Her Ugly Monster (book 1)

by Kaylee Rymer

  Ivy gasped. Luckily, Sir Varius came to her rescue.

  “Now that is no way to speak to a lady.” He got down on one knee again and took her hand. “Ivy, sweet flower of the earth, I would be honoured to buy you the finest drink. In fact.” Sir Varius stood and addressed the room. “I will buy drinks for all my fellow patrons tonight.”

  The whole tavern cheered. Weegel glowered up at Sir Varius, but all he could make out was that dazzling white smile.

  A blunder of trolls gathered around Sir Varius and patted his back. Faeries danced around his head, and the goblins shook his hand.

  Willowy barmaids glided around the tables, handing out tankards of ale. Stannog only employed fae people, so the barmaids were mostly dryads and nymphs. They were beautiful and moved like silk.

  One with shimmering gold eyes approached Ivy and poured her wine in a silver goblet.

  “Fermented for one hundred years for the lovely girl,” the barmaid said in a musical voice.

  Ivy took the goblet and sipped. She didn’t seem to like it, but for Sir Varius, she kept it back. “It’s delicious. Thank you.”

  The dryad smiled sweetly and shot Weegel a toxic glare. “What are you looking at?”

  Weegel lowered his cowl. “And hello to you too, Laurel.”

  She made a sound of derision and glided towards the bar. Her long hair swayed side to side as she disappeared into the crowd.

  Suppose Weegel deserved her hostility for never replying to her love letters. He’d even killed and eaten the doves she’d used to send them, and her letters made for good tinder.

  Everyone got their free drinks. The giant drank from a keg while the faeries sipped from the tiniest of glasses.

  Sir Varius sat beside Ivy all night, talking her ear off while her laughs drifted towards the bar.

  Weegel had joined his good old friend Stannog again — the only friend he had at the tavern, and even he didn’t like Weegel much.

  The tavern wouldn’t stop spinning. Everything became a blur. Voices, faces, even names.

  Weegel would do anything to go home. A part of him considered leaving Ivy with the charming Sir Varius. What did he care? She could have him if she was stupid enough to fall for his facade. In fact, she can stay with him from now on.

  He turned in his stool and watched them from across the room. Ivy had found the confidence to pull her hood down, and now her beautiful flower crown was back on display.

  The knight played with a lock of her shiny hair, and her giggles pealed like tiny bells.

  Weegel’s heart beat twice as fast at the sound. If only she could laugh that way with him.

  Now the knight cupped his hand over her cheek, and Ivy closed her eyes. His thumb grazed her lips, and she vanished under his spell.

  Something clogged Weegel’s airway, making it hard to breathe. He looked away, clutching his chest.

  It felt like Sir Varius was squeezing his heart.

  “He’s much better looking than you. You’re nothing but an ugly monster, admit it. Ugly monster, ugly monster, ugly...”

  “Ya really goin’ to leave her trapped in that spider’s web?”

  Weegel startled and looked across the bar. Stannog was glaring at him.

  “Well?” the ogre said.

  Weegel grabbed his flagon and put on his most convincing sneer. Hopefully, Stannog hadn’t noticed his moment of weakness.

  “A pretty spider though, isn’t he?”

  He lifted the flagon to his lips, but Stannog yanked it from his hand and poured it down the sink.

  “Hey!” Weegel yelled, covered in black frothy liquid.

  The ogre leaned over the bar. “Get the lass home and away from that thing.”

  Weegel smirked. “Since when did you start loving humans?”

  Stannog bared his teeth. “I may not like her kind, but I’m not about to stand here and watch some poor girl succumb to that creature, and neither should you. Ya brought her here, now take her home.”

  Weegel rubbed his drunken eyes and twisted around in his stool. Sir Varius stopped caressing her lips, finally, and stroked her hair instead. Their conversation drifted to the bar.

  “You poor thing,” he cried.

  “He’s not so bad, really,” Ivy said. Sadness laced her voice.

  Weegel perked up. Were they talking about him?

  She continued. “He’s crude and selfish, but he did take me in. I could be dead now if it weren’t for him.”

