Belle the Beast Tamer

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Belle the Beast Tamer Page 5

by Pauline Creeden


  I rested my face against Bastian’s shoulder, feeling the roughness of his worn hoodie. He smelled of pine and oak… of the woods and freedom. He began to stroke my hair. “I’m sorry that you had to learn it all this way. I’m sorry that you’ve been tricked. I don’t need to keep you captive any more. You’re free to go first thing in the morning.”

  I pulled back from him and met his dark blue eyes. I shook my head. “I’m helping you.” Determination coursed through me. “We will make them pay for what they did to you… What they did to my mother, and all those sick lies.”

  He blinked, worry flickering through is eyes. “You…”

  “No,” I said, “Don’t tell me I can’t.”

  “But it’s not safe,” he said with a slow, gentle shake of his head.

  “Did you trust them once?” I asked, swiping the tears from my face. I refused to cry any more. I needed to focus and quit feeling sorry for myself.

  His eyes narrowed, and he frowned. “No, but many do. I was cursed from the beginning. Before I developed my powers, I was too young to understand the importance or meaning of trusting a society—or anyone for that matter. See, my family and I, we lived in Germany.”

  I nodded at the explanation of his unique accent. Remaining silent, I allowed Bastian to continue his story.

  “I was fourteen when my parents were… killed by thieves. I was so consumed by the rage that my powers took hold and I shifted for the first time. I was out on the driveway when I got the news. The policemen started screaming. I didn’t know what was happening, and in my anger, I accidentally harmed those nearby me. When I came to my human form again, I returned, only to be taken away from my home by the government. I was taken to the Guardians—no one trusts a dragon. I can tear down a building simply by shifting. I can hurt people, even if I don’t mean to.”

  “They say your kind is almost always evil.” I sighed. “Looking at this all now, I can see how that is more than a bit prejudiced.” It pained me, but there was still a part of me that screamed not to trust a dragon shifter. But it felt like a cruel thing to do. How could I not trust Bastian just because he was a dragon? Though I was raised to be wary of dragon shifters, I was beginning to see the lies for what they were. Prejudices. “Where are the papers?” I asked, changing the subject and pulling away from him and creating a distance between us. I blushed, realizing I had been crying in his arms. As I pulled away from the moment, I felt more and more self-conscious.

  “Here,” he stood and grabbed the papers from the nightstand then he kneeled in front of me and put a key in the lock on of the cuff around my ankle. “I’m sorry that I put this on you. It’s the same chain they used to hold me down…”

  I frowned, watching him handle the chains with disdain. “You must hate them as much as I do.”

  His eyes met mine, surprised. “I hated having to chain you up. I hated keeping you hear. It was fear that made me do it. I just couldn’t have you running off and telling the Guardians where I was. It would have meant chains for me, and I…”

  “I understand.” I rested a hand on his shoulder, as he still knelt in front of me. “But never do that to me again, promise?”

  His expression softened, and the slightest dimple showed in his cheek as he offered a small smile. For the first time, I noticed he was only a few years older than me, at the most. “I promise.”

  My heart fluttered, but I couldn’t let my hormones take control right now. I pulled my hand from his shoulder and concentrated on the papers. Clearing my throat, I said, “Mm. Well, then, let’s go over this. I mean what are these pages even saying?” I asked, flipping the pages that seemed to look liked detailed reports.

  Bastian got up from the floor and sat down on the bed beside me. I felt the heat of his presence as he looked over my shoulder. My skin prickled along my neck. Why was I so aware of him all of a sudden?

  He didn’t say a word, so I cleared my throat again. “Some of this appears to be in German. What does it say?”

  He blinked at me a moment, and then shook his head. Blushing, he said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know most of the words on those pages. When I was young, before my parents passed, I was top of my class, but then… Well, you saw the scars. I spent most of my time being abused and tortured by the Guardians. Between that and living out in these woods alone, I’ve forgotten most of what I managed to learn in Germany. And since I’ve been in the U.S., I’ve worked on teaching myself English instead.”

