“Em, Alinder: come quickly!” I called out.
They rushed out of the cottage, Lila trailing them curiously.
“Hurry, help me get him on the horse,” I said, grabbing an arm. Em grabbed the other arm, Alinder grabbed his legs, and the three of us managed to drape him over the beast.
“What happened?” Em breathed out once I’d mounted the horse behind him.
I shook my head. “I’m not sure, but I can’t let him die.”
Turning to Alinder, I said. “Take my sisters back into the mouth of the tunnel. With Bastian and I gone, I can’t guarantee everyone’s safety, and the Regime may come for you.”
Alinder nodded assuredly past the fear in his eyes.
I turned the horse towards the Black Forest, and took off, riding as fast as I dared.
Chapter 34
The Terrible Enchantment
BASTIAN
W hen I opened my eyes, the world around me was spinning. I thought I could make out the stone walls of my castle, spattered with brown and blue color. It can’t be…
But when I focused on the face in front of me, I saw Belle, and the world settled.
“Bastian?” she asked, hopeful.
I grinned at her, though I’m not sure my lips quite moved that way. A single tear escaped down her cheek as she threw her arms around me. I went to put my arms around her in return, but then she sat up again and slapped me on the arm.
“What was that for?” I groaned, my voice grating against my throat like it was made of sandpaper.
“For almost dying again,” she told me as her cheeks turned pink.
I reached for her, but winced at the pain in my side. Concern colored her features, and her eyes searched my face, my neck, my chest. Then she stopped at my side, where I’d been bleeding since the beginning of the fight with the Regime soldiers. It had stung only a little up until now, but it didn’t take long for it to feel like I was being bitten there by hundreds of red fire ants.
“You’re hurt,” she murmured, reaching for the tear in my shirt, and she started to pull and rip at it.
I watched her work at the threads to get to the wound, and was struck again by her beauty. Not just the obviousness of her, but the way her cheeks flushed when she looked at me, her overwhelming need to protect her sisters, the way her eyes would grow fierce when she told me she loved me. As if I needed to be convinced of it when it had saved my life.
After trying to tear at the fabric with little success, she looked up to see that I was grinning at her. “This would be a lot easier if I didn’t have a shirt on,” I told her. “All you need to do is ask.”
She shot me a look, but I could see that she was trying not to smile.
Chuckling, I tried to pull my shirt over my head, but the pain at my side screamed that that wasn’t an option. Instead, I undid the buttons before tossing it to the floor, hearing a quiet gasp escape her lips once it was gone. Her gaze strayed to the parts of me that had been hidden under all the fur, until finally landing on the wound again.
“It doesn’t look too bad,” Belle told me as she touched the skin around it gently. “I don’t see any broken bones, and the gash is more like a deep scratch.” She grabbed up the shirt and tore it apart further, making strips out of it before tying one around my entire torso that was just thick enough to cover the gash. I hissed in pain when she placed the cloth over it, and she smiled apologetically without meeting my gaze.
When she was done, we sat there for a moment, not quite looking at each other. God, I wanted to touch her—I wanted to touch her so badly it was physically painful. Now that we weren’t in immediate danger, there were so many things I wanted to…
She seemed to have a sudden thought, because she finally looked at me and asked, “You don’t have your magic anymore, do you?”
I shook my head, strangely disappointed. “I know that the only reason I had the magic in the first place was because of the curse. And now that I’m not cursed anymore, it makes sense that it’s gone.” I looked down at my hands. “But it still feels so strange. I almost miss it.”
But losing my magic made me think about the witch that had cursed me, about Sophie.
Sophie.
I still couldn’t believe that, all that time, the witch had been right under my nose, impersonating someone I loved. I’d forgiven the fairy for Belle’s sake, but I wasn’t sure I was really ready to yet. I knew having the fairy’s real name would come in handy one day; I might’ve been a changed man, but I wasn’t stupid.
“What happened?” I asked Belle.
Belle’s voice trembled when she answered, “Sophie said that you’d become too dependent on the magic and—”
“Sophie?” I cut her off.
She looked surprised. “Oh,” she breathed out. “I’m sorry Bastian, I had no other choice. For all I knew, you were dying, and so I called her by her real name and she told me how to make you better.”
“And you trusted her!” I roared, an unchecked anger rising in me.
Belle sat up straighter. “I didn’t have any other choice; I wasn’t going to let you die.”
Huffing, I tried to calm down. You’d have done the same thing for her, no matter how much you hate Sophie, I told myself. I sighed.
“I’m sorry, you’re right.” I took her hand in mine, still marveling at the fact that I could touch her skin with my own. “How did you heal me?”
“It was the roses,” she told me, her shoulders relaxing. “Even though you lost your magic, they still hold it within them. In the petals, the leaves, the roots. Soph—she said that you’ll have to ingest them every day until we can ween you off. It’s the only way.”
I shook my head. “I hate this. Even when I think the curse is gone, it keeps coming back.”
Belle didn’t answer at first, but instead smiled, placing her hand on my cheek.
“We’ll get through this,” she said finally. “All of this, together.”
