by Piper Rayne
A wild man, beast of the Fair Forest, but human alone, and mortal.
Not cursed, but blessed with love.
I walked over to her, holding her hands in mine; Rosaline stared at Mortas with horror on her face, watching the roots pull him under the ground, and I reached forward, holding her chin, tilting her face toward mine.
“My love,” I whispered, my chest warming with every breath I took in—her scent overwhelmed me, though I no longer wanted to chase her and attack.
I wanted to…
But before our lips met in a tender kiss, Rosaline’s eyes widened. She glanced beyond me, inhaling. “Look,” she gasped.
Turning my head, I saw at once what she was witnessing—
The snow.
It was melting.
Everywhere that was ice and white and frozen snow… The sun beamed down, and the green of a springtime forest spread across the landscape. Leaves grew on the trees, bees buzzed in the yellow blossoms of the honeysuckle. Streams trickled, the croaking of frogs intertwining their melodies with the gentle spring breeze that blew through the canopy.
Spring was back.
The forest, restored.
And the only thing that remained of Mortas was his ring, gold with rubies inlaid in the band. I picked it up and hurled it into the pond, letting it sink to the mossy depths. The forest would keep it for us. The forest would keep Mortas from ever returning.
We’d done it.
We’d stabilized the magic.
We’d returned Mortas’s hoarded enchantment to its source.
We’d protected the forest, and now, as long as we were here to guard the trees from the pillaging of the villagers, as well as keep an eye on any future imbalances in the magical ecosystem, the forest would thrive.
It should have been a happy moment, a joyous one.
But when I turned back to kiss my Rosaline at last, she was pale, holding her head with both hands, staring down at the forest floor.
“Rosaline?” I hunched over to meet her eyes, searching for the cause of her ailment. “What is it?”
“I feel so dizzy,” she murmured, and took a seat in the dirt. “Everything is spinning. I think I need to lie down.”
Even as she said it, she stretched her body out, horizontal, closing her eyes; when I bent down to pick her up, ready to carry her back to the hut so she could rest properly, in our nest of blankets and pillows, she shook her head.
“No,” she whispered, clinging to my neck. “Not … not there. There.” She pointed, and I followed her finger to the silver birch tree.
I didn’t understand—but the forest seemed to push me along to the tree, and so I carried her there, making a little bed of pine needles to keep her comfortable, and as soon as Rosaline was beneath the silver birch tree, she snuggled down into her makeshift bed and fell asleep.
I kept watch over her as she slept, occasionally feeling her forehead, checking her breathing, watching for any signs that I might be able to help—
My only love, and she had been willing to give her life to save mine.
And I would sit by her side until she awoke from whatever ailed her, no matter how long it took.
Chapter Twenty-five
ROSALINE
My entire body ached, head to toe.
My head spun, even with my eyes closed—as if I was being hurled around and around in circles.
I could feel the forest around me growing, changing, shifting.
Mortas had restored the balance—it was amazing how much of the magic he had siphoned over the years. He’d hoarded it, and the forest had suffered because of his greed.
But his death had fixed everything—so then why did I still feel as if something was off-kilter?
Why were my dreams full of strange images, heavy feelings, visions of a child, blond as sunshine, a crown of ivy worn in its hair as it ran through the streams of the Fair Forest, happy as a lark?
Gawen and I were safe.
His curse was lifted—the man who I had fallen in love with was back, and now we could be together—even as I slept, I could feel his hand stroking my hair, rubbing my arms, touching the small of my back just to assure me of his presence.
Gawen had a piece of the forest magic imbued in him as a child, and another piece of the forest magic had grown inside me as a baby in my mother’s stomach—those pieces of magic called to each other now, drawing us together.
We were fated to be together, Gawen and I—fated to find one another. Even if Mortas hadn’t chosen me as a virgin sacrifice to the Beast of the Fair Forest, I knew I would have found my way into the woods.
I would have found my way to him.
But there was something else that kept me asleep now, a magic brewing within me that I couldn’t explain—the forest restored my body as it turned from winter to spring, but there was something else happening within me.
And when the moon was high and full above the canopy of the woods, and owls flapped in the purple night, I woke up.
Gawen snoozed beside me, leaning up against the trunk of the birch tree, which looked even more silvery in the moonlight. I watched him for a moment, the peace in his face—it had been so difficult to see him with the curse on his body, the pain and the guilt that overcame him every time the beast tried to take hold of his mind.
But now he was free.
We both were.
And the birch tree whispered to me what to do to make me whole again.
I peeled off a piece of the bark, which broke away from the tree in a small strip, easily, as if the tree was giving it to me. Using a cup from my bag, I ground up the bark and added pond water to the mixture. Setting it in the moonlight, I let it steep, like a strange brew of tea, and when I sipped it, it was bitter, gritty on my tongue—
But I could take a deep breath.
I could stand up without the world spinning around me.
I could think clearly now.
