Five Enchanted Roses: A Collection of Beauty and the Beast Stories

by Kaycee Browning

  I called her names. I begged for her help. I threatened and coaxed and fumed. Finally, the lock clicked and the door swung open.

  Corwin stood in the gathering shadows outside the shed. I gaped at him, astonished to see him safe and sound. “What is happening?” I exclaimed. “Is it another breach? Are you injured?”

  “Do lower your voice. Everything is quite safe,” Corwin said. He stepped back to allow me to join him outside.

  I floundered at his calm. I could still hear Quarrel barking, his howls short and frantic. “Well, I thought—I mean, the Abbey locked me in!”

  “Occasionally Briarstone will do things to protect you,” he continued, still annoyingly serene. He glanced over his shoulder and lowered his tone. “It’s best simply to trust her.”

  “Trust her to what? Lock me up?” I planted my hands on my hips. “You cannot be serious. I am not the kind of woman you lock up to keep safe, Corwin.”

  His expression flickered for the first time. “No,” he said, even more softly. “I know you are not, but there was no danger. Nothing for you to be upset about.”

  I should have been relieved, but instead I felt only irritation. Granted, Corwin no longer treated me quite like a prisoner. The Lonely no longer followed me around like nervous jailors. But I was still forbidden to leave the Abbey grounds. Considering Corwin’s circumstances, I’d been generous in giving him allowances for ill behavior. But this was insufferable.

  “What is wrong with Quarrel then? I can hear him howling plain as day,” I accused, waving a hand in the general direction of the ruckus. “What are you not telling me? I have a right to know.”

  “No, you do not,” he replied without a moment’s hesitation, his voice once again a growl. “It is my responsibility to decide what is best for us.” He turned and began to stalk away, his body lurching as he favored his bad knee. The tips of his leathery wings dragged in the grass behind him.

  Us. I swallowed hard, suddenly uneasy. He said it so casually. Us. I knew exactly what he meant when he said it. And I didn’t like it.

  I hurried to catch up with him. “No matter your reasons or good intentions, I have a right to the truth! Why must you be so childish?”

  He spun to face me. “You think I am childish?” he exclaimed, one finger pointed at me in accusation. “After everything I have told you, everything you have seen here, do you think so little of me?”

  I did not speak immediately because my pride felt wounded. “Perhaps I should have chosen my words with more care,” I conceded stiffly. “But how can you expect me to think better of you when you do not behave better?”

  “I am not the one who behaves badly,” he said. “I do what I must to protect us. You do what you do because you are stubborn. And foolish. And would choose to desert me the moment I gave you leave. In spite of all I have told you. In spite of how desperately I need you.”

  As he turned his face away from me, I felt my heart begin to thud. Here it came again, the dreaded proposal. Why must it always come back to this? Why could he not ask me to stay with him as a fellow soldier? Why must it be as a wife? I had grown to respect him. Indeed, I had. And I wanted to help him. But to marry him would require something I wasn’t willing to give.

  I waited for him to ask and prepared to refuse yet again. I felt as if something were straining inside me. I did not want to hurt him, but I simply could not marry him.

  In the dying light of day, Corwin turned his face back toward me, his mouth twisted. The expression in his eyes plagued me. He looked as if he were about to cut off his own foot.

  “I love you, Lilybet,” he said.

  I felt my face slacken in shock.

  He winced and stepped closer. “Perhaps it is insane, perhaps it makes no sense, but I do. I am asking you to share my life.” He hesitated but then reached an open palm to me. “I am offering you my heart. Is there no part of you that loves me back? No small part at all?”

  I searched for words but could not find them. A simple no did not seem sufficient, not when this man—this beast—was pouring out his heart with such fervor. I looked inside myself, searching for that small part.

  It was impossible. Wasn’t it?

  Even if I had grown to respect him, that did not mean I loved him. I pressed my lips together and said nothing. I did not want to cut him with harsh words, but I feared gentle words would give him hope.

  It was Corwin who broke the silence at last, and he sounded defeated. “I see,” he mumbled.

