Dream Trysts: A Sleeping Beauty Story (Passion-Filled FairyTales Book 4)

by Rosetta Bloom

  James didn’t take his eyes off her, knowing she was as dangerous as they came. He tried not to let the fear threatening to bubble up take hold of him.

  “Did Eldred beg for his life?” Maurelle asked, her red lips cruel and unrelenting in their speech.

  James stared at her a moment. A pang of guilt shot through him. He hadn’t wanted to kill Eldred. The fairy had been kind to him until that point. “He told me he forgave me for what I had to do. He said it was you who killed him.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she shouted, “Liar!”

  James shook his head. “I had no quarrel with him,” he said, watching her closely. She seemed to want him to apologize, or explain, or perhaps ease her mind in knowing that Eldred had not suffered. Only James had no intention of doing so, which meant she would be riled. She might attack. He widened his stance, slid his hand to the hilt of his sword to be at the ready. “Eldred attacked me. I defended myself. Your fairy said he had foreseen it, that he forgave me.”

  James had been prepared for her to lunge, so he’d drawn his sword quickly, but he hadn’t been prepared for the transformation, for the huge lioness that leapt from her clothing straight at him. He’d barely raised his hands to shield himself from the attack, when a strong wind burst forth and knocked the lioness to the side.

  Rose. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “She will not stop you,” Rose’s voice said in his mind.

  The lioness righted herself and then the animal head cocked to the side, and looked around with eyes that were wiser than that of a ferocious beast. They were the wise eyes of a sorceress.

  The cat moved in sleek strides parallel to James, watching, surveying the air around him. James clutched the sword in his hands as he watched the large cat shift back and forth, cutting a path in the dirt. He stood firm, his fingers gripping the sword tightly. The cat stopped and took him in, as if taking a final look at her target before striking.

  James steeled himself and spoke. “I am going to awaken Rose,” he said. “You’ve lost someone dear to you. And Dwennon told me he saw that you killed my guard, Bayard. If you leave now, we can simply say that we — you and I — are equal. We’ve each suffered a loss. But we each need not suffer more.”

  The lioness started forward, and James raised his sword in front of him. But the beast transformed back into the fairy. “You think,” she said, her eyes cold and black, her hair, shining in the moonlight. “That you and I are equal.” She laughed mirthlessly. “You insult me by comparing yourself, a meager, weak, human, to me. You are nothing more than an irksome nuisance. An ant I can crush with my shoe.”

  James shook his head. “Yet you haven’t crushed me. And perhaps if I were alone, you would be correct, Maurelle. But I am not alone. I have Rose and I have Dwennon to aide me. And even, I believe, I had Eldred’s support. I am not alone. But you,” he said, lifting one hand from his sword to wave around them. “You are quite alone here. This is a fool’s battle. I will get to Rose. Let me pass unhindered.”

  Her eyes were colder, harder, blacker now than they’d been before. She tipped her head forward and transformed, lunging at him as a lioness. He dodged aside, forcing his sword out, hoping to scrape her as she sailed past him.

  She was quicker than he expected. He just barely stepped aside in time, his hand banging into the beast’s thick, muscled side, so that he almost dropped his sword. He turned to see she’d landed gracefully.

  He darted forward, his sword straight in front of him, hoping to strike first, before she could gain her bearing. But she was agile, and she pounced, landing on top of him with her massive, sharp paws. She raised one paw back to tear through him with her claws, when he heard Rose in his head, “Now” she said, and he felt a gust of wind flow through him. It blew Maurelle backward.

  James stood, hoping to gain the advantage while Maurelle recovered, but her feline body seemed to have melded with her fairy mind, because she was back on her feet, coming at him again. Only this time, a vortex of wind descended on the cat, casting her backward, and then swirling midair, acting as a shield between them.

  It was an odd sensation, being this conduit for Rose. He could feel the currents as they swirled, even though he wasn’t actually the one in control of them.