And when Gawen awoke, walked to where I was, and took me in his arms, I could kiss him, with all of me, with all the love I had for him, and all my old desires for him, my lust, my need—it all surfaced at once.
“Am I going to hurt you?” Gawen asked gently as I pulled him down to the forest floor.
I shook my head. I needed it—I needed his touch, needed his body against mine—
I needed his kiss.
I closed the distance between us, his mouth soft on mine, almost testing my fragility with his lips—
And I pressed into him harder, making my kiss rough, just to show him that I was fine, more than fine—I was more alive than I had ever been. Whatever the forest and the moonlight had infused into my bark tea, it had filled me with strength and given me a single-minded purpose—to join bodies with Gawen, to celebrate our union here under the trees.
Gawen moaned as I opened his mouth with my tongue, and I ran my hands over his rounded shoulders, his taut and muscular back. God, he was so sexy, and my body wanted him—
But before I could lean him back and undress him, Gawen lifted me up like I weighed nothing, his mouth finding the spot where my collarbone met my neck, and he kissed me there, fiercely, his teeth grazing my skin.
I pulled off my shirt and removed Gawen’s, and my breasts were flat against his chest.
“You make me so hard,” Gawen whispered against my skin, sending chills all over my body. “Please, Rosaline… Let me worship you in my arms.”
A wet twist between my legs made me gasp. “Yes,” I answered him. “Yes, please.”
Our pants were taken off, and Gawen positioned himself against the trunk of the tree. He played with my breasts for a moment, my nipples pebbling as he licked them with his tongue, and I arched my back, giving into the pleasure.
Every day, every night… it would be just like this forever.
When I couldn’t take it anymore, I spread my legs and lowered myself down onto his hardened cock—and heat and pleasure shot through my body.
I wrapped my legs around his hips and gr
inded myself lower until he completely filled me up—
In his beastly form, Gawen’s cock had been almost too long, making our intercourse on the edge of painful. Now, his length and girth were the perfect size to bring me to a shuddering, dripping finish.
Gawen tugged on my hair, tilting my head so he could kiss me again. He devoured me with groans, his tongue moving in and out of my mouth, his teeth clicking against mine, a snarl in his chest.
He kept one hand buried in my hair, holding my face steady, right beside his, and his other hand wrapped around my ass, guiding me as I moved up and down, up and down, on top of his cock.
And then he was climaxing, roaring to a finish, an intense expression on his face. He held me so tightly, and I could feel the tension drain from his body as he finished inside of me, and the kiss that followed was sweeter and full of more passion, more emotion than I’d ever experienced.
It was as if the magic of the forest had sealed us together, making our bond untouchable.
“Rosaline,” Gawen murmured, and he held my face so he could look deep into my eyes. I peered back in his, those golden tones, the moonlight reflecting his adoration. “Forever I love you.”
“Forever I love you,” I replied, and leaned my head against his shoulder.
I lay like this for some time, my eyes fluttering, and somewhere inside, I could sense the forest, closing off the borders, sealing the places where the protective spells had worn off.
The villagers wouldn’t be able to enter the Fair Forest now, and we wouldn’t be able to leave, not without the beastly curse falling on our heads.
But I knew that we would never want to leave.
This forest was our home, and for as long as we lived, we would protect its trees.
The last thing I saw before I fell asleep in the safety of my lover’s arms was another vision.
A flash of that child, strolling through the forest holding the hands of his parents—a father, tall and muscular, with the long hair of a wild man, and a mother, sharp emerald eyes and a look of absolute bliss on her face as she stepped through a stream.
A vision of the future, I thought with a faint smile on my face.
A vision of hope, a vision of love.
A vision of a chain of future forest protectors, all of them magical, all of them ours.
Chapter Twenty-six
GAWEN
Something was in the woods.
I could feel it—a shift in the wind, blowing through the autumn leaves. A nearby fox darted through the golden underbrush as if hurrying. The very soil itself seemed to whisper to me—it was time, it was time.
The day I’d waited for.
Nine long months, and it was finally time.
I pushed my knife into its hilt in my boot and stood to my full height. I’d been out gathering herbs, replenishing the stocks back at the hut, drying them for the upcoming winter. I’d made a new coat for myself this year, and a fur wrap for Rosaline who, bless her, was far too rotund to be able to use anything but a hide to keep her and her full belly warm.
I’d also made a miniature-sized coat, something small enough to keep a pint-sized baby safe through the snow.
We didn’t know what to expect—a boy or a girl— but we knew that whoever it was would be the heir to a great task.
The task of keeping this forest alive and healthy.
I shifted into my beast form and made my way to the center of the woods. I’d had a chance to give up the curse forever or keep it for select moments when it was more convenient for me to travel as a creature, and since I was twice as fast when I was in this animal form, I used it quite often these days.
Rosaline had had one false alarm after another. Her body would go into contractions, and then subside after a long soak in a bath or a nap, and she’d be back to her usual tasks the next day.
