by MJ Haag
As I expected, I found him in his study, head bent over the estate records. He read them often, now. He even had pages of notes. Presently, he scratched something on a piece of parchment, lost to his thoughts.
“Good morning,” I said from the door.
“Good morning.” He lifted his gaze from his ledger to greet me but quickly returned to his reading.
“I was wondering...why did you spare me?”
“What do you mean?” he asked, maintaining his focus on the book before him.
“In the beginning, the first time you threw me over, I wasn’t surprised by the net that caught me. The second time, I thought perhaps I’d just gotten lucky. But after...what was your reason?”
He looked up again and studied me with a peculiar expression.
“You didn’t beg or stammer excuses. You accepted your fate but not with defeat.”
Such a simple thing had saved me?
“Why did you offer me any one thing from the estate?”
A tension crept into his shoulders, and he looked down at his ledger again.
“Why are you asking so many questions?”
“I’m trying to know you better.”
He sighed, and I knew he would answer.
“I wanted to give you a reason to return.”
“And I did,” I said with a smile.
“You did,” he agreed solemnly. “The night you asked for refuge, I watched you try to start the fire. You worked calmly, despite the shivers shaking your hands. You didn’t ask for help or balk at the task like other women I’d known. It upset me.”
His admission surprised me.
“You wanted me to balk and ask for help?” I asked.
“No, after watching you, I wanted to keep you. But you’d only asked for refuge. So, I left you to see if your father had returned.”
“Why did you want to keep me?”
“You ask too many questions,” he said without rancor.
“Is that why you sent the trunk? To lure me back?” I smiled at him, though he wasn’t looking at me. “Blye was quite interested in the cloth. I wonder how you would have fared with her.”
He grunted, and I knew I’d amused him.
I left him to his work, knowing that I’d bothered him enough. I studied the bookshelves. Unsure what I wanted to read, I wandered for a bit. A lower shelf near the door caught my attention, and I bent to study the titles.
Something thumped to the floor in the study. I straightened and looked over my shoulder. The beast leaned over his desk, completely focused on me. On the floor before the desk was the estate book he’d just had open.
“Benella, dearest, please pick a book from the other side of the room,” he said slowly.
I frowned for a moment. Why would he want me to...I recalled Ila bending in front of me to pet the cat. Before the threatening grin could burst forth, I nodded and moved out of his line of sight. Then, I grinned foolishly.
* * * *
A week later, I was feeling decidedly ignored and very unsure of myself. He’d stopped coming to my room at night and disappeared constantly; now, going so far as closing himself in the study.
I paced the library, trying to understand the turn in his behavior. It had started before Bryn’s wedding. The first time he’d...I blushed and stopped my pacing to stare at the barred study. I’d thought his avoidance then might have meant we’d done something wrong, but he’d said we hadn’t. Yet, his current actions seemed to suggest otherwise. Why else completely avoid me if not out of guilt?
Frustrated, I went and knocked on his door.
“Sir?” I still couldn’t bring myself to use his given name.
“Yes,” came his muffled answer. “Enter.”
I walked in. As usual, he didn’t look up. I nervously sat in a chair.
“I don’t understand,” I said.
That caught his attention. With a hint of worry, he looked up.
“What, dearest?”
“You said I didn’t need to apologize, and you seemed to like tasting me. But you’ve stopped touching me completely. You don’t look at me. You barely speak to me. I don’t understand why.”
He focused on his papers.
“Benella, now is not the best time for me to talk about—”
“Was it wrong? Are you ashamed of what we did? Should I be ashamed?” I couldn’t get the image of Sara’s shame from my head.
He stood abruptly and walked around the desk.
“No, Benella,” he said, kneeling before me. “What we did should not cause you shame. I’m trying very hard to distract myself from thinking of those moments with you because I want to do it all again. But, I don’t think I can taste you again and stop.” He touched my face gently. “I want all of you. Please say you’ve reconsidered and will marry me.”
I looked down at my hands, reflecting on what he’d just said. My fear remained. He would want me today or even ten years from now but certainly not beyond that. So I gave him the same answer as before.
“I know quite a bit about the old you, but still very little about who you are now. I know nothing about your hopes for the future beyond your desire to be free of the curse.”
“The answer is still no, then.”
Miserably, I nodded.
“May I please have clothes?”
He remained silent until I met his gaze.
“They are in your room.”
Chapter 11
Once I wore proper clothes, he spent more time with me. We talked for hours of inconsequential things and idled away our time with whatever struck our fancy. He no longer used his mist, and his growl was completely absent. I cherished each day spent with him but found time passed too quickly in his entertaining and courteous company. When each evening arrived, it always felt as if the sun had just risen.
At his insistence, I began to sleep in a plain white gown that stayed on me all night. He still came to my bed and held me while he rested, but only joined me once I already slept. When I woke, he was already gone, waiting for me in the hallway, ready to start a new, companionable day.
Through our time together, he began to share his hopes for his future as a beast; and he stopped trying to see Rose. However, he didn’t ask me to marry him again. I thought he had perhaps come to the same conclusion I had. He would care for me easily in my youth, but not as I weathered.