  My heart ached for him, and my stomach twisted. What kind of horrors did he go through? “I’m so sorry. I’ll read what I can, and we’ll try to figure things out together.”

  Chapter Eight

  “They documented our behaviors. Tested us. Observed us.” Bastian’s eyes had a faraway look as he recalled what he could from what we’d pieced together on the papers.

  “More like breaking you. That’s terrible.” I looked up intently at him. “You did not deserve that.”

  “How can you say that?” he asked, turning toward me. “You don’t know me.”

  “No, I suppose I don’t,” I responded, annoyed. Any kindness I showed, he matched with a witty, cruel remark.

  “I could be a murderous dragon,” he stated flatly.

  “You’re not, though. I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

  “For now. You don’t get it. In a way, they are right. I don’t control my powers very well.”

  “That’s because no one ever taught you.” I smiled and patted his back. “We’ll work on that. Now tell me, what do you remember… of that place? Do you remember what it looked like or the people’s faces?”

  Bastian breathed deeply and his eyes focused on the wall ahead as though it wasn’t there, and he was seeing something farther away. “I was in Europe when I escaped. It was three years ago. The place where they kept me had white walls like a hospital. I don’t know where in Europe exactly… I think Austria, maybe? It was dark, and I didn’t stop flying until I was in Iceland. As soon as I was rested, I kept flying until I was here in the United States. I stuck to the woods and mountains, but I needed an ocean between me and my captors.” He sighed. “Sorry I’m not of more help.”

  I rested a hand on his. “Bastian, you’re not in this alone, and you’re doing just fine.”

  He smiled, but his body stiffened just a bit. He didn’t budge; he seemed afraid that any movement he made would cause me to pull back. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

  I pulled his hands to me, cupping them in my own. His hands were warm to the touch. "I mean it. Don't be so hard on yourself. I can't even imagine what you went through, Bastian.” My eyes searched his, imploring him to believe me. “I don't even think I could begin to understand. And to think that my mother went through something similar..." I trailed off, my grip on his hands loosening. He gripped them gently, pulling them toward him.

  "It'll be okay. We'll right this wrong. I'll help any way we can. You said your mother went missing in Italy, right?"

  I nodded, my eyes glued to our hands.

  "Let's start there.” He squeezed my hands, released them and stood.

  "How will we get there?" I frowned, looking up at him.

  "I'll buy plane tickets tonight. Let me just grab my laptop and credit card."

  I blinked. "You have those things… you have service out here?"

  He laughed. "I have a dish installed on one of the trees, running to the house. And once I escaped the guardians, I’ve been in touch with my family’s lawyer. I can’t trust many people, but I trust him. He’s given me the means to live in hiding out here and still go to town on occasion to buy supplies and such. I have four of these cabins that I alternate between so I don’t easily get caught."

  I rolled my eyes, and laughed. "This whole time I could have been scrolling social media. You're such a terrible host," I teased.

  His eyes were apologetic as he said, "Next time I hold someone hostage, I'll be sure to provide them with the wi-fi password."

  I giggled. "As you s
hould. It's only proper."

  "You're different from most of the people I've met." His eyes sparkled for the first time, and his dimple seemed almost like a permanent part of his face. He’d seemed so grumpy and worried before when he was my captor, but now his expression had softened.

  "Well, I would certainly hope so. Doesn't sound like you've been around the best of people."

  His brow furrowed. "Not just that. Any other person… I don't suppose they'd be handling any of this all too well. And here you are, ready to fight. It's admirable."

  I shook my head. "Oh, I doubt that. You just do what you have to. Like Mom always said, 'it is what it is, you do what you do, and you never give up'."

  "Your mother sounds like a wise woman."

  "She was," I whispered, twisting my ring absentmindedly. "She really was."