  He watched the swirling wind, as the cat moved to the side, trying to find a way around the shield. Only, there wasn’t. As the cat moved, so did the maelstrom.

  James realized that Rose didn’t want him to fight Maurelle. She just wanted to hold her off, to keep her from hurting him. Only, that strategy was bound to fail in the long run. Maurelle was out for blood. He could see it in her eyes. There was no way to simply hold her off. She would keep coming. But the strength of a lioness was too much. He couldn’t win when she was in that form. He was strong, but not strong enough to defend against her talons. He needed a shield, if he were to fight her. Or, something else.

  “Rose,” he thought to her in his mind. “Use the wind to push her toward the castle.”

  “The castle?” she asked, curiosity in her tone. “Why?”

  “Please, just do it. It will take too long to explain.”

  He saw the spinning vortex of wind move, closing in on the cat, who was backing away, moving toward the castle, which was surrounded by the wall of sharp, hard thorns. He followed the cat, standing tall as he walked, his back straight, his eyes cold, hoping to look imposing, hoping to look smug, hoping to look like he was her superior in every way.

  And feeling the flow of the wind that Rose conducted through him, helped, as well. It added to his aura, and he hoped Maurelle felt the depth of his power. Still in lioness form, the queen growled at him as she was pushed back by Rose’s winds. Her obsidian eyes flashed of deep fury as he stood on the other side of the vortex, looking down upon her. They approached the wall of thorns, and James slid his fingers over a protruding point. It was hard like metal, and the edges, he was sure would be sharp enough to pierce even the thickest hide.

  “Rose,” he called to her in his mind. “Release the wind slowly.”

  “But she’ll come at you,” she said.

  “I know, but I want her to. I know I can defeat her,” he said to her silently.

  He looked over to the edge of the clearing, where Dwennon lay unconscious from Maurelle’s attack. “Dwennon,” he called out, knowing the older man couldn’t hear him. “Something’s wrong. I’m losing my connection to Rose, to the wind.”

  The wind died down slowly and he could see Maurelle walking toward it with more confidence, the golden furred cat shoulders raised, the head alert, eyes staring deeply at him. The paw tested the dying wind, and James let a shadow of the fear he’d felt earlier cross his face, enough for the fairy turned lioness to see. Enough for her confidence to surge.

  He could feel the wind slowing, the vortex of protection dying down, and he heard Rose in his mind, ask him a final time if he was sure. Yes, he told her back, and the wind evaporated. No sooner had it happened that the muscles in the cat tensed, the hind legs pushed off, straight for James, who was standing right in front of the thorns. Her razor sharp claws were outstretched to spear him. He, too, moved, but forward, thrusting his whole body toward the ground, to slide under the leaping cat.

  Maurelle realized too late his aim and, unable to stop herself, landed in the thorns with an inhuman cry of pain that sounded part lion, part banshee.

  James rolled and stood up, turning toward her, his sword drawn, to see that Maurelle, in her pain, had transformed back into her fairy body. It was impaled with thorns, through the stomach, the arm, a leg, a large spike having gouged part of the right side of her neck. There was blue blood streaming from her, pooling on the thorns. He went over to her, to get a closer look, to make sure she was as wounded as he thought. And though he hated to think it, to finish her, if necessary.

  But as he got a closer look, and heard the gasping wheezes issuing from her, he knew she hadn’t much time left. It was too late. Her large,
black eyes appeared less dark now as the life poured from her body. She looked almost helpless and sorrowful. The mean line of her lips was pitiful as she gasped for air. He could see, as life neared its end for her, that she had probably been kind once, had probably been better than this. Her eyes found his and even, for a second, looked like they wondered if she had done the right thing. He reached for her, and as her gasps for breath stretched further apart, he took her hand and said, “I’m sorry.”

  She gave a final gurgle of air, and went limp. With her death, the thorns started to shrivel and wither, and finally break into small pieces. They looked like dried broken leaves now. James, reached down to touch them, and they felt like sand. This last vestige of Maurelle’s power was waning. He looked toward the castle. Rose was in there, somewhere, he knew.