Back to preparing the laundry for our offspring, back to walking the borders, checking for gaps in our protection spells, back to waiting and watching and wondering.
But the forest whispered to me that this was not a false alarm; it was time.
Time to meet the little one, the evidence of my love for Rosaline.
Time to meet the baby that our magic had created.
I rushed through the trees, running through the calculations in my mind again.
If the child was born today, this week, we would nestle into the hut for the winter with more than enough food and supplies. It would be sitting up and babbling by the time spring buds flowered on the trees. By this time next year, it would be able to toddle along on its own, playing in the piles of crunchy fallen leaves, and then, someday, when it was old enough, Rosaline and I would teach it the sacred rituals of magic so that it too would grow up knowing how to create spells and heal the trees.
But when I raced into our yard, I did not find Rosaline in the throes of labor, ready to push. I found her calmly sitting on the bench outside the hut, watching a fire, a quilt wrapped around her shoulders, a tired but happy smile on her face.
She started when she saw me, and the smile stretched to her eyes. She held out her hand, as if she was showing a wild animal that she was safe to approach, and I shifted out of my beastly form as I walked to her side.
“My love,” she breathed. She kissed me deeply, then pulled back, her face twisting into a grimace as her entire body tensed.
My heart leapt into my throat. I watched her through the contraction, then moved a strand of her hair away from her forehead when it ended. “What can I do? How can I … what should I do?”
The prospect of my wife, my beloved, having a baby made me so unnerved, so excited and yet utterly frantic… I stood and ran my hands through my hair, grabbed a pitcher of water, and brought it to her without thinking.
With a gentle chuckle, Rosaline sipped the water and put her hand on my cheek. “It’ll be all right,” she said. “Actually, it’ll get much worse than this, but I can do it. I’ve survived much worse things.”
I growled at the thought of my Rosaline enduring such pain, but she was strong.
The strongest creature I knew.
“And then it will be here,” I murmured, running my hand along the belly where my child was preparing to emerge into the world.
“She,” Rosaline whispered, and her eyes met mine, brimming with tears. “I’m sorry, I read the bones weeks ago. I just wanted to know.”
“A girl,” I repeated. My own eyes went misty. A little girl.
A daughter.
I was so happy, it overflowed from me in hot tears as I kissed Rosaline’s hands. “What can I do, my love? Give me a task.”
“You can sit here beside me and watch the sunset,” came Rosaline’s instructions, and so after I bundled the herbs in the window to dry, I sat beside my wife on the bench, and held her as the fire grew bright against the darkening sky.
“The borders are sealed,” I assured her after we’d been chatting for a while about the state of the woods. “They will hold until spring, so we’ll be safe.” I’d meant to tell her this as an assurance, but she frowned, her palm pressing into her belly as she waited out a contraction.
“I was thinking,” she said when she had her breath again, “that maybe someday we will let the border spells die out.”
When I glanced at her with some surprise and alarm, she blinked, thinking.
“As a child, I always wanted to see the Fair Forest, and now that I know how beautiful it is, I think it’s only right that we let other villagers partake of its goodness.” She gestured at the trees around us. “The forest is thriving. It will welcome the newcomers. It can stand to have a few of its trees taken for firewood. It can stand to have some of its creatures hunted for game. Someday, the village and the forest could have a bond that could protect them both—if we decide to allow it.”
I paused, reflecting on this idea. Mortas had kept the forest closed for his own selfish gain, but Rosaline was right. The best way to keep the forest alive for centuries and centuries was to create a whol
e village of protectors, a world of people who learned to love the beauty of the woods and to feel like it was home to them as well.
“But maybe,” Rosaline added, “we wait a generation or two. Just to make sure.” But she didn’t have time to finish her sentence. Another contraction surged through her, this one strong enough to require all her concentration, and I held her, kissed her hair, and awaited the arrival of my child—my daughter.
This forest, my home, which had given me my family, and someday, we would give it to the rest of the world.
But for now, it was just big enough to house the love I had for Rosaline, my queen of the forest, my wife.
My wild woman.
Thank you for reading. We hope you enjoyed The Beast’s Captive Bride. If you’d like to learn more about books by Evie Wilde please visit our website.
Rescuing Royce
By Debra Elise
Rescuing Royce
Royce Kincaid - He’s a SWAT team member who puts the “hot” in Hot Cop. He’s overprotective of those in his circle and known for a guaranteed good time while avoiding anything long-term.
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Amber Wyatt - She’s an office manager who refuses to settle for just anyone, but her steamy thoughts centering on her best friend Reese’s twin brother have her bothered in more ways than one.
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Will the unexpected events on the night she’s ready to approach Royce keep them apart? Or will Amber find her way into the arms of the only man she’s convinced can give her everything she’s wanted and more?
Copyright © 2020 by Debra Elise
Editing: Dragonfly Media Ink
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