  Something wrenched inside me. “I am sorry I cause you such pain, but I cannot give you what you want. Perhaps if you gave me more time, if you let me go home and see my family. I would return! I swear I would.”

  He stirred abruptly. “You cannot leave me!” Fear laced his voice. “I will die without you.”

  “Oh Corwin,” I groaned. “No one actually dies from a broken heart.”

  He stared at me. “I will.”

  I had nothing to say to this. What was a girl supposed to say when a monster threatens to keel over if she withholds her affection from him? It was ludicrous. It was—

  Someone shouted.

  Corwin jerked in the direction of the sound. “Go inside,” he ordered, spitting the words as though his mouth were once more full of my poisoned blood.

  “Why? Who is that?”

  “Go inside, Lilybet!” He seemed on the verge of panic, as if wraiths were about to jump out of the ground and consume me. The voice called again, this time louder. It did not sound like a wraith to me.

  It sounded like the Spook.

  Had Papa sent men to fetch me home? My heart lurched at the thought. No wonder Corwin was in such a panic. “There is someone here?” I demanded. “And you were not going to tell me?” I skirted around him and broke into a run.

  “Bet, wait!” Corwin shouted. I heard him stumbling to follow. “Please wait!”

  I ignored him and ran harder, pounding down the narrow path toward the gate. Around me the shadows continued to deepen. I rounded the corner of the Abbey and saw Quarrel ahead of me. He loped toward me as I made for the cobblestone walkway that led from the main entrance to the gate. I hastened past stone gargoyles and skidded to a halt as Quarrel moved to block my way. He growled at me.

  “Come on, boy,” I huffed and outstretched a hand. “Don’t be like that.”

  “Bet, is that you?” someone called.

  “Yes, it’s me!” I shouted back. “Victor?”

  “Yes,” the voice said from the other side of the briars. “Your father sent me. I can’t get past the gate.”

  “No, the Abbey won’t let you in.” I tried to move around Quarrel, but he snapped at me. I stumbled back. I did not believe he would actually bite me, but he was certainly upset.

  “I need to speak with you. It’s important,” Victor said. “It’s about your sister.”

  “My sister? Which one? What’s happened?”

  “Hang on. I will try to climb over.”

  I twisted to look behind me, but I did not see Corwin yet. Surely he would have caught up to me by now. “I don’t know if you should,” I warned. “Just tell me what’s happened!”

  “It’s Sookie,” the Spook said. “The curse has taken her.”

  It was as if a fist drove the air from me. “But how?” I managed. “Her birthday isn’t for weeks yet—”

  “The Spinner was mistaken about the particulars. It was that other girl’s birthday. Not Sookie’s.”

  I tried to comprehend this, but my thoughts tumbled over and over. Something moved in the dark gray sky, and I looked up in time to see Corwin, wings outspread, plummeting from above. He hit the ground so hard it shook, scattering pebbles in all directions. I turned toward him as he lifted himself up from a crouch, his wings unfurled behind him, tattered like an old flag whipped by violent winds.

  Corwin stared at me, his shoulders hitching with uneven breaths. “Please,” he gasped. “Please, don’t leave me.”

  He looked bereft, his eyes fixed on m
e as if he were trying to memorize a face he feared he would never see again. The transparency of his emotions only frightened me more. I felt the panic building inside me. I could not do this anymore, torn in two different directions by my conflicting feelings for this beast.

  He stumbled toward me, arm outstretched. I saw the rose for the first time.

  “We were dying until you came,” he said, the words shaking as they flowed from him. He held the rose toward me, not moving until I took it. “I’ve been trying to tell you how important you are. To us. To me. Please stay.”

  My fingers curled around the rose stem, the thorns digging into my calloused palm. “I need to go, Corwin,” I said, my voice scarcely more than a whisper. “Victor says my sister is in trouble.”

  “I know,” he said, “but if you leave, we will not survive.”

  He knew about Sookie. And he had planned to keep it from me. The realization struck me with such painful force, I almost dropped the rose. When I regained my ability to speak, I heard my own voice snarling through my teeth: “There isn’t a trick you won’t try, is there?”

