A Kiss like Roses: Fairy Tale Synergy Book 1

by Colton, Eliza

  “You’re selfish,” I choked out, and he nodded.

  “I am.” He gritted his teeth. “I was terrified of the potential consequences of telling you the truth, so although it tore me apart whenever I saw your smiles and gratitude, I continued to lie to you—and myself. I am a coward, Beatrice. The worst of the worst. That’s why you… should leave. Forget about me.”

  Instead of obeying him, I took a step closer to him. And another.

  Shao’s eyes trembled as he looked back at me, and the air stilled around us. I could only see him, and he could only see me. We were the world. Everything else was a void, unmemorable hue of grays and invisible blacks.

  Heartbeats later, we were a breath apart, and I tipped my head up towards him as if I were taunting him. My breath hammering in my throat, I cupped his chin with my fingers, lowering his head towards me.

  We were mesmerized. Sinking. Drenched by the emotions that spiraled and thrummed around us.

  “Kiss me,” I whispered.

  “Why?” Shao said, his voice haggard and so, so exquisitely damaged.

  “You saved my father,” I said. “Let me save your family.”

  Shao shook his head, taking a step back. I stepped forward twice, closing the distance. I took another deep, unsteady breath before I spoke, my index finger touching the sleeve of his arm as I pointed at him.

  “If you love me—if you’ve ever felt anything for me at all—prove it. Show me. Kiss me.”

  Shao’s eyes lingered on my lips, but he snapped them away to investigate the mansion instead. Shaking his head, he took heavy steps back.

  Stubborn and proud, I continued to chase after him until his back crashed against the silver gates, trapping him between us.

  “You’re a coward,” I said. “If you won’t even kiss me, why bother deceiving me in the first place?”

  “I can’t kiss you because I deceived you,” he said. “I don’t deserve to be saved.”

  “I’m allowing this,” I said, “so what does it matter? We’re using each other. I’m using you for peace of mind, and to assuage my guilt after you saved Father. So why won’t you use me back?”

  Shao shook his head. “Because I care about you. Because—”

  “Don’t make excuses,” I said. Sighing, I added, “This is your last chance. Do you love me? Do you not? Save yourself, or I’ll take this as a rejection—”

  “Then do,” Shao said, unable to look me in the eyes. When I tried to twist his chin towards me again, albeit limply, he stayed firm and still.

  All the tension left my shoulders and back, causing me to slump. My hope escaped my eyes and heart. “I—”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Thank you.”

  Swallowing, I turned away. I needed sleep. When I woke up, I’d be indifferent. I’d given him the opportunity to save himself; he’d refused. That was his fault—and likely proof he hadn’t fallen for me like I had for him, although I refused to keep thinking about that.

  I felt betrayed. Torn apart.

  Heat rushed to my cheeks in shame. I berated myself. What had I just done? And why? I’d been so stupid. So desperate. I hated myself and everything I’d done.

  I should have known I was worthless. I should have known a prince would never turn his eyes to look at someone like me.

  I barely heard the soft clang as Shao haphazardly thrust open the gates, his footsteps brisk and thudding as he escaped the mansion. He didn’t bother to lock it behind him as he fled, running as he darted away.

  Coward. Coward. Coward.

  I repeated the word in my head although I didn’t know who I was referring to. Shao? Myself? Did it matter?

  Losing the strength to remain standing, I reached for the gates, gripping it tight as I watched his back disappear into the darkness.

  Only—

  Flames erupted in the distance; I heard Shao’s grunt of shock as blazing fires shot down from the sky, landing beside him in a crackling, blazing roar.

  Chapter 27

  Shao escaped the flames—barely.

  Jumping to the side, he began sprinting back towards me—towards the mansion—in a mad dash inside to protect his flowers.

  “I don’t have any more talism—” He shouted at me, then grunted as he rolled onto the ground, another flame flicking past his cheek.

  Shouts in the distance cursed. “Get him next time!” A voice cried out. I recognized it. Gunnar.