I placed my hand over hers, and I believed her.
Chapter 35
Her Long-Loved Prince
BELLE
B astian gave me a lopsided grin, and I stopped breathing for a second. Not long ago, those teeth had been sharp, jutting fangs, but now they were perfectly straight.
Trying to smile in return, my legs wobbled underneath me from exhaustion and I moved to sit fully on the bed, Bastian still holding my hands. The last few days were finally catching up to me, and while I felt like I could sleep for the next week, I also thought that if I closed my eyes, I’d wake up and all of this would have been a dream.
Soon, we’d have to head back towards the cottage to bring my sisters and Alinder to the safety of the castle. But, for now, it was all I could do to keep my eyes from closing.
Bastian dropped my hands, threading them through his hair and staring down at himself, a small smile on his lips, and I suddenly felt cold.
I looked at him again—really looked at him. He was handsome and so different now, sitting an arm’s length away from me. Without a shirt to cover him up, my cheeks heated, remembering our kiss at the cottage. I’d never done something like that before: being bold enough to take what I wanted. Now, I couldn’t help wondering if he felt the same way.
I folded my hands in my lap and stared at them. I felt foolish even thinking it, but if I’d known that he looked like this underneath his curse, I would’ve never believed that he could love me. I’d told him my scars didn’t define me, but they hadn’t mattered so much until now. I was much more vain than I’d believed I could be, but some part of me thought I wasn’t deserving of his love. The only people in my life who had truly loved were my sisters and my mother, who had to love me unconditionally because we were blood.
Bastian had no such obligation.
The sheets shifted as he moved close to me again, but I didn’t look up.
“Belle?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I replied as I wiped away a traitorous tear, my palm still caked i
n dried blood.
“I’ve been a Beast for the past five years,” he said, “and still I can tell that you’re keeping something from me.”
I managed a small breath of a laugh, reaching towards him without taking my eyes off my legs. But I dropped my hand just as quickly.
“I thought you’d like me better this way,” he said with an odd lilt to his voice.
That made me look up at him. Impossible sadness filled his gaze.
“It never mattered to me what you looked like, Bastian,” I promised him, confused. “I loved you even when you were the Beast. You’re kind and smart and a good man.”
He placed a hand over mine and a tinge of warmth flooded me. “Then what is it?”
In answer, I pulled my hand from his to touch my cheek, tracing the indents of the silver scars there, and the ones on my neck, avoiding the fresh wound made by Thomas. My fingers shook as more tears spilled, unwarranted, and I tried to compose myself.
“All I can think about,” I started, “is that you’ll see yourself as you were before and won’t...want me anymore.”
He was quiet for a moment, before he was suddenly very close to me, his nearness undoing any sense I had left. He touched my scars gently and I shivered.
“Your scars make you more beautiful to me,” he said, and I bit my lip. “They’re a part of who you are. And I love you, Belle. Every part of you.” He turned my head gently so that I had look at him. His blue eyes pierced mine. “Nothing will ever change that.”
A shuddering breath left me at his words. Without thinking, I reached for him and my lips crushed against his, knocking us backwards onto the bed. His lips were frozen in surprise for a moment before they grew soft and supple, moving against mine like we’d done this a thousand times, his arms encasing my body.
Oh, I sighed, my lungs feeling like the breath had been stolen from them.
It took me a moment to realize that I was on top of Bastian on his bed, but I was too lost in him to care.
Holding me close, he spun us so that I was under him. His lips separated from my mouth, gently kissing every inch of my scarred cheek with a tender, scorching heat, before moving to my neck, the feel of him consuming me. I made a small whimpering sound when his lips brushed my collarbone and his hands swept along the bare skin just above my waist, where my tunic had ridden up.
His lips captured mine again, one of his hands slowly, softly moving up towards my rib cage where the scars continued. My back arched up against him involuntarily, and I could hear his breathing hitch—his hands were shaking slightly when he cupped my cheek. He flicked his tongue against my lips and I opened my mouth to him, his tongue sweeping tenderly to meet mine.
He groaned against my lips when my hands caressed down his back, feeling the indents of his own scars there. I touched the skin above his pants, before I slipped my fingertips just beneath the band and dug into his skin. His other hand, which was still under my shirt, went to the middle of my bare back, holding me there, pressing me to him so that my chest brushed against his—and I gasped in pain.
He eased off of me quickly, kneeling on the bed. “Did I hurt you?”
I didn’t answer as an ache I couldn’t place shot all along my body, coming from my chest. I sat up and turned away from him. “I think it might just be a bruise,” I said quietly. I pulled down the front collar of my tunic to see what had stung so badly…
“What the hell,” I managed. Carved in red and black ink, on the skin just above my heart, was a briar rose in bloom, the black thorny stem reaching from where the petals sat over my heart, curling down between my breasts where it stopped.
“Have you always had that?” Bastian asked curiously.
“No,” I told him, completely bewildered. Who could’ve done this? Sophie maybe?
He was silent for a moment. “Actually, I like it.”
I rolled my eyes.
“How…” he began, looking thoughtful until anger marred his face.