  I spun back toward the gate, having made my decision. I would leave now or die trying. “Out of my way, Quarrel.”

  He whined and nipped my sleeve, ripping it as he tried to hold me back.

  “Bet, please!”

  I ignored the agony in Corwin’s voice, convinced it was all just a part of his game to keep me here. “Let me out!” I shouted.

  Much to my surprise, the briar wall obeyed, peeling back, and the gate flew open as if hurled by invisible hands, slamming against the wall with a clatter of wrenching iron and cracking stone. Victor stumbled backward in the nick of time, his body poised for a fight. Behind him, two horses nickered and jerked against the restraints tying them to a tree.

  I ran through the gate.

  Corwin cried out behind me. I clutched the rose in my hand and fled.

  Chapter 16

  Corwin

  I FELT MY heart cracking down the middle, as if it were already an organ of stone and not flesh and blood. Briarstone began to tremble as I stumbled back into the Abbey. She sent me tumultuous images of the catacombs, of weak places bulging and straining as the pressure from the Underworld abruptly intensified. There were dozens of them all at once.

  It was as if the underworlders knew that Bet had left me.

  I stumbled through the main entrance. Dawn flew toward me. “Get out of here!” I bellowed to her. “Go!”

  She hesitated, but when I shouted again, she disappeared down the hall leading to the kitchens. I followed after her toward the new stairwell to the catacombs. Every step was agony. Every step took me further away from the one person in the world who mattered to me.

  But I didn’t matter to her.

  Briarstone moaned from the assault, snatching at my meager store of strength to fend off the attacks. They were happening everywhere simultaneously. I staggered and fell to my knees, trying to shore up the defenses until the attack dissipated.

  But the assault only intensified. The pain ripped through my awareness as Briarstone began to shudder. She was breaking beneath the strain, already brittle beyond reason. Bet had been our only hope.

  We were both going to die.

  Sensing my distress, Briarstone moved beneath me, rearranging herself until a hole opened up beneath me. I plummeted into the darkness, into the catacombs. As I flung out my wings and let them fill with air to slow my descent, the screams of the wraiths filled my ears.

  They began to spill into the catacombs, and with them came the stench of death.

  I spread out my awareness, trying to aid Briarstone. Her thoughts were too frantic now for me to keep up with. I spread myself painfully thin, the pressure tearing me in too many directions. I tried to grit my teeth and continue.

  I had lost Bet. I had broken my vows. I had failed my calling.

  It was simply more than I could bear.

  Chapter 17

  Bet

  I FELT HIS agony.

  Victor and I had traveled barely half a mile from the Abbey. The shadows continued to lengthen around us, transitioning from grey to black. The wind hissed through the trees and pulled at my hair as I rode.

  Corwin was in pain, so much pain. I could feel it like a knife in my chest. I felt his pain the same way I felt Dawn’s sorrow and Twilight’s anger.

  Tears pressed against my eyes. I could not go back: I had to go to Sookie. My sister needed me.

  But perhaps Corwin had not been exaggerating. He also needed me.

  I pulled my horse to a stop and shouted for Victor as I swung my leg over and slid out of the saddle. I felt the ground shuddering beneath my feet. The Spook twisted to catch sight of me. His mare pranced in a circle until he urged her back up the path.

  I looked back toward Briarstone, at the towers rising above the treetops. I heard a rumble like distant thunder. Was I foolish to feel this concern? Corwin could not possibly be dying of a broken heart!

  I suddenly imagined him among the other gargoyles at Briarstone, unmoving, lifeless, and stone.

  A different sort of pain filled me. This pain belonged to no one but me. I peeled back my fingers to reveal the flower I still clutched in my hand. The rose shriveled in my grasp, the petals peeling away like burning paper.

  Withering.

  Another wave of pain hit me. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth against it. I felt it as if a tether somehow bound me to him and to Briarstone. Bullets of their pain ricocheted back to me, again and again.

  “We shouldn’t linger. Bet? Are you all right?” I heard Victor ask, but the echo of Corwin’s pain would not go away.

  What must it feel like to him?