  My breath caught in my throat. I had no time to mull over my loss and thoughts of rejection.

  I ran back towards the house; I had to grab him the talismans. Anything I could find.

  Flames roared and flickered towards us from all sides. We were surrounded. By whom? Why?

  “Don’t hit the roses!” Gunnar shrieked again from far away—yet too close. “We need them!”

  Another arrow of flames pelted the ground, exploding the dirt and bush in a glorious explosion. I sucked a tooth. Shao was almost trapped in a wall of flames—and this time, they weren’t illusions.

  They were real. They were dangerous.

  They were intended to kill him.

  Helpless and fearful, I darted my gaze up in the general direction. In the darkness—and his previous stillness—I’d seen nothing there. No one. Now, in the illumination of the endless, crackling, all-devouring flames, I could see silhouettes crawling down from the large oak trees they’d hidden in.

  I glanced back into the mansion one last time—and realized that by the time I found any talismans, Shao would be dead.

  Shrieks tearing out of me, I rushed out the gates and choked on the swirling ashes and smog as I rushed to Shao’s side. Mere yards away, I opened my mouth to speak—

  A shadow seized my arm; pain jutted up my bones as I was forcibly twisted away. Gritting my teeth, I looked up and came face-to-face with Gunnar, a sneer on his face.

  “Connie’s sister,” he said calmly like the entire world around us weren’t erupting into flames. “Do you think you’ll be able to save him? What are you going to do after reaching him? Develop latent magical powers and evaporate the flames?”

  “I-I—” I trembled, unable to speak because he was right. There was nothing I could do. I was useless. Worthless. A burden.

  I glanced at Shao, whose head was turning from left-to-right as he analyzed his surroundings. His eyes met mine; he saw Gunnar’s hand on me, and he roared, rushing towards me with the force of a thousand suns.

  More flames crashed against the ground in front of his path, blocking him with hunger and force.

  There was nothing we could do unless the fires at least ceased—

  “Your mask!” I screamed. “Take it off! I’ll close my eyes—”

  As I spoke, I closed my eyes; I saw Shao’s lips twist into a grim line as he nodded in acknowledgment, and his hand shot towards his mask—

  Gunnar snatched me and turned me back around to face Shao, forcing my eyes back open painfully with his fingers. When he spoke, I could hear the delirious, manic laughter in his voice, although I was faced forward and couldn’t see him.

  “What, is he finally going to shift into a wolf to save himself? Is he going to kill us? Eat us? Is that what he’s trying to shield from your eyes?” Mad, booming cackles consumed the air. “You’ll have to see all of it with me, little bee.” I bristled and shook at his use of the nickname. Had Connie told it to him? Where even was she?

  She’d told me Gunnar was gone! Had she lied to me?

  I saw Shao’s expression twist with fear and fury and—above all—hopelessness as he saw my captivity in Gunnar’s arms, and he licked his lips and heaved a sigh, collapsing to the ground a mere two feet from the dancing flames as though he’d surrendered.

  To death.

  No.

  No!

  I may not have been a witch, but I was human, and I had my legs—which I used to swivel back around, bracing through the flash of pain as my skin twisted in Gunnar’s tight, circulation-cutting grasp. I attacked him with my knee.

/>   Shocked, he yelped; his grasp on me loosened. I jerked away, running towards Shao. I heard the whispering, scratchy sounds of wheels and horses in the distance, and my heart fell. Shao needed to take his mask off. Reinforcements were coming to help the thieves—the murderers—the monsters.

  I reached him. I squeezed shut my eyes.

  Before I understood what I was doing, my hands shot out to his mask, snatching it away; an explosion blasted at my side, causing me to scream; my eyes opened from shock and pain and anguish.

  The last thing I saw was Shao’s face.

  His beautiful face, which had a deep, mutilated scar in the shape of a rose, its thorny stem forming a sideways S over his right eye and under his left.

  I screamed.

  Not because of the flames. Not because I was burning.

