by Alice Wilde
My mind whirrs as I am both disgusted and alarmed, but the thought doesn’t remain long. Before I can blink, a crack like thunder sounds. Miriam is lying on the floor beside me, her face a staggering shade of red, Damien’s hand still raised in anger.
“Never draw blood again,” he says, directing his words at the shaking woman without looking toward her.
“I said was nothing,” I say, shock giving way to anger. “How dare you strike her in my presence!”
His eyes lower to meet mine, black as soot, and I am filled with the desire to retch.
“My future wife will not fain to speak to me in this way. Do so again and you will meet a fate you won’t soon forget,” he says, his eyes boring into my soul before he bends, pulls Miriam up by her hair, and marches her to the door.
I’m left breathless, as if his eyes have drained part of my soul from me. How can my father not see the cruelty of this man, despite how much Damien’s medicine might be helping him?
Casting Miriam from the room, he turns once again and motions for me to follow him. I want to remain frozen, indigent and filled with rage, but my feet don’t listen.
“Bring the beasts.”
I do as I’m bade and take up their leather leashes in my hands. As a quint, we move toward the dining hall.
My father is already seated when we arrive, the guests filling the great hall far fewer than the day before. In the weeks leading up to the wedding, unknown guests will come and go from the castle, feasting with us and otherwise congratulating my father on a match well made. If only I can find one among them who can see Damien for what he truly is—a monster. Perhaps then I could persuade father to release me from my bonds…but first I must find an ally.
We take our seats, the same ones as the night before, and I am instantly forgotten as Damien engages with my father once again. As supper is served, each of the nobles in turn come to our table and drink to our union. Not one of them looks at me.
I pick at the food, the sourness in my stomach forcing hunger far from my mind. One of the serving maids starts to pour me a glass of wine when Damien’s hand stops her.
“Not tonight,” he says without so much as a glance our way. “Bring her a draught of licorice root steeped in boiling water.”
My face twists. I hate licorice. But I say nothing as I glance up at the girl imploringly. Shock overwhelms me and my heart skips a beat.
“Rosa,” I murmur, low enough only I can hear.
Her red locks have been tied back and her face is glistening with the sweat of the evening. She’s as beautiful as ever, but her eyes are sunken in exhaustion. She smiles at me, but worry and pain are written plainly across her face.
“Of course, My Lord,” she says as she pulls her hand away from my mug, somehow managing to give me a quick squeeze on the shoulder before disappearing from the table as if she was never there.
I drop my eyes to my lap, tears welling, but I am stopped from crying by a small slip of paper lying in a crevasse of my dress. I move slowly to take it, my fingers trembling to open it without being noticed.
You are not alone. The words, as simple as they may be, light a fire in my soul. I knew she wouldn’t forget me. Perhaps I have more allies around me than I know. Damien is conversing with another noble who has come to pay his respects, and apparently offer a rather weighty gift of gold. Taking my chance, I slip the paper into the neckline of my dress and return to picking at the food in front of me.
A steaming cup of licorice tea is placed in front of me, but as I eagerly turn my head toward the girl, I am disappointed to see it is someone I don’t know. Unable to feign hunger at this point, I resolve myself to sipping at the terrible concoction that’s been set before me.
I’m surprised when I find it eases my stomach, but in no way returns my appetite. After what feels like an eternity of sipping the vile liquid, Damien turns to me, his eyes a deep amethyst.
“Drink up, my little treasure,” he says, his voice calm, low, and oddly reassuring.
I’m unsettled by the change in his demeanor, and even more so by his eyes. I recognize those eyes. But as I take a closer look, Damien’s eyes are once again black.
“Hurry,” he demands, pushing the cup to my mouth and watching with relish as I gag the remainder of the liquid down.
“Is there a reason why I am being made to drink this?” I ask.
“It is to promote fertility,” Damien says matter-of-factly, “and you will drink this every night from this day until we are wed.”
His eyes flash sapphire as his eyes shift lower to caress the peaks of my cleavage as he says, his voice as sweet as honey, “Your body, your soul, your blood will rise to meet mine, and I will take you. As soon as we are wed, we will be one. Together.”
I am thrown by the emotion in his words and feel a wetness between my legs that turns to an unwanted ache as Damien’s eyes shift once again to black. Something about his eyes is tugging at the back of my mind, but every time I try to focus on the thought, my head spins.
I spend the rest of the evening sitting in silence as I watch Damien engage with my father and the rest of the guests. I am both amazed and disgusted by how easily he manages to delight, entertain, and otherwise win over every person who approaches him. They are like soft clay in his hands.
The leopards are lying close to me but are unmoving, even as I reach to pet them. Their eyes are glazed, tired, and nearly gold in color.
Looks like I’m not the only one bored to the point of death.
Eleven
The Leopards
Ero
The knock at the door startles me, but doesn’t wake me; I hadn’t fallen asleep. The small breaths escaping Annalise’s mouth were enough to captivate me for the better part of the afternoon. As much as I want to hate her for what she’s doing to my resolve, I can’t. I slowly, lightly place my paw across her breasts. Her heartbeat sends shivers down my spine. Perhaps it’s better I’m more beast than man…At least in present form, she’s safe from my lust for her.