“This is the witch’s work,” Bastian said through his teeth, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around his waist, hoping to diffuse his anger.
“It’s not that bad. Really,” I said. And it wasn’t. In fact, it almost made sense. Maybe it was to remind Bastian of who’d broken the curse for him, and to remind me of the same. Maybe it was to remind us both that black magic always left a mark. “You said you like it?”
A deep longing lingered in his gaze when he looked back at me. “Oh yes.”
I played with the hairs at the back of his neck. “Then it can’t be that bad.”
He smiled, bringing his lips down on mine. I brought my hands from where they’d been attached to his waist to trace up his back, pressing him to me again—and he growled, breaking off the kiss.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. But something I hadn’t noticed before on Bastian caught my eye, and I saw that he had a mark over his heart as well, the black ink sitting on top of the silver scars there. It was in the same place as mine, but instead of a rose, it was an intricate design of a wolf howling, with black swirls and dots lining the inside of the creature’s shape.
I laughed. “At least she has a sense of humor.”
When Bastian didn’t answer, I looked up to see that he was seething. “Hasn’t she done enough to me?”
I touched his face, and his features barely softened. “If it’s any consolation, I like yours.”
After a moment, he shook his head and chuckled, and I looked into his eyes as he cupped my face. The anger left his gaze almost as soon as it had come.
“This—being able to touch you the way I want to—it will never get old,” he told me, his thumb brushing against my lips. My heart thundered wonderfully in my chest
Staring at me for a moment longer, he spoke again, “I have something I need to tell you.”
All I could do was nod as he stood from the bed and went over to the armoire. “Let me put a shirt on first.”
“That’s not really necessary,” I said, and he snorted a laugh as he pulled a long-sleeve tunic from an open drawer and dropped it over his head. It was creased and wrinkled; I imagined this was the first time he’d taken it out in five years. But it didn’t matter. Bastian would look good in a grain sack.
“Nevertheless,” he said, his entire body shuddering, “it’s probably a good idea.”
“Cold?” I wondered, trying to hide a grin.
His hand cupped the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s strange: without my fur, I find I’m freezing all the time now.”
“You’ll just have to learn to live without fur like the rest of us.”
He chuckled, and I was growing used to the lightness of his voice now that he was no longer the Beast. “It was a hard thing to imagine not long ago.”
Stepping towards me, he took my hand in his. “Belle, I…” he laughed softly. “I used to be so much better at this.”
“Bastian…” I breathed his name, not thinking of anything else to say.
He took a deep breath before he spoke again, but I felt like I could barely breathe at all.
“From the moment I first saw you in the Black Forest, hunting pheasants and deer for you and your sisters, I wanted to know you better.”
“Wait,” I said, trying to wrap my head around his words, “you were watching me?”
Bastian’s cheeks heated, and he ran his fingers through his hair as he replied, “Yes.”
I fought back a smile because, while I felt sort of violated from not knowing he’d been watching me, it didn’t stop me from loving him. “I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.”
He turned serious, but hope lingered in his gaze. “I don’t expect anything from you, Belle. My life won’t be easy after today now that I have a kingdom to rule, and I’d be a fool to think you’d consider being with me after all I’ve put you through.”
Pausing, Bastian went to his knees beside the bed, and I leaned towards him. “But I promise you that I’ll always be by your side and love you every day of my life,
if you’ll allow me to, as my father did for my mother.”
I couldn’t help smiling, as if the expression were permanent. He was so unsure of himself and my feelings for him, just as I had been about his feelings for me. He’d more than proved that he loved me, and I’d do everything I could to convince him that I’d never loved anyone more than I loved him.
I kneeled on the floor beside him, placing both hands on his chest and tipping my head up to place a lingering kiss on his lips.
“You have my heart, Bastian,” I said simply. “It’s never belonged to anyone else, and it never will.”
He closed his eyes, and I wondered if he was thinking about what it would be like for me to be here all the time with him. And when he opened his eyes again, I had hope that he liked that idea very much.
“Let’s go get your sisters and Alinder.”
Epilogue
With the Utmost Splendor
BELLE
A week later, we had father’s funeral.
Upon hearing of Thomas’ death, the Regime soldiers in Briar were called back by the Emperor, and we hadn’t seen another black uniform in the village since. And as no one was there to enforce Regime laws, they no longer had a hold over the town. It didn’t take long for people to recall what it had been like before the Regime had taken over our quiet town; they remembered the things they’d once enjoyed doing that they hadn’t been able to for so long. You could see it in the way everyone greeted each other, that there was a weight lifted off our shoulders.
They also remembered Bastian, their king, not that his curse had been lifted.
That day, we’d found Alinder and my sisters hidden in the entrance to the passageway, completely unharmed, if not a little dirty. And we didn’t need a horse this time to lead them back to castle, where they would be safe. Apparently, when the Beast’s curse had been lifted, the forest wolves had disappeared, allowing us safe passage. The trees, too, had lost their thorns and their darkness. I wondered how much those things had been a very real manifestation of Bastian’s fears, taking the shape of the dark magic he’d come to possess.
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