  He took a step forward, but then stopped and turned around. In the distance, he saw Dwennon, still laying there. He went to check on the old fairy. He crossed the area where he’d battled the wicked fairy and found Dwennon lying beneath the tree. He knelt down, placing his ear near the wrinkled face of the fairy. He could feel warm breath. He placed an ear on Dwennon’s chest, and heard a heart beating. He was alive, just unconscious. He wondered for a moment if he should wait for him to wake, but then he saw an elderly woman appear as if from nowhere. He assumed she was a fairy. She seemed matronly and kind, but he did worry if Maurelle had supporters. He eyed her carefully, but she didn’t seem to mind.

  “Rose is waiting for you,” she said. “I’ll sit with him until he awakens. He’ll be fine.”

  James stood, and nodded to the woman. Something about her made him feel content, like he was doing the right thing.

  He turned and ran toward the castle. All were sleeping, everywhere he looked. People who seemed to have been at work one moment when they suddenly just fell asleep. Men loading carts asleep atop crates. The royal guard asleep at their posts. It was such an odd thing to see.

  He blocked it out as he ran through the castle, searching for the tower he’d seen in his dreams of Rose. “I’m coming,” he called to her in his mind. Only it felt like he was calling into nothingness. It felt like she was gone.

  Something inside him knew that whatever connection they’d forged to defeat Maurelle was now gone. He wasn’t sure how he knew it or why, but he knew their link was broken. And now would be a great time to have it, for he wasn’t sure where to go next. He wandered the castle, using his memory of the outside to guide how he moved inside, hoping to find the tallest southwest tower.

  At last, he found a doorway with a narrow winding stairwell, and he felt sure this was it. He climbed the stairs and appeared in a small room at the top of a tower. And there, lying like a vision of perfection on a bed of satin, was Rose.

  “I’m here,” he said, as he ran to her side. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted just slightly, and her chest moved up and down slowly. She was perfect, even in sleep.

  At her side, he leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. They were soft and moist, and after a moment, he felt them prickle and slowly respond to him. Soon, her kiss was more than just two sets of lips touching, lightly, it was tongue and passion and desire.

  He stroked her cheek as he kissed her, and she pulled away from him, with a smile. “James, I dreamt of you,” she said.

  He laughed. “It was more than a dream, you know,” he said with a wink.

  She nodded, and he gave her some space to sit up. “It still feels a bit dreamlike, though,” she said, as her eyes scanned the room. She took a deep breath and stretched out her arms. “My body feels like it’s been asleep so long.”

  “It was certainly less than a hundred years,” he said, as he watched her test her limbs. “And you look much better than I did when I awoke from my enchanted sleep.”

  Her brow creased, and she frowned. “I’m sorry for that.”

  He shook his head. “No need for apologies. I’m happy you’re awake.”

  “You slayed the proverbial dragon to ensure it.”

  “Well, I prefer the proverbial dragon to the real-life lioness.”

  They both laughed, and a moment later, the older woman who’d appeared below entered the room using the staircase. Rose looked over to the woman and seemed to recognize her. “Hilly,” she called out. “Are you alright?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I just wanted to let you both know that Dwennon was alright. The rest of the castle seems to be awakening. Maurelle must have tied their slumber to Rose’s.”

  Rose smiled, as did James.

  Chapter 31

  Once the castle was awakened, a huge celebration for the kingdom was had. All rejoiced in news that Briar Rose was returned home and free of the wicked curse. They also celebrated because James, upon meeting King Edmund, had asked for Briar Rose’s hand in marriage, to which Edmund gladly agreed.

  The morning after the grand celebration, Rose was awakened in her chamber by her mother, who bade her to hurry as there were important decisions to be made today.

  Rose left her bed reluctantly. Despite being in an enchanted sleep, if one stayed up ‘til the wee hours in revelry, one was still tired after only an hour or two of slumber.