I feel her shift under me, and my paw spreads involuntarily, cupping one of her breasts. I shut my eyes just as hers open, her blood rising as she realizes she cannot move. I want to woo her, kiss her, show her how a real man could love her…I shove the thought from my mind. I’m a beast, there’s no use in wishing. And why the hell does love have anything to do with it? It’s just lust.
It’s obvious we’ve startled Miriam when she rushes over, but I don’t care. Our handler is quick to pry Annalise from our bodies, and I instantly regret the change but do nothing to stop it. I roll over and sit up, watching alongside Li and Roan as our heavy chains are switched out for leashes and Miriam hastens to ready Annalise for Damien’s imminent return. She’s too hasty. I smell blood even before Annalise gasps in pain.
As if on cue, Damien has arrived and is by her side in a moment. The thud as Miriam hits the floor is enough to make your skin crawl. Damien’s growing bold. I’m surprised he’s actually given Annalise a physical display of his temper. Miriam should have been more careful, we all know the consequences a single mistake can bring, but I can’t really fault her for Damien’s wretched behavior.
Li’s already growling and Roan is watching Miriam in concern as she’s dragged from the room.
My heartbeat rises inexplicably in my chest as Annalise moves to leave with Damien, but is suddenly calmed as we find out that she’s to take us with her.
Dinner fares me no better. Damien calls me out again and again to flirt and entice various guests throughout the evening. The only moment I don’t half mind is a brief, albeit very blunt remark to Annalise. If only I had more control over what was said, instead of how it was said. Only the essence of my being is used, and certainly not to its best ability.
Damien really knows how to me feel like a pig.
Damn him. Damn my feelings. Damn it all.
Roan
I see Ero has lost no time getting a far too close to Annalise for my liking. Guess I’ll have to
share. I have no idea why I just thought that. The idea of having to share her with the others is rolling around my head and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about the idea. Of course, if I had a choice, I’d keep her all to myself.
She’s spirited, reminding me of the lasses back home, but in a way that makes my skin tingle and my…well, other parts of me tingle as well.
For all Ero’s warnings against her, it’s growing harder not to bond with her…and he seems to be having an even harder time of it than I. Though, I’m not sure that what he’s more focused on could necessarily be called bonding.
Of the three of us, I’ve mastered retreating into my beast heart the best. I know it’s dangerous to allow our beasts to take over for too long, but sometimes it’s all I can do to keep myself from tearing everything and everyone apart.
I don’t want to die like the last boy who lost control of his form, but I don’t want to risk the lassie’s life either if I can help it.
A knock at the door raises my head, but I’m quickly uninterested as I see Miriam enter the room. I find it amusing when they think we’ve eaten someone, especially since none of us has ever given them reason to. I frown as Annalise is pulled from our midst, I hadn’t realized how much I had enjoyed her body so close to mine…even if Ero was the lucky bastard actually touching her.
Low growling from Li shakes me from my thoughts, which had been growing rather indecent, and I lift myself just in time to see Damien strike Miriam to the ground. I smell blood. An ancient part of me is suddenly awakened and I know it’s Annalise’s blood without having to see it. I hastily check to make sure she isn’t harmed, not that a pinprick doesn’t cause me pain enough. Seeing no visible wound, my eyes turn to Miriam. I’m horrified by the way Damien grasps her by her hair and throws her from the room.
As angry as I am, and as much as I wish I could defend her, I can’t imagine what I’d do if it had been Annalise. I can’t handle any more of this right now.
I retreat into my beast heart once again.
Li
I can barely contain my jealousy. My usual calm giving way to wave after wave of envy as I watch Ero holding Annalise close as she rests.
Moments like this, I wish I wasn’t so given over to gentlemanly behavior or I’d be the one in Ero’s stead, holding her, reassuring her that everything will be okay, even if it’s not true. I decide to content myself with the fact that she’s near, imagining all the things I’d do to make her mine if I could.
No, I have to be resolute. Letting the bond get any stronger will put Annalise in very imminent danger. But, on the other hand, if we try and fail to break Damien’s spell, there’s a very real chance that not only will we die, but Annalise will be in a far more perilous situation than what mere death brings. What exactly that situation may be, I’d rather not know. I have to put her first.
I turn, curling up so I face away from Annalise, my thoughts returning to the ones before. The boys who never grew into men, the shifters who weren’t strong enough to survive the torture. There were many before us, boys who caved and tried to break the curse. Some made it out alive, only to be found dead a few days later. I don’t even know how long I’ve been trapped like this anymore…
The warmth at my back is gone, and I lift my head to find Annalise being preened by Mariam. A weight from my neck lifts as I realize the handler has switched out our heavy chains. It’s only now that I smell it. Iron. I’d have thought it was our chains but they were just removed. I take in another lungful, this scent I know. Blood.
A low growl escapes my chest as Damien strides across the room. The next few moments are a blur of violence, my eyes never leaving Annalise.