  When I turned thirteen, my father gave my a journal that had belonged to my mother. In it, I read all the pages filled with a wisdom that most would pay money to hear. I had lived my life fearlessly, and I always wanted to help and love others, even those others viewed as a threat. I remembered going to the market with my mother, who always bought extra apples to hand out to the homeless that loitered outside.

  One day she handed me the apple. "Why don't you go give it to him?"

  "Do I have to?" I had asked, frowning.

  "No, but if you don't, I won't. Don't you think he would like something to eat?"

  I had nodded, my heart racing in my chest. "Fine."

  At the time, I was mad at my mother for making me approach the homeless man, but when his eyes had lit up and he smiled, the hunger evident in his skinny bony arms, I felt ashamed for being angry. "Here you go," I had said, holding out the apple.

  "Thank you. Bless you, child!"

  "Of course. You're welcome." That small act of kindness had made a good feeling bloom in my heart, and I understood why my mother had made me do it myself.

  He had eagerly bit into the apple.

  Snapping back to the present, I looked up and Bastian had already returned with his laptop. He typed slowly, and it almost pained me how much he was struggling. Even though he didn’t look my way, he seemed aware of my eyes on him—a blush creeped up his ears and down his neck. I waited patiently for him and decided to flip through a book he had set on the nightstand earlier. Without asking for help, he managed to navigate the internet fairly well and purchased the tickets.

  “Done,” he said as he closed the laptop. “We leave in the morning.”

  I nodded.

  His eyes looked playful as he stood and set the laptop on the nightstand. "Well, I say we take a bit of a break from all this. What do you think?"

  "What do you mean?" I lifted a brow.

  He shrugged and leaned against the doorframe. "What are we going to do for the rest of the day until we have to leave?"

  "I hadn't thought much of that." I snapped my fingers and set the book I was reading back on the nightstand. “How about I make us some breakfast?"

  His brow furrowed. "You don't have to do that."

  "I want to. I mean, you may have been a sketchy host, but I'm a pretty darn awesome guest. Besides, I make a killer omelet. All I need are eggs and cheese, if you have those?"

  "I went shopping yesterday." He smiled, but he looked a little nervous as I left the bedroom for the first time and headed into the kitchen.

  I opened up his fridge and rifled through it as if it was my own. "Eggs. Ham. Cheese. Milk. Perfect. Go sit. Relax. You've been up all night with me and my sobbing."

  “In your defense, you had every right to cry.”

  “Be that as it may, it’ll be good for me to do something. I’ve been going a bit stir-crazy.”

  “Tell me about it,” he mumbled and sat at the kitchen table.

  As I heated oil in the pan, I couldn't help but laugh at how crazy life had become. Here I was, being held hostage only a day before, now preparing a meal for me captor.

  "What's so funny?" Bastian asked. "Did I do something wrong?"

  "Oh, not at all. I mean, knocking me unconscious and chaining me to a wall, well, that wasn’t exactly legal, but I’ll let it slide.”

  His dimple disappeared as his frown returned. "Can we let up on the jokes? I had to protect myself, but I never wanted to do any of that to you."

  "I understand, but it’s funny to watch you squirm." I winked.

  His smile returned, but softer, and his dimple peeked back out.

  My heart fluttered in my chest. Were we just flirting? I shook my head and spun around, heat flushing my cheeks. I got busy with the omelets and tried to forget about the man watching me. The man who somehow got more handsome with each moment as we relaxed with each other. As I poured the eggs into the pan, I called over my shoulder, “These will be ready in no time.”

  When they were finished, I slid the omelets onto the green plates I had found in his cupboard, and grabbed two forks and two knives and placed them on the worn wooden table.

  "I hope you like them!" I smiled and took the seat across from him.

  Before he’d even finished chewing the first bite, Bastian complimented the food. His smile grew wider and he even stood up a little and gave me a little half bow.

  “Thanks.” I blushed and then returned to eating my own eggs. "So, tell me, what do you do out here in these parts for fun?"