  I screamed and I screamed until my voice disappeared into the flames because my limbs had gone numb.

  My eyes darted up and down, left to right. Ever so slowly, from the tips of my fingers, my toes, and my hair, I was disintegrating into fine gold dust, which swirled and swept all around me into a hurricane of sparkling ashes.

  I couldn’t move.

  Couldn’t feel myself.

  Anything.

  Nothing.

  “Beatrice!” I heard.

  A desperate plea, a prayer.

  Familiar.

  Who?

  Beatrice?

  Blank mind.

  Dust, round and round.

  There was the rushing sound of water and whispering leaves. They were everything. They were nothing. They were my world; I belonged in nature. I was nature.

  I felt myself falling deeper, lower, to kiss the ground. Home. I felt myself twisting, compressing, becoming a shell of myself; it should have been agonizing, but pain was foreign to me. Impossible, intangible. Unreal.

  There was a sudden warmth on my lips.

  (What were lips?)

  Wetness on my cheeks.

  (What were cheeks?)

  My mind snapped back into place, and I began hearing a series of grunts and thumps and screams—but that wasn’t important.

  Dust spiraled back to my body, forming skin and hair and sinew and bone where there was only thorns, petals, and air.

  This, too, was meaningless. There was something far more breathtaking in front of me. Happening to me.

  Shao.

  His lips gasped for breath against mine, allowing me to feel his desperation and horror. His hug felt tight, and I struggled to breathe.

  Seeing me return to life, he pulled away, his expression swirling with grief and relief and fury and gratitude all at the same time. Tears spotted his face.

  One thing was painfully clear from his broken gaze: he hadn’t kissed me to save himself.

  The kiss had been to save me.

  He’d locked his lips against mine on the off chance that what we felt for each other truly was the crazy, mad thing called love, and I could be brought back to life—as I had been.

  I gaped, watching his face as the scar faded away. A second later, his skin was porcelain smooth, and it was impossible to believe he’d ever had a single blemish.

  Shao… was beautiful.

  He could have been the finest statue at the most expensive, exclusive auction, with his striking blue eyes and chiseled jaw providing a canvas for the pure symmetry of his features.

  He’d been attractive enough with the mask on, but that had been nothing compared to how he looked now.

  “Shao—”

  “Shao!” A female voice screeched. A brunette woman darted towards us, her hair curly and wild. In my haze, it took me several seconds to recognize her. Princess Isabella.

  She froze the moment she saw Shao. He quirked a rueful, hesitant smile, and her jaw tensed as it widened into an O-shape. Her eyes bulged out as she remained rooted to place for one, two, three seconds.

  Then, she jumped into his arms, spinning around with tears and laughter, and a pathetic part of me wished I were her.

  My mind slowly cleared, the clouds of my transformation splitting at the pace of snails, and I looked around, confused. The flames had evaporated, leaving only ashes, patches of blackness, and burnt plants in their absence.

  The men and women from the trees had been gathered in several spots, shining, magical golden chairs wrapped around them and tightening to the point of suffocation every time they retaliated. There were so, so many of them, and I soon realized the group contained almost every denizen of my town who was of age…

  And no doubt, the rest of the town had known, too. That was why the only people gathered around me at the town had been either children or grandparents.

  I could have laughed if I weren’t so distraught.

  Their irritated shouts soon died out as they realized they were captive, and no one would step up to help them. Unlike the spell I’d cast on Mother, none of the enchanted chains had floating clock faces next to them.

  I glanced back to the mansion; the mansion’s garden was untouched, but for the missing roses. I gasped. In their place stood several boys and girls who looked around the age of Shao and me.

  Most of them were dressed in ornate but pale and unassuming outfits, no doubt meant for servants. Although they’d been adults to Shao’s eyes, now that we were older, they were… only teens. Some younger than us, while others were hardly older. Shao and I shared a glance.

