-bound shoulders that have to be at least three feet wide, but it’s not his size that has me gasping and alerting them to my presence. It’s his golden eyes. They are seriously gold, like those of a cat, complete with a pupil that is slitted instead of round. The scariest part about him though is the fact that his face is devoid of emotions.
This man has one hell of a poker face and I don’t see a single age line even though he would have to be somewhere in his mid to late twenties.
My first thought is that maybe he’s stand-offish around new people, but then I notice his posture, it’s open and friendly. The kind of person that screams hug me from his body language alone, but his face. I just can’t get past that impassive expression.
“I’ve finally lost my mind.” I declare to the room, swinging my gaze to the dark-haired wolf-man from last night. If I hadn’t seen him change right in front of my eyes…
Nope, even seeing it, I’m st
ill thinking I’ve lost my marbles.
Yup, I’ve gone certifiably insane, it was bound to happen sooner or later. You can’t really spend centuries alone without losing your mind at some point.
Movement from the third guy in the room has me turning my attention back to them. Standing next to wolf-man is a man who screams bad news from looks alone. His hair isn’t black, nor is it brown or any normal human colour. No, his hair is silver, not grey from age but actual shimmering silver, like his hair has been spun from the precious metal. I’ve seen all kinds of strange dyed hair colours over the centuries, but this one is so far from normal that I’m actually thinking it might be natural.
It's freaking silver! Like the ring on my finger for heaven’s sake. Just more proof that I’ve finally lost it.
“Darling, if you’ve lost your mind by being in our presence then maybe you should go with the flow and let me take you back to bed.” The dark-haired guy’s wink more than his words sends a blush across my cheeks. I’m not an innocent by any standards, over four hundred years on this planet remember. But damn, I’ve never seen anyone as panty meltingly handsome as the three men currently eating my meagre supply of food.
“Wh-who are you?” I stutter, actually stutter my words.
“Damn, where are our manners?” The golden-haired guy asks before pointing at the wolf-man. “Bryant Beastly, yes he’s a werewolf and yes that’s really his name. Purely coincidence, nothing to do with hi-.”
“Forest Fader.” The silver haired guy interrupts holding his hand out in a professional manner. His words are clipped, and his face gives nothing away. It’s as though he’s taken a page out of golden eye’s book and hidden away his feelings behind a mask of indifference.