  “But at the expense of your necklace? Only a creature so wicked could pull such a trick.”

  Weegel scratched his head. What necklace? He grumbled and massaged his temples. Oh, that necklace. He’d actually forgotten about it for a moment.

  “My mother taught me to see the good in everyone,” Ivy said, “but I really have to try with him. He did bring me here for my birthday after all.”

  “Well, he did a good thing there. We would have never met.”

  Weegel stuck his tongue out. Sir Varius was such a smooth talker.

  “You can’t continue to stay with him,” the knight went on. “He’s a monster. He’s no good for you. I have my charger outside. We can go before anyone notices us leave.”

  The blood rushed through Weegel’s ears, and he scrambled out of his seat.

  The stool gave way, and he fell to the cold, dirty floor. Laughter erupted around him, but he got back on his feet, locking his eyes on Sir Varius.

  “No!”

  14. Ivora

  Ivora turned towards the bar, and the hair pricked on the back of her neck.

  Weegel’s lips pulled up tight, revealing his sharp, pointed fangs. Her heart raced. He looked dead, animal-like, and she was scared for her life.

  He shot forward and Ivora yelped, latching onto Sir Varius for protection. Glasses smashed to the floor as Weegel crashed into the table, spilling wine everywhere.

  Ivora felt his hot breath against her neck, and she buried her face into Sir Varius’ shoulder.

  Yet the knight remained still, a solid rock of a man. No warmth radiated off his body, not like the scorching air coming from Weegel’s lips.

  Finally, she looked up.

  The worcog and the knight glared into each other’s eyes, neither one backing down. Sir Varius’ expression was neutral, and he didn’t flinch, even as Weegel growled inches from his face.

  “Weegel. What are you doing?” she said.

  The worcog never took his eyes off the knight. “Ivy... head to the door. I’ll hold him off.”

  Ivora blinked. “Excuse me?”

  Weegel threw her a quick glance, and she gasped at the sight of his pupils. They were thin and tapered, and a chill went through her spine.

  His eyes softened next, and his pupils rounded to their full black. “Go to the door,” he said, his voice less demanding. “I won’t be far behind.”

  Ivora glanced around the room. All the patrons stared. Some shocked, others amused, but the ogre had picked up a mace.

  Alarmed, Ivora scrambled to her feet and joined Weegel on the other side of the table. She gazed down, unable to look the knight in his gorgeous eyes. “I’m sorry, Sir Varius, but I have to decline your offer. Thank you for the drinks, but I must leave with my friend.”

  The knight sat as still as a statue. He didn’t breathe, which, again, Ivora found odd.

  She peered up. The knight looked straight through her now, and her skin broke out in gooseflesh. It seemed she’d become a ghost.

  His eyes moved back to Weegel, and they darkened to a navy. “Very well. I shall find my fun some other way.”

  Ivora stared, aghast. What did he mean by fun? And... why had his eyes changed colour?

  Weegel pushed Ivora towards the door, and a murmur broke out across the room. They reached the stone wall. The door appeared, and just as Weegel took a hold of the handle, Sir Varius said, “Maybe one day when you’re bored with the worcog, sweet Ivy, you can come back and find me.”

  A low growl emitted from Weegel’s jaws, and he dr
ew out a dagger and ran towards the knight.

  Ivora screamed. “Weegel! No!”

  He placed the dagger at Sir Varius’ throat, wheezing and panting. “You’ll never see her again. I’ll kill you before I let you lay another finger on her head!”

  Ivora tried to pry him away from the knight. “Weegel, come on. Let’s go.”

  He ignored her, keeping his dagger on Sir Varius.

  The ogre walked out from behind the bar and pointed the mace at Weegel. “No knives in my tavern. Leave now, or I’ll have Harris throw ya out!”

  The giant rubbed his massive hands together, a gleeful look on his face.

  Weegel barely seemed to register the ogre’s words, and Ivora wished he would. That mace looked sharp.

  A sly smile spread across Sir Varius’ sculpted lips. “You know full well, little worcog, that that dagger can’t harm me.”

  Weegel chuckled. “Well, I’m willing to give it a try.”