  Chapter 18

  Corwin

  I WOULD NOT die without a fight. I would make one last stand, the sort that could be remembered in legends.

  Only I knew that my story would never be told. No one would remember my sacrifice. No one would remember beautiful, tenacious Briarstone and the day she crumbled to dust. No one would remember the day I turned to stone.

  No one except Bet, perhaps. Would she remember us?

  I landed in a crouch on the dirt floor of the catacombs. I felt the heat of the breaches as they ripped open, flooding the tunnels with the Underworld’s sulfuric stench. Perhaps this had always been the Ever’s plan. If He had chosen to leave this task to me, and me alone, I was duty-bound to strive on until the end. I had kicked against the brutal truth of my destiny for long enough.

  It was time to embrace my destiny, to join my family at last.

  As I plunged into the catacombs, I asked the Ever for one last portion of strength. I continued to give myself to Briarstone. I felt my skin splitting. The cracks were ripping me open. I saw the shadow and fire billowing up the passageway ahead as the wraiths ripped the Abbey open from the inside out.

  I saw several of them spiraling toward me. I bared my teeth and stalked onward. I felt no fear. I had been born to do this. I would not stop until I had finished what was started by my ancestors long ago.

  The wraiths hit me with blinding force, trying to drive me backward as I strove to drive forward. I bellowed and begged for the Ever’s assistance as I hit the wraiths with my echoes. They shrieked, recoiled, and attacked again. One of them slipped past me, and I swung an arm. A portion of the tunnel wall broke free and crushed the wraith against the opposite wall.

  The others recoiled, as if regrouping. I regrouped as well.

  All these years I had waited, living on mere stories of glorious days when the Ever Father spoke to us. With me there had always been silence. But was this because He had abandoned me? Or because I had abandoned Him? Because I abandoned hope and embraced fear?

  I thought of Bet and felt a wrenching shame that mingled with the agony. I’d had no right to bring her here. It was only just that I return the life I had stolen.

  The wraiths attacked again. Even as they hurled themselves toward me, Briarstone threw an image at me, an ima
ge of another tunnel on the south side of the catacombs, overflowing with wraiths. I risked shifting my focus to help her rip apart the tunnel ceiling, caving in that section of the catacombs.

  A wraith slammed into me and drove me back. Perhaps this was the moment when I would finally give my last. I was ready. I was willing.

  I felt something then. A stirring in the air. Quiet and unseen.

  I wasn’t alone. Not really.

  I knew suddenly what I must do, as if the words had been spoken to me out loud and not quietly impressed upon my thoughts. Perhaps I could still find a way to stop the wraiths. But it would require sacrifice.

  I could still feel Bet. The connection was weakening. I knew that she would feel it too, knew that she would be blinded by pain she couldn’t even understand.

  I could not, would not bring her down with me. I could save her. Perhaps I could save them both—Bet and Briarstone. But I had to let go.

  A life for a life.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, though I knew she would never hear the words. I closed my eyes and imagined the connection between us. I felt it, wrapped my awareness around it until it was all I knew.

  Then I broke it clean in two.

  Chapter 19

  Bet

  SOMETHING SNAPPED INSIDE me. An awful calm settled in its wake, the calm of the blind and deaf. I no longer felt the pain. I no longer felt Corwin. I cradled his rose in my palms. I felt cold and bereft. As I stood there, the rose petals turned to ash and settled against my skin.

  I gasped in horror.

  “Bet, what is it?” Victor asked, jumping down from his horse beside me. I barely felt his hand on my shoulder. “What’s happening?”

  I lifted my eyes to the mountain. The sky darkened as if a terrible black storm swirled around Briarstone. But I knew it wasn’t a normal storm. Somehow it was the result of a wraith army spiraling out of the Underworld, finally breaking free.

  “He’s dying,” I cried as I let the rose stem and ashes fall from my hands and settle to the ground. Victor stared at me, uncomprehending. I caught my horse by the reins, grabbed a fistful of dark mane, and shoved my boot into the stirrup. “I have to return,” I said as I swung my other leg over the mare.