Beauty and the Beast: An Adult Fairytale Romance

by Vivienne Savage

  For the second time, her dream of Alistair resumed where the last encounter had ended. She found the continuity odd, having never experienced such a thing before. Beside her, the dream prince appeared equally puzzled, but then he smiled and cupped her cheeks between his hands.

  “Are you ready to see the heart of the maze, my lass?”

  “Is it close?”

  “Aye, only around this last bend. I promised I would see you through.”

  “We’re not there yet,” she teased.

  Laughing, her prince released her and took her hand, giving a gentle tug as he led the way. An unidentifiable source of illumination shone ahead of them through the hedges, emitting an azure light spreading toward the heavens. Her heart skipped with enthusiasm, thrumming a wild rhythm behind her ribs.

  For all of the time she had lived in the castle, she’d never asked Beast to lead her to the center of the labyrinth. It felt too personal, something shared between her and the dream prince alone, and she’d been too shy to mention the matter of her nighttime adventures with her daylight companion.

  “And we’ve reached the center.” Alistair bowed and swept his arm out. “As promised.”

  Her imagination had constructed an elaborate place of unearthly beauty with a natural hot spring bubbling in the center, large enough for two to enjoy in comfort. Stone lanterns and magnificent statues of fairies occupied each corner, the winged women poised as if they were about to take flight. Lush clover blanketed the ground, dotted with wildflowers in bold red, soft purple, and golden yellow.

  “Oh Alistair, it’s lovely.”

  “It pales in comparison to you, beautiful Anastasia.”

  She turned, releasing her hold on his arm in favor of setting both hands against his chest. “I promised you a reward.”

  His eyes lit with desire. She sighed as he stroked her waist, his hands following the outline of her body until both palms cupped her hips and eased around to squeeze two handfuls of her bottom. “Only what you wish to give.”

  Her dream. Her choices.

  Ana chose boldness and gave in to her desires. Spreading the opening of his shirt, she leaned in and pressed her lips over his heart, tasting his warm, golden skin.

  Under the moonlight, she felt confident and courageous. Unstoppable. She had become the mistress of her own dream, guiding her desires to the outcome she craved. If she wanted a bath with a handsome young man, no one would be the wiser.

  “Turn around,” she whispered before kissing his lips again.

  Questioning brows raised, and then he complied as she’d bid him and turned his back. With him facing away, she shed her clothes and hurried to the spring. Hot water embraced her, the perfect temperature to sink into up to her shoulder beneath the cloudless sky.

  “Will you join me?” she called.

  Alistair turned. His gaze found her piled clothes first, then drifted to her in the pool. He seemed to freeze in place, his only movement the flare of his nostrils.

  “Well?” she called again. “Will you join me, my prince?”

  Unlike her, Alistair didn’t ask her to turn around as he undressed. He shrugged off his shirt and dropped his hands to his heavy belt. Barely tearing her eyes away in time to focus on the water, she heard the heavy thump of his belt hitting the grass. She imagined the tartan unwinding and the bare skin it would reveal. Swallowing, she sank deeper in the spring.

  Heat rose into her cheeks. Dream or not, she struggled against years of modest upbringing. What if it wasn’t a dream? She didn’t dare to ask him, frightened she’d shatter the illusion and her prince would vanish forever.

  As she debated the possibilities of his existence, Alistair crossed the distance between them and joined her in the pool, not stopping until he stood right beside her. She swallowed.

  “Is this what you wished?” he asked.

  Words failed her, and all she could do was nod, which brought a smile to her prince’s mouth. He stepped in closer, nudging their bodies together.

  Steam curled up through the air, but the damp heat held no comparison to the warmth pooling in her belly. Everywhere their bodies touched, her skin felt on fire, even beneath the water—especially beneath the water.

  “I promised you everything.” She found her voice and skimmed her hands up his chest to his neck. Her lips settled over the pulse point at his throat then eagerly climbed upward, only to linger at his jaw. Alistair groaned and turned his head, capturing her lips.