  The knight’s face darkened, and then his arm shot forth and seized a hold of Weegel’s throat.

  The dagger clattered to the floor, and Weegel gasped for air.

  “Stop!” Ivora cried.

  His face turned blue, and she rushed forward to free Weegel from the knight. She didn’t care what he’d do to her, so long as he stopped hurting Weegel.

  The ogre slammed the mace across the table, and Ivora jumped back. Sir Varius snapped to his senses and let go of Weegel.

  Weegel buckled to the ground, and Ivora dropped to his side. Wheezy breaths escaped his lungs, but then his eyes found Ivora, and he gave a weak smile. “Ivy...”

  She cried for joy. For a moment she truly thought she’d lost him, and she held him tight. Weegel’s eyes closed, but she knew he was all right for the gentle rising of his chest.

  She scowled up at Sir Varius, but the knight pretended as if she weren’t there.

  The ogre pulled the mace back up from the table and pointed it at the knight. “You’ve had yer fun, bat, now leave.”

  All the barmaids released a simultaneous moan.

  Sir Varius gave them an apologetic shrug and looked to the ogre. “My most sincere apologies, Stannog. As a long-time patron, you know I only come here with the best of intention.”

  The ogre looked down at Ivora. “Yeah, if ya say so. Now off with ya.”

  The knight marched towards the exit, whistling a merry tune. Ivora fumed. How could he be so cheerful after he nearly choked Weegel to death?

  A horse whinnied outside, and then a sound of galloping hooves followed.

  Everyone turned to Ivora. Her cheeks flushed, and she leaned close to Weegel.

  “Weegel, wake up.”

  Nothing.

  She shook him now, getting desperate. “Come on. Time to go.”

  Weegel stirred at last, and his mouth stretched into a grin. “Ivy,” he cried, reaching up to pat her cheek.

  Ivora lifted him to his feet and dragged him to the door. He sniggered, “I think one of us has had a bit too much to drink. I’m disappointed in you, Ivy.”

  She rolled her eyes. Finally, she made it to the door. The ogre stopped her before she left and handed her Weegel’s lantern. Ivora couldn’t believe she almost left without it.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  The ogre scowled at her, and she regretted thanking him.

  “Remember for next time, lass,” he growled, hovering close so she could see all the pockmarks of his face. “Humans beware...”

  All the patrons murmured in agreement.

  Ivora pushed through the door, and the cold night air seized her lungs. Her eyes landed on the forest, and her stomach dropped.

  How was she going to drag Weegel through all that?

  “You have to focus now, Weegel. I can’t drag you all the way back to the mountain by myself.”

  Weegel gazed around. “When did we even get outside?”

  “Weegel!”

  “All right!” he snapped and straightened his posture. He staggered towards the forest, and Ivora followed.

  He ducked under a tree root, hissing in pain when he banged his head. “Stupid tree.”

  “Well, next time don’t drink so much,” she said.

  Weegel rubbed his head, giving her a sour look. “And next time don’t be so stupid to fall for a vampire’s spell. Oh, Sir Varius, you are so handsome. Let me play with your gigantic sword!”

  Ivora froze, feeling her blood run cold. “What... what did you say?”

  “Gigantic sword?” he replied.

  “No. That... other thing...”

  Weegel shut his eyes and blew a breath from his lips. “You heard me.”

  Ivora’s entire body prickled with goosebumps, and the cold night air seemed to choke her lungs. Her legs gave way, and she held onto a tree.

  She’d noticed something was off with the knight, but never would she have dreamed he could be...

  “No... I refuse to believe it.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. You’ve met everything else tonight. What’s one vampire?”

  “Stop saying it!”

  Her voice echoed through the forest.

  Weegel leaned back against a tree and rubbed his eyes. “Look... I know it’s hard to take in, especially if you’ve believed your whole life that vampires are hideous creatures, but trust me, he’s a vamp. A famous one too. You’ve never heard of the Roseblood dynasty? They’ve been dead for centuries. That should have been your first clue. Then again, you humans believe him to be dead, but we magical folk know better.”

  Ivora trembled. A sharp wind bit her cheeks, and she wrapped her cloak around her body. “I... just want to go home now.”