This time, we’re taken with them to dine in the Great Hall, and a good thing too. If she’d left us behind, I’d probably have done something I’d regret later.
The evening passes slowly as I am called out again and again to help pacify and otherwise charm our guests into complacency. The one saving grace of the evening are words directed at Annalise. I look into her eyes and try to make her feel me. My treasure. The words are mine. Stolen. And I realize just how much I don’t want him to be my mouthpiece. I place myself somewhere between human and beast and spend the rest of the evening trying not to think.
Twelve
Annalise
I breathe a sigh of relief as I step into my room, the door shut and locked behind me. The leopards have once again been leashed to the wall, food and water placed on the floor beside them, but they haven’t touched it.
Their heads rest against their paws as they seem to be hovering on the edge of sleep. I’m more than a little surprised at their demeanor and slowly move to sit with them. As I near them, they raise their heads to look at me, and I can’t help but feel they want me near them as much as I want to be with them.
I pull the cap and pins from my head and toss them on the floor, releasing my hair from their braids. My hair cascades down my back and relief floods over me. I run my hands through my hair and my scalp tingles with pleasure. I tug at the laces of my dress and quickly slip the gown down over my shoulders, just managing to grab the slip of paper Rosa gave me before allowing the silken material to glide to the floor. I step out of it and walk to my wardrobe. The cool evening air sends shivers over me as I pull out a nightgown and slip it over my head before turning back to the leopards.
Sapphire-eyes and emerald-eyes are watching me in a way I’d be ashamed of if they weren’t beasts. The amethyst-eyed leopard has turned his back to me and almost sounds like he is grumbling.
Something about their eyes tugs once again at the back of my mind, this time I am able to hold onto the thought for a moment before it is pulled away once again. Their eyes are eerily similar to Damien’s whenever his mood changes for the better. I can’t understand it, but then again, I can’t understand anything that’s been going on these days.
I step into their midst and they welcome me. One moves to allow me to lean against his soft side while another curls up beside me.
A few minutes of silence pass, and I begin to stroke the blue-eyed leopard’s head as he lays it in my lap. He’s making the odd vibrating purr I’ve heard before. I open my other hand to reveal the slip of paper, re-reading the words again and again.
It doesn’t take long for me to drift off, the soothing words and the sounds of the leopards finally lulling me to sleep as I lie tucked among their warm, soft bodies.
Here, I feel safe.
That night I once again dream that the leopards are not beasts, but men. The most beautiful men I’ve ever seen. Far outshining Damien’s dark beauty. Their bodies hard and powerful and even more massive than my betrothed.
I dream that I am resting among them, my head propped against the broad, smooth chest of a man whose long black hair, unlike Damien’s black tresses, shines in the moonlight. He plays gently with my hair as I watch him. His features strong and masculine, golden skin rippling as the muscles below shift with each movement. The man’s eyes open and he looks down at me. His almond-shaped eyes glittering like amethysts in sunlight.
My eyes shift as I feel movement in my lap and I am met with sapphire eyes peering up at me through strands of brilliantly white blonde hair strewn across his face. His skin is almost as white as his hair, his muscled torso just as gloriously shaped as the others.
I turn my eyes to the third, lying beside me, his head propped up as he grins mischievously at me. His red hair twists and turns messily every which way from his head, not detracting at all from his beauty. His emerald eyes flash, making the freckles on his face and muscular body stand out even more.
My body sings for them, and as my eyes follow the curves of their bodies, I suddenly realize they’re stark naked and I freeze. My eyes wander lower in curiosity and desire.
But, before my eyes can find their marks, I’m asleep, but my body aches for them.
Grey light is pouring through my windows as I open my eyes to see a key turning in the lock. I am more than a little unw
illing to have been pulled from my dream, although exceedingly embarrassed to think that I had personified my pets in the way that I had.
Miriam rushes to my side and pulls me to my feet. Her face is swollen, a nasty bruise forming around her eye. Taking a dress from my wardrobe she quickly dresses me in it. The fabric is much thicker, though no less ornate than the day before. Miriam makes quick work of my hair, though she slows considerably when it comes time to pin my cap in place. As she finishes, she takes my dress from the night before and removes herself from my room as quickly as she had come. The door is once again shut and locked behind her.
I sigh as I realize this is what I have to look forward to every day, rushed to dress at first morning’s light only to then wait for my betrothed to release me from my prison. I tuck the slip of paper still in my hand from the night before between my breasts as I resign myself to waiting.
A scraping at my door suddenly draws my attention and I tense as I hear a key turn in the lock. The door swings open. It’s my father’s messenger.
“My Lady, please, hurry,” he says, his breath catching. “The king has requested you in his chambers. I fear something might be wrong.”
In an instant, I’m bolting down the halls as fast as my skirts will let me, heading toward my father’s wing. I am unsure if the rising pit in my stomach is worry for his health or dread over what might come of me if he takes a turn for the worse.
Reaching the doors to the king’s chambers, I fling them open without waiting for the guards to announce me.
Father is lying in bed, his eyes closed. He doesn’t move a muscle even as I burst through the doors.