I tried not to dwell on our future, and gave up trying to quell what I felt for him. I loved the beast and would never stop. I would stay with him for as long as he would have me.
Near the end of summer, an evening storm swept through the area, and the beast and I decided to linger by the fire in the library, one of our favorite pastimes. A warm fire lent a soft glow to the pre-twilight gloom as I reclined on the lounge. My bare feet were propped comfortably on the cushions, and the beast sat on the floor so he could idly run his fingers through my hair as I read aloud.
He stopped me occasionally to feed me some tidbit from the tray on the table or to ask a question about the text. I enjoyed both kinds of interruption.
When I finished the passage, I closed the book softly and sighed. Neither of us talked for a moment, both content as we were.
“I cannot recall when I have ever spent as pleasurable an evening as tonight,” I said, twisting to look up at him.
He gave me a soft look and nodded. But I barely noticed. My words struck a deep chord, and the solution to his enchantment opened wide in my mind. I bolted upright with a jolt.
“Of course!”
He eyed me in concern.
“Did I witness an epiphany?”
I stared at him, torn. If I shared with him what I’d just realized, he could free himself and become a man and age like any other. Time would not make me leave. Yet, he wasn’t any man. He was a lord. And what lord wanted a scholar’s daughter, even in her youth? None. He would likely marry one of his own station. However, if I kept the information to myself, I would win a few more years of his consideration as a beast.
<
br /> His caring gaze held mine, and I knew I couldn’t keep the truth of my revelation from him. He’d suffered his punishment long enough.
I forced a wide grin and ignored the tightening in my chest.
“Yes, you did. A life changing one. If I asked you in what ways you might pleasure me, what would you say?”
“I would rather show you,” he said with a playful growl and a leer.
“If I asked you what things please me, what would you say?”
“We are not talking about sexual pleasure any longer, are we?” he said. With a tender look, he studied me for a moment. “Books please you. Learning. Walking outside. Visiting with your father.”
“So, if I were to ask you for a night of pleasure what would you do?”
His eyes widened, and I knew he’d come to the same conclusion. For the past fifty years, he’d been trying to sexually please the enchantress for nothing.
A storm grew behind his eyes, and I quickly scrambled to my knees and gently held his face.
“You’ve spent time with her over the years. You must know something of what she likes,” I whispered. “Go to her. Try something new.”
He hesitated, and I saw it was because of me. It gave me a small hope. Perhaps a lord could care for a scholar’s daughter. I gently ran my hand along the fur of his neck.
“I am content to stay here with you just as you are, but you are not the same beast you were. Your people need you. You need to bring prosperity back to the north.”
He rose reluctantly, kissed my brow, and left the room.
Feeling bereft, I went to my room and tugged on a nightgown. My heart ached with what the new day might offer. There was the possibility for great happiness and even greater despair. I hoped that once he turned into a man, he would not forget me, as I’d long ago predicted.
I’d thought saving my virginity would be all I needed for a future husband because I’d never considered the possibility that the beast would claim my heart. I knew my foolishness now. If he cast me aside, the beast would hurt me as he’d promised he never would.
Sighing, I tried to let my worries and heartaches free; and gradually, sleep claimed me.
* * * *
Before the sun yet rose, a distant clatter of breaking dishes woke me, and I realized our attempt had failed. As much as I wanted to keep the beast, I wanted to set him free to be the man he should be.
I rose from bed and followed the sounds that continued as I hurried through the halls. A rather loud bang came from the direction of the kitchen, and my heart broke for the beast. I rushed to the room, then froze.
Tennen stood with a sack in one hand, stuffing it with enchanted food. He spotted me and froze in shock as well.
I recovered first, pivoted, and took off running. His steps rang out behind me. Too close. He caught me by my braid. I cried out as he tugged me back against his chest. My heart hammered. I bent forward slightly, intending to hit him with the back of my head, but he spun me and tossed me over his shoulder. He sprinted out the door before I could inhale.
I kicked my legs and tried to twist from his grip, but he held tight. Bracing my hands on his back, I raised my head enough to see the vines move and felt a surge of hope. However, they didn’t move for Tennen. They stretched for Egrit, who ran toward me, and tangled around her trunk and the trunk of her man. Swiftly came thundering toward us only to be caught in the vines, too. Mr. Crow took flight but was snatched from the air. Despair robbed me of my fight. Why would the beast do this?
In the predawn light, Tennen raced through the open gates. His shoulder dug into my middle. Nausea rose. Oblivious, or maybe uncaring, he continued on.
We reached the quiet village of Konrall with me on the verge of vomiting. Regardless, as soon as I saw the first house, I opened my mouth to scream, knowing the butcher and the candle maker would come to my aid. Before I could utter a sound, Tennen threw me to the ground and slapped my mouth.
“Not a sound,” he warned.
“Piss off!” I cried as I tried to scramble away.
He used his body to pin me and stuffed my mouth with a cloth. Then, holding my arms, he tossed me behind his head and carried me like large game. My breath whooshed out of me for a moment. I still struggled, though. The effort earned me a sharp bite to my inner thigh.