  Weegel stepped away from the tree and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Come. I’ll take you home like I promised.”

  She nodded and shivered once again.

  Weegel led her back, stumbling and falling whenever he tried to climb a root, but they soon found the clearing, and before long they were back in the pine-scented woods of the human realm.

  Every muscle relaxed in Ivora’s body. The dark pine seemed so much tamer compared to the giant trees of the fae world.

  Weegel took the lamp and used it to guide their way back.

  Ivora headed up the tunnel when they got back, yearning for the softness of her heather bed, but Weegel grabbed her shoulder.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  Ivora wriggled her shoulder free from his grip. “To bed. I’m tired.”

  Weegel stumbled for words. “But... but it’s your birthday. There’s still time to celebrate!”

  He shook with agitation, and Ivora backed off a step. “Are you all right?”

  Weegel gazed at his feet, trying to avoid her eyes. “I... could really do with the company.”

  Ivora studied him. It seemed he was terrified to be alone tonight. So she agreed to join him, and he led her into the kitchen.

  He plopped her down into a seat. “Wait here.”

  Ivora watched as he disappeared inside a nook and tossed pots and pans aside. Then he reemerged, holding up two red bottles.

  Her stomach lurched. “Really, more wine?”

  “Well, I don’t have any goat-smelling ale if that’s what you prefer. Besides, I stole these off a cargo boat a few years back. Imported from Fantalia. Should be good.”

  Ivora raised a brow. “Is there anything you own that hasn’t been stolen?”

  Weegel snickered and leaned over to tap her nose. “Oh, you...”

  He poured the wine into two cups and passed one to her. Ivora peered into her cup, staring at her reflection.

  Blood. It looked like blood, and she had an image of Sir Varius sitting alone in his empty castle. He drank the blood of his latest victim from a golden goblet, a pile of bodies lying at his feet. Ivora’s face was amongst the dead, her eyes frozen and lifeless as they gazed at the ceiling.

  Ivora put the cup aside and shuddered.

  Weegel looked up. “What’s wrong?”

  She couldn’t m
eet his eyes, knowing full well that her own would betray her.

  He put his cup down on the table. “Ivy?”

  A tear slipped down her cheek. “I... can’t believe I... almost...”

  A breeze swept through the cave, and she trembled beneath her cloak. Weegel sat down beside her, letting his hand hover over hers for a moment, before tucking it away.

  Ivora grabbed his hand and held it tight. Weegel’s breath hitched, and he swallowed, turning bright red.

  “I’m... sorry for ignoring you all night,” Ivora said.

  Weegel gazed at their interlocking hands and released a shaky sigh. “It’s all right. I shouldn’t have left you to him in the first place, but... seeing you there with him...”

  “Go on?”

  He licked his lips and shook his head. “It’s... nothing.”

  Ivora didn’t press him any further. Her eyes fell on the bruises around his neck, and her gut clenched.

  Sir Varius had done that to him. If she ever saw him again, she would put a stake through his heart.

  “And... I’m sorry I embarrassed you...”

  She looked up at him in shock. “You didn’t embarrass me.”

  Weegel squeezed his eyes and bit his lip. “I... talked about your undergarments in front of the entire tavern. It was wrong of me, and I’m sorry.”

  Ivora cocked a brow, wondering if he was serious. He was.

  She burst out laughing and nudged his shoulder. “You’re so sweet, but I forgive you. This really has been a great birthday after all.”

  She raised her drink. Weegel smiled and did the same, and they drank the night away.

  Soon the cave started spinning, and Ivora felt as if she were on a magical Merry-Go-Round.

  They laughed and joked about everything under the sun. Then they twirled around hand in hand until they fell to the ground in a fit of giggles.

  She’d never been so happy.

  But then things took a turn for the worst. One moment Ivora was spinning and laughing, and the next she was weeping and spouting nonsense.

  Weegel dragged her up the tunnel, and the wind rushed through her ears. When she closed her eyes, she almost heard the ocean.

  Next, he threw her down onto her bed, and she stared up at the dark ceiling. Heather crunched below, wafting up a floral scent, and she shut her eyelids.