  He laughed. "Hunting. Swimming. Walking. I only run to town for supplies, and even then I have to be careful about when I go and how often."

  I nodded. "That makes sense. Well, why not go swimming and then we can pack and get things ready for tomorrow."

  He nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Okay."

  "Speaking of packing and such, would it be okay if I get my journal back?"

  "Of course.” He took a deep breath and placed his hands on the table. “I swear, I didn't read it..."

  "I trust you.” I gave a quick nod and took another bite of my omelet.

  He blinked at me, an unreadable expression flickering across his face. “You… you trust me?”

  Still chewing, I nodded.

  He swallowed hard and looked down at his now empty plate, his hands fisting on both sides. “No one has ever said that to me before.”

  I blinked at him, but he kept his focus on his hands and plate. He was a dragon. Even among shifters, we’re taught to never trust a dragon because it proves that the shifter is violent to the core. But Bastian didn’t seem that way to me. He was rare and different, but seemed like he genuinely hated that he’d kept me prisoner the way he did. He seemed kind. And while I was thinking, I’d missed the opportunity to say anything in response to him.

  After a long moment of silence, his fists clenched, and his skin gained an iridescent sheen. He stood. “I should go.”

  I set my fork on my plate. “Wait—”

  He shook his head, but still didn’t look at me. “I just have to…”

  The shine on his skin transformed into scales.

  “Breathe,” I urged. “You just have to breathe.”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. “You don’t understand!” His deepened voice rang through the cabin.

  When I had first started shifting, I was a child and my mother had already been gone. My father wasn’t a shifter, and didn’t understand what I was going through. I had to learn to control my animal, or I was a danger to myself, to my father, and everyone. I did understand. But when I opened my mouth to say so, He’d already ran outside. I chased him, but only in time to see his finished transformation into the black and green monster that flapped its wings and jumped into the air, moving faster than should have been possible.

  Chapter Nine

  You could leave now, my mind whispered, but instead I cleaned up the kitchen, drying the dishes and putting them away. I didn’t stop there. I managed to scrounge up some cleaning supplies. I wiped down the counters, mopped the floor, and even began dusting the furniture in the house.

  While cleaning, I found my jour
nal. I opened it up and began writing.

  Today I’m grateful for: The truth, being free, and Bastian.

  Goals for today: Go swimming, pack, and apologize to Bastian – help him know this is normal.

  Oh, how life had changed…

  I wanted to write more. I wanted to write about how my time had changed, but I couldn’t seem to find the words to describe the betrayal I experienced by the Guardians or the truths I now knew. Maybe it was because writing it down made it real, or maybe I just couldn’t face the pain of writing down what happened to my mother, but whatever the reason, I closed my journal. I was worried for Bastian, and I wanted to tell him that he had control just as I did … he just didn’t know how to keep himself contained. I would help him tame his beast if I could.

  But for now, I reeked. It had been almost three days since I’d washed up or changed my clothes… or even shifted. Knowing I was alone in the cabin, I pulled the shirt over my head and slipped out of the rest of my clothes. Then I shifted and ran through the forest.

  I stayed somewhat close to the cabin, with my eyes to the sky to make sure that he didn’t think I’d left him. I didn’t want him to return and find me long gone. I headed for the nearby stream and went for a swim, allowing myself to completely wash up as a tiger first. The freedom of being in my beast form made me finally feel like I was free again. But it brought my thoughts back to my mother. If she’d been chained with a cuff like the one I had, how long had it been since she’d been allowed to shift? Going a month without shifting would probably drive me insane. It would have been closer to twelve years for her.

  Once I got out of the water, I shook myself dry. Then I made my way back to the cabin. Bastian had offered to go swimming with me, and I’d be happy to go again. I got to the cabin and after I made sure I was alone, I shifted back into my human form and took a shower. Then I found some clean clothes in my pack and napped while I waited for Bastian to come back.

 

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