  Rose went quickly with her mother to her parent’s private chambers, where she was surprised to be greeted by Dwennon, Hilly, and James.

  She looked around the room curiously. No one was speaking, and all eyes flew to her the moment she entered. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Her mother patted her on the shoulder and said, “You and James have some decisions to make.” She gestured toward James and added, “You two should listen together and decide.”

  Rose made her way over to James, who was settled near a window. He looked almost a bit sparkly with the sunlight streaming in behind him. She joined him and turned back to face the room. Dwennon walked toward them and spoke in a low voice.

  “As you know, Maurelle, was the queen of our realm,” he began. “Her death left the throne vacant. Maurelle had no natural successor because she had no children. Blissa is ineligible because she returned her fairy powers to the well and gave up her claim. But you, Briar Rose, have both the familial claim and the power claim to rule our realm.”

  Rose tilted her head toward him. She must have misheard him. “Me?”

  Dwennon nodded. “You are the granddaughter of King Roldan. And you have an elemental power. Our realm’s best rulers have had elemental powers.”

  Rose shook her head, the astonishment of the suggestion still not quite settling in. Her throat felt dry as she tried to form some sort of response. A better response than the one she’d just given. Only, her mouth seemed only to be able to utter the thoughts roiling about in her mind. “I’ve just barely learnt I am a fairy, let alone how to be one, but you think I can rule an entire fairy realm?”

  Dwennon nodded. “With good advisors and a desire to do so, yes.”

  Rose looked around the room. Her father stood holding her mother’s hand. He looked happy — quite delighted, in fact. Her mother’s face was hard to read, but Rose could tell it wasn’t happiness. Perhaps apprehension. Hilly, the woman who had cared and nurtured her and been like a mother to her, well, Hilly’s face was kind and strong, and, as it had been in most times, reassuring.

  She turned to look at James, and he seemed pensive, and unsure as well.

  She looked back toward her mother. “But I can’t,” she said. “Didn't’ you say the reason you abdicated was because fairies are not allowed to marry humans? I love James and we’re going to be married.”

  Her mother released her father’s hand and walked toward her. “Well, my dear,” she said. “Certainly, if you become ruler, I would advise that you rescind that law. Our races were not meant to fight. For centuries, we have intermingled. But the law, whether you leave it in place or rescind it, won’t impact you and James.”

  She stared at her mother quizzically, and her mother had a bizarre grin on her face. She turned to Hilly, who shared that same silly grin, and then to Dw
ennon. He wasn’t grinning, but he did nod and tip his head toward James. She turned back to look at him, and she realized he was different. The sparkly effect which she’d attributed to the way the light was pouring in was still there. It was a low, shimmery thing and she realized that it was something more than light. It was an aura, a haze, something connected to James that was causing it. “What’s happened to you?” she said.

  He bit his lower lip, and looked at her, for the first time ever, with uncertain eyes. “I’m not sure, exactly,” he said. Then his lips didn’t move and he spoke to her in her head. “I seem to have picked up fairy powers. I’ve been feeling strange ever since the fight with Maurelle, but this morning, when I awoke, I wanted a cup of water, and one floated across the room to me.”

  She stared, wondering how he was speaking in her head. The connection they’d had the other day seemed to have died when Maurelle did

  “How?” she said.

  “The Sacred Pool,” Dwennon answered. “When our forces are out of balance, it bestows powers to those who are capable. We are fairies, but we have not always been blessed with power. The Sacred Pool remembers. Men who are great, men who are above, men who love, have always been considered worthy recipients of fairy status. Though, some of our rulers like to forget such things.”

  She looked at James, who seemed a tad lost in this. Then, she turned back to Dwennon. “But I thought our connection, his ability to receive, ended when Maurelle died.”

  “It did,” Dwennon said. “But he is capable and worthy, so the Sacred Pool has bestowed upon him a permanent gift. You and he may marry, and you may take your place as rulers of the realm.”

  “And if I don’t want to rule a fairy realm?” she asked.