  He ignited a spark within Ana. Her gut clenched, and her toes curled against the mossy bottom of the spring. Instinctively, her arms tightened around his shoulders, and she rose to tiptoe, pressing her bare breasts against his chest. Her nipples skimmed against hard muscle and slick skin, their nudity concealed under the cover of night with only the ghostly, pale blue glow of the stone lanterns in each corner of the maze’s center.

  The hot, unyielding length of him brushed her hip. She gasped in surprise, and then he coaxed her lips to part. What began as sweet became passionate and searing, hungrily tasting then stroking inside her mouth with his tongue. Where Edward had forced, Alistair coaxed, gentle but no less impassioned.

  “Make love to me,” she pleaded on a breathless exhale.

  His strong hands skimmed down her bare back and cupped her bottom. Excitement mingled with panic, anticipation with nervousness. His erection pressed into her softer skin, wedged against her belly.

  But he made no move to join them together.

  “Alist—”

  He cut her off with another kiss. “Not yet, my love.”

  “Not yet?” she asked, bewildered. Had her dream man just denied her sex? She blinked up at him. “Have I done something wrong?”

  “No,” he murmured. “Believe me, Anastasia, you’ve done everything right. But it would be wrong of me, and dishonorable to claim you as mine now. Not while I’m a captive here.” He raised her hand from the water and kissed her knuckles without removing his eyes from her face.

  “I don’t understand. Captive? Then that means… this isn’t…?”

  “This is no normal dream. I’ve realized that now. All along I was uncertain, but now I see the truth.”

  Not a dream. If it wasn’t a dream, then it meant a real man stood before her, a flesh and blood man inhabiting her personal fantasies and most private thoughts. In one moment, she wanted to leap away from him and shield her nudity, but in the next, she yielded to the new, salacious and bold side of her personality. Fearless, her fingers glided low and curled around the thick, hard shaft between them.

  A low growl rumbled in Alistair’s chest. The forward thrust of his hips elicited a surge of satisfaction, prompting her to stroke again. “Tell me how to rescue you,” she whispered against his throat.

  “I… I can’t,” he moaned. The hand cupping her bottom squeezed harder. “You’ve already come so close, lass. Open your eyes. I cannot tell you anything more.”

  “Why not? Why can’t you tell me more?”

  “I’ve told you everything I can.”

  Anastasia startled awake in her bed. She jerked up into a half-seated position with her eyes wide open. Strands of red hair clung to her cheeks, and she groaned when the morning sun shone across her face.

  Her chest heaved, but there was no sign of Prince Alistair beside her or in the room at all, once again leading her to wonder if the magnificent specimen of royalty was a figment of her imagination. Perhaps her inner psyche created another human to fulfill something Beast lacked.

  “Or if not a dream, then perhaps a warning and a plea for help…. If he is here and a captive in this castle, I must find him. Yes. I shall.”

  The princess untangled the sheets from her ankles and legs then tossed them aside. Her thin night rail clung to her curves, the cotton semi-translucent with sweat. As usual, a prepared bath awaited her. She no longer questioned it after so many weeks in the castle.

  All the while that she soaked, her mind furiously worked at untangling the mystery of the hidden pri
nce’s cryptic words. She stepped from the tub and dried herself with haste before she chose the first gown that came to her hand.

  “What does he mean, open my eyes?” she demanded of the empty room. “What am I missing?”

  I’m not a captive, she told herself. Beast was her friend, yet fleeting moments of yearning demanded the company of other humans. She missed the late night conversations with her cousin Victoria, their mischief making in Lorehaven, and afternoon tea over pastries. There would be no more soft butter cookies on spring afternoons with jasmine tea while they discussed boys and exchanged gossip.

  But she was no captive. She’d accepted her fate of her own free will. If Alistair was imprisoned, she’d have to make Beast answer for it and set the prince free.

  “Maybe he truly isn’t aware that there’s another survivor,” she said aloud. “Perhaps he would be as thrilled as I am. After all, there are places in this castle where he cannot go.”