  They must have remained frozen in time while they’d been turned into roses. Otherwise, it didn’t make sense for them to be so young…

  But their ages were ridiculous, even if they hadn’t aged. I’d expected adults from Shao’s description of them, but he’d been a child back then. Of course, people our age would have seemed old, responsible, and wise when he was only a child.

  I… could understand their irresponsibility. I understood why they’d chosen to escape the mansion rather than stay with Shao in the timeless prison in the forest.

  They were young. They were fearful. The isolation and heavy responsibility would have been enough to break an adult; they’d been far from fit for their jobs.

  There were others, too, dressed in a variety of different outfits. Girls, boys, men, women. They looked hardened and coarse, although there was a beauty to many of their features, too.

  “Your weapons are gone, and so are the roses,” Shao said, and I realized who they were. The other thieves, who’d gone missing after trying to steal a rose. “Go home.”

  Cacophonies of noises from both the garden and the trees around us pierced my eardrums.

  I collapsed to the ground, and Shao released his sister to hold out his hand to me. I picked up the mask that had fallen during my transportation before I accepted his hand and pulled myself up.

  “Um…”

  “Thank you,” he said, brushing away my tears. “Thank you, Beatrice. Thank you.”

  Rooted to place, I said nothing. What happened now?

  “Are you… going home?” I asked, and he nodded, his gaze distant. I bit my tongue to prevent myself from yelling at him to stay with me.

  “I have to go see my family—my mother,” he said, and I gulped.

  He saved Father, I thought to myself, in desperate need of this reminder. This… was my repayment. Saving him. Shao will be King, and I will remain… myself. We will operate different spheres. Accept it, Beatrice, accept it!

  I clawed at my palms to keep myself from bursting into more heavy, endless tears. I gave Shao a smile, although I hated every second, and my cheeks rebelled against me.

  “I’ll miss you,” I said.

  Shao began to reply, but a shriek from the mansion interrupted him. Turning around, I saw Constance, her skin pale and her eyes wide as saucers.

  “Wh-what in the world?” She cried, looking around with a shocked grimace at the complete change in scenery and the singed ground until her eyes landed on Gunnar and the rest of the townsfolk. “H-how did you get here? I thought you left, Gunnar—”

  Understanding dawned o
n her, and she dry heaved before rushing towards me so she could hug me protectively. Covering my ears with her hands, she began screaming a string of incoherent words that weren’t curses, but sure sounded like it from her tone. She was furious. I was grateful.

  I breathed out a sigh of relief.

  Connie hadn’t been involved.

  Somehow, Gunnar had deceived her, too.

  My energy seeped out of me once more, and I stumbled into her arms, plunging into a deep, dreamless, and feverish sleep.

  Chapter 28

  When I woke up again, I was rolled around into a burrito in my own bed, Shao’s white mask hugged tight in my arms. Shao himself was nowhere to be seen.

  At my bedside sat Connie, who was snoring gracelessly with her head tipped back over the top of her wooden chair. I swore I could even see a bubble of snot rise and pop from her nose at some point, but I pretended like the good sister I was that I’d imagined it.

  My parents were huddled together in the corner of the room reading the latest romance novel to each other. Mother was chastising Father about how he needed to persevere to win her back after such a long time… away.

  “I’m popular, you know. I could leave you at any moment for a better, wealthier man, so you’d better step up to the challenge.” She said at some point, pretending she wasn’t still breaking down into tears every hour at the realization that her husband was truly next to her, sitting and speaking.

  “Of course, Sophia,” replied Father, rubbing her back with a soft, caring expression on his face that I’d longed to see for years.

  When they noticed I was up, they fed me bland mashed potatoes, then ordered me to wake up Connie. We had places to go, events to attend.

  Father was back, and although he was weak, he could still paint—and once he’d become accustomed again to painting, he had a lot of work to do… but he’d need to find clients, first. That job was delegated to Connie and me.

  When I struggled to wake up my poor sister, Father suggested with a twinkle in his eye that I pour a bucket of ice water on her, and I tipped my head back to laugh.