by M. J. Haag
The beast grunted in response. I felt him lean in to breathe the scented oil still clinging to my hair.
“What is your next provision?”
“I will ignore any command for my silence.”
He didn’t deny my provision.
“And the final?” he asked, instead.
“You may not touch me without permission.”
His growl started low and grew in fury.
“Unacceptable,” he roared. He fisted my hair and carefully pulled me against him so the fur from his jaw abraded my ear. “Why even keep you, then?”
I licked my lips.
“That’s something I have been asking myself for many weeks. You’ve asked me so many times and offered so many things. Each time, I’ve said no. If you can’t accept my terms, you will kill my father, I’m sure. Your temper will see to that. But you will lose any future chance of coercing an agreement from me. That I promise you.”
He grew completely silent. I held still, waiting for his reply. Faintly, I heard Blye’s continued sobs though Bryn tried to hush her, no doubt trying to hear what we said.
“A year,” he growled. “I will accept your provisions for a year.”
“No,” I countered. “My silence cannot be guaranteed, and I will not lose my family. As long as I’m with you, you will listen to me and let me leave one day a week. In return for your gracious benevolence, I agree to reduce the touching restriction to six months.” I had to raise my voice slightly so he could hear me over his own cursing.
Again, he stopped his rage. He didn’t leave me waiting for long.
“One week.”
I snorted.
“One month. That is my final offer.”
“Agreed,” he said, triumphantly.
“I would like to say good-bye before you start commanding me, sir,” I spoke in a rush.
His fist released my hair.
“Make it quick.”
Obediently, I rushed from the mist just as the vines released Father and my sisters. I went to Father first and hugged him tightly.
“I will see you in four days,” I whispered to him.
“Don’t do this, Benella,” he said fiercely, hugging me.
“I’ll be fine and well fed here.” Pulling back, I caught the hurt look in his eyes and quickly tugged the bag from my shoulders. “Here. I’ll try to find some way to help.”
I turned toward my sisters.
“Take care of him.” There was a threat in my tone that I hadn’t meant to let slip. “And yourselves,” I added more calmly.
Something tugged at my foot, and I lifted my skirt enough to see a vine.
“I have to go.”
Turning, I walked into the mist, away from my family.
Authors Note
Wait! Don’t leave yet! :)
First, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed Depravity, part 1 of the Beastly Tales. Your support keeps me writing, so please consider letting others know about this story by leaving a review on Goodreads or any of the retailer sites where this title is available.
Second, keep reading for an excerpt of Deceit, part 2.
Happy reading!
Melissa
Sneak peek of
Deceit
Coming July 2015
Bryn’s muffled sniffles faded as I stepped into the mists. I didn’t go far before I hesitated. I could see the hand I held before me but nothing beyond that. Yet, visibility wasn’t why I’d stopped. Fear held me in place.
The beast had always kept everyone at bay. Why had that changed? And, why with me? Knowing why he’d gone to such lengths to trap me within the estate might have assured me. Then again, perhaps his reasons were something to fear.
The beast’s tail thumped against my stomach, a reminder of the bargain I’d made. To save my father, I had no choice but to clasp the tail and allow him to lead me through the mist. Walking away from my family was difficult, but walking toward my unknown future was harder.
Instead of leading me to the overgrown yard just outside of the kitchen, he turned slightly east. It wasn’t long before gravel crunched under my feet. I frowned at the sound and at the sudden disappearance of his tail.
“Go where you wish within the boundaries of the estate. Do as you please, with the exception of leaving,” he said, as he moved behind me.
The mist retreated with him and revealed a grand entrance to the manor that he so zealously protected. Three steps laid with large slabs of natural grey stone led up to a sheltered court. Great columns of the same stone supported a roof to protect guests who might arrive during inclement weather.
The claw-ravaged, large double doors stood open in invitation. Yet, instead of welcome, their gaping maw conveyed an eerie sense of desolation. With reluctance, I climbed the steps and entered the beast’s home.
For the first time, I saw the interior of the manor clearly. Aged décor, perfectly preserved from the ravages of time, yet marred by the beast’s anger and negligence, drew my curious gaze. Did he truly only need a maid?
“Should I clean, then?” I asked, knowing he still lingered behind me.
“Do as you please,” he said irritably.
Taking him at his word, I went from room to room, studying the place I would now call home. Though I did not care for cleaning, a good straightening would make it a fair place to live. As I wandered, I took time to right a tumbled chair or straighten thrown papers. In some places, shards of broken objects dusted the floor, and I made note to come back with a broom as my boots crunched over them.
I lost count of the turns and rooms I visited while the beast trailed me cloaked in his now small cloud of mist. Other than the library, I noted nothing of particular interest until I reached the second floor.
In the midst of the beast’s destruction, a single room remained untouched, and I didn’t blame him for avoiding it. Frills, perfumes, and pillows filled the room with their noxious pink shades. I had no issue with pink in small doses. However, what lay before me made my eyes hurt. The only exception to the overabundance, a set of black, glossy doors, called to me.
They were set into the interior wall to the side and begged for the beast’s angry furrows. Yet, none decorated the surface.
I crossed the pink rugs and opened the door. On the other side, the wood bore the worst marks I’d witnessed, gouging so deep only a thin layer of wood prevented a hole. I gently ran my fingers over the marks, staring at the torn grains.
As I watched, a piece smaller than a hangnail twitched, slowly straightening itself to mend the gash. I would have watched longer, fascinated by the display of enchantment, but the mess inside the room distracted me. Everything from the mattress and bed hangings to the inlaid wood patterns of the floor had been shredded.
“My room,” he said from behind me. “This room is yours.”
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