  What secrets did the castle conceal, and how much of it did Beast know?

  If Alistair had been confined to a room in the castle, then she would find him.

  She moved from one corridor to the next during her search, opening doors and peering into vacant, disused bedrooms for overlooked clues. When she reached the once-forbidden fourth floor, an electric jolt buzzed over her skin and raised every fine hair on her arms.

  Here was where she’d find her answers. She passed landscape watercolors and portraits of unfamiliar, red-haired monarchs dressed in furs, leathers, and the same green tartan pattern Alistair had worn.

  How could she have dreamed up such a pattern with perfect accuracy? Had she seen it in a history book perhaps? Her belly sank, and nervous butterflies took flight within it as she advanced down the corridor. Each step echoed, and at any moment, she thought Beast would thunder into the hall and find her snooping despite his previous day’s decision to grant her access to the entire castle.

  “Alistair?” she called in a loud whisper, too afraid to shout.

  She opened another door and found a bedroom. Unlike others she had come across, this one held a variety of personal objects, and clothes were laid out over the bed. A gleaming sword with dragons etched into the blade leaned against the footboard. Its blade stretched nearly as long as she stood tall. Imagining it in Alistair’s hands, she smiled and ran her fingers over the cool metal. It had to be his. The room smelled like him, and although he wasn’t there with her, his sense of presence remained, like a ghost lingering over her shoulder, like he’d been there but she arrived moments too late to catch him.

  Was he a ghost, a trapped spirit awaiting freedom from the past?

  She hoped not, praying she’d find him alive.

  The next room projected a similar sensation of occupancy, though it was as vacant as all the chambers before it. The hearth glowed hot and bright like every other room with a fireplace in the castle. A small, round table with three chairs sat a short distance away from the flames. Gold-rimmed plates, ornately fashioned silverware, and crystal goblets occupied each place setting.

  “This must be where the royal family took their meals together.”

  Beast had told her the Oclanders preferred intimate family settings over the impersonal dining halls of the western kingdoms.

  The hearth sparked, an ember leaping out from the fireplace onto the stone. She glanced at it again, and then her breath caught in her throat.

  She found him.

  Above the mantle, an exquisite oil painting depicted three people. A statuesque woman with waist-length, ginger hair stood beside an equally tall, dark-haired man. His strong jaw and strange, golden eyes struck her as familiar. Between them, a boy on the cusp of manhood leaned against the woman’s side, and a strong familial resemblance told her the boy was their son. He had the same nose and squared face as his father, but his mother’s fair coloring.

  It was the same face she’d seen in her dreams, albeit years younger, no older than twelve or thirteen.

  “Alistair,” Anastasia whispered. The discovery became her motivation to resume a feverish search of the upper level. Being in his home made her feel closer to him, a man who existed somewhere beyond her mind. A man who needed her and depended on her help.

  But no matter where she looked or how long she searched, Anastasia found no sign of the lost prince. He may as well have been a figment of her imagination, after all.

  Chapter

  “ANA COULD BE the one, Alistair. What will you do if she’s the one able to break your curse and restore your humanity?” Hora asked. She drifted in the breeze, an ethereal blur of muted colors beneath the afternoon sun.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Miss you, perhaps. Rejoice that my life isn’t over. Try to live up to the standard my parents have set as rulers to this kingdom.” He sighed. “Restore Ocland.”

  Hora chuckled and raised her face toward the sky. “Sometimes when I stand like this, it’s almost as if I’m alive again.”

  “I wish you were alive again. There are few things I wouldn’t give to keep you here with me always, Nan.”

  “Don’t fib, little one. You were long adjusted to my being gone when Eos created this curse. Though I’ve appreciated every moment in this strange, counterfeit excuse for a life.”

  “You’re right. But I will always miss you. If only I knew what to do about Anastasia. My heart tells me I must release her from our bloodpact if we’re ever to have true love, but my mind… my mind fears death. There are mere days left to me. What if it isn’t enough time?”