He turned into the alley beside the bakery, and I started to panic. When he kicked his booted foot against the door, I struggled wildly. I tried to use my tongue to push the gag from my mouth as I yelled for help.
“Tennen,” the baker cried in delight, eyeing me.
“Bread for life,” Tennen demanded harshly.
I understood what he meant to do and thrashed about, hoping he would drop me.
“One loaf a week until the day you die, or one loaf a day for four months.”
Tennen nodded just as I managed to wriggle one hand free. I clawed at his face, forgetting the gag in my desperation to be free.
“Inside, quickly,” the baker panted.
As soon as the door closed, Tennen swung me from his shoulders and hit me. My ears rang, and I stumbled back, falling against something before crumbling to the ground.
The baker spoke, but I couldn’t understand what he said. It sounded as if I had water in my ears, making his words quieter and garbled. I blinked in an attempt to clear my cloudy vision. Tennen’s legs passed in front of me. I traced them listlessly to the door. The room spun as the door closed behind him. I struggled to my feet then vomited.
The baker cried in dismay and wrapped a meaty hand around my upper arm to half drag me from the room. I struggled, knowing my pathetic attempts didn’t deter him in the least.
He led me through the storefront, where his sister already sat.
“Help.” Through my oddly filtered ears, my plea came out slurred.
She looked at me with concern, but the baker waved her aside.
“She...” The water garbled a few of the baker’s words. “...to recover.”
He opened the door behind the storeroom. It led to a sitting room. He guided me to a lounge and pressed me into the already compressed cushions. I batted his hands away, and he cuffed me upside the head. Not as hard as Tennen, but he hit the same spot and brought back the nausea.
His hand drifted along the line of my throat, down to the neckline of my pathetically thin nightgown. The palm of his hand skimmed my breast. The touch did not send a familiar tingle to my center, just another rolling wave of nausea. I encouraged revulsion with a forced gag.
The baker jumped back, giving me a moment’s reprieve. I brought a hand to my head, rubbing the temple and blinking, trying to clear the fog.
“Let me go,” I said.
“I don’t think so.” His eyes didn’t leave my breasts.
I wanted to cry but, instead, looked for a way to escape. The baker used my distraction and pushed me back, pinning me down with his weight.
I couldn’t breathe. Panic set in, and I pushed at his shoulders. I barely registered the feel of his hand as he shoved the hem of my nightgown up over my waist. I wore nothing underneath.
I twisted in an effort to move his weight aside enough to draw a decent breath.
The bruising force of his knee parted my legs. Air or not, I would not let him take me. I struggled harder, ignoring the spots that danced in my vision.
The door opened, and I sobbed in relief. But, the baker didn’t pause. He began thrusting his hips at me. To my horror, I felt the head of his penis bumping my opening. However, he was unable to penetrate due to his massive stomach.
“Get off!”
He ignored me and pulled back enough to try to readjust his position. I craned my neck, looking to the door. Tennen, Sara, the smith, and the baker’s mother stood there.
“Get him off!”
No one moved. The baker thrust forward again, and his penis came a little closer to my opening. He wiggled one hand under my hip and repositioned me with a grunt.
“Sara!” I screamed.
She looked away, her eyes filled with tears. Tennen smirked. The baker’s mother looked deeply troubled, but did not move.
“Help me!”
The baker’s mouth moved close to my ear. “Now you are mine.”
I turned back toward him, ready to bite his damn nose off. He tilted his hips forward as I opened my mouth with an angry cry. He arched back to avoid me, and the head of his prick bumped to the side, missing my opening completely.
“I will never be yours.” I gave up trying to push him away and clawed wildly at his face. My fingernails left a furrow along his cheek.
“Hold her hands,” he panted, twisting his head out of the way.
“I think not,” a deep voice said from the doorway.
The menacing rumble caused the baker to pause mid-hump. He looked up.
I used the distraction to claw the baker’s face savagely. He cried out and tumbled off the lounge, holding his face in pain. I scrambled to my feet, smoothing down my thin gown as if it could protect me. My legs and arms shook.
“She is mine,” the baker panted. “You saw us bedding.”
“You stunted excuse for a man,” I said, turning and kicking him in his soft middle. “I will never be yours.”
The baker groaned and curled in on himself.
“You heard the lady,” the newcomer said.
I raised my head from the baker to view those who had stood by so callously.
Patrick had pulled Sara to the side. Tennen stood close to them, his hateful expression still on me. I marched right up to him, balled up a fist, and hit him in the mouth. He cried out in shock, and I cradled my hand.
“Bryn was foolish to ever see value in a prick like you,” I said, reigning in a sense of calm.
I looked at Sara with condemning eyes but said nothing. Her husband’s hand rested on her shoulder. His face remained impassive.
Finally, I looked at the baker’s mother, who glanced at her son with a brokenhearted expression. She removed a cloak from the back of a chair, shuffled toward me, and placed it over my shoulders.
While she helped me cover myself, I looked at my rescuers. The man stood tall. So tall he must have had to duck to fit through the door. His clipped dark hair missed his collar by an inch. His stern brow shadowed his deep blue eyes as his gaze remained on me.