  “She loves you, Alistair. Perhaps the girl hasn’t said it, but she does. I see it in the way she looks at you each day. You’re comfortable with each other.”

  Alistair growled. “Comfort isn’t love.”

  “I once changed your diapers, little one. Your growls mean nothing to me. Look, as I see it, the girl’s captivity ceased many weeks ago, and she has since become a guest—a protected guest who is practically a member of the household. She has nowhere to go and enjoys your company.” Hora touched his chest, splaying her fingers over the scales above his heart. “Tell her what she means to you, beyond the curse, but deep inside here.”

  “I do not want to lose her, Hora. What if you are wrong? What if she desires freedom more than me? Eos has played a dangerous game by tangling our dreams together, but what Ana loves is a human body I may never have.”

  “Anastasia has a kind heart,” the ghost disagreed. “Trust in her to see the clues Eos has woven between you. Now seek her out and do as your heart tells you. Are you a chicken or a dragon?”

  He chuckled quietly and rose to his clawed feet.

  “A chicken would be braver. I should know. I was once chased by them as a cub.”

  The setting sun turned the sky into a canvas painted with watercolors. Pink, lilac, and golden-orange washed across the horizon. Sometimes, she missed the world below the mountain, and at other times, the castle felt like the home she’d enjoyed as a little girl. The safe haven her father destroyed by handing her over to Dalborough’s royal family.

  Beast trudged into view from the eastern castle grounds, his flank ruby in the dwindling light.

  “There you are!” Ana cried. She set aside the cup of chamomile and rose from her seat. He met her at the balcony rail with what she’d come to think of as a grin on his draconic face. The expression showed his teeth, but it never frightened her. If anything, she felt comforted by knowing her kind host was in high spirits.

  “Apologies for my tardiness,” he rumbled. “Hora felt I was in need of her counsel, so I’ve come with news.”

  “Oh? About what?”

  He shook his head shyly, but the same hint of a toothy smile remained. “What occupied your day?” he asked, practicing the usual redirection to divert focus back on her.

  “I… I explored the fourth floor.”

  The sound of her racing heart nearly drowned out Beast’s muted, “Ah.” His good humor faded, but the dragon didn’t raise his voice or accuse her
of trespassing. He only looked upon her with somber eyes. “And what, dear princess, did you discover?”

  “I like the dinner table,” she told him.

  Beast chuckled, a soft and short-lived sound.

  “Could there be someone else here, Beast?” she said in a rush, gathering her courage. “Someone you know nothing about since most of the castle is inaccessible to you, I mean.”

  “There is no one else, Princess. No one. No one currently lives in this castle but the two of us.”

  “But there’s Hora.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Beast, would you permit me to look at the dungeons? I tried the door a few moments ago, but it requires a key.”

  “Anastasia, there is no one below, in this you have my word and solemn vow. The dungeons are not safe and no place for you to be. It is a foul place without light or life where many soldiers of Dalborough saw their last days.”

  “Oh.” She deflated and dropped her shoulders, sighing. If Beast knew there were no people in the dungeon, then she believed him. She trusted him.

  “Do you think you could love a beast like me, Anastasia?”

  He hadn’t asked the question in days, if not weeks. She couldn’t recall the last time he’d voiced the strange, albeit pitiful inquiry. It tugged her heart, and this time, her eyes burned with tears when she answered. “Yes. I love you very much, Beast.”

  Her dragon’s eyes grew large, and she realized he was holding his breath, as if waiting for something. When nothing happened, a frown overtook his face. “I see. Then you are free.”

  “Of course I’m free,” she said, laughing. “I’ve never been made to feel like a prisoner.”

  “No, I mean….” Beast huffed, the warm plume of air ruffling the hem of her dress. “I am setting you free, Anastasia. Free to return home and take your mother the flower she needs. Free to live your life however you choose.”

  His words struck her, a verbal lance to her heart. They fell over Ana with the same shock as a bucket of cold water, dousing the effervescent mood inspired by discovering her prince wasn’t a product of her lonely mind’s need for human companionship.