by Alice Wilde
I can’t help but whimper.
The mark will never leave her, but if she will give me the chance, I can ease the pain of it. Ah, yes, she’s looking our way now. I keep up my soft whimpers and try to comfort her with my eyes, though I’m sure I just look ridiculous. I raise my head to meet her hand as soon as she’s within the limits of my chains, nuzzling her in a way I hope comforts her.
To my surprise, she drops to the floor and throws her arms around me. I freeze for a moment. She doesn’t know how dangerous this is. Not because I would ever want to harm her, but because the human side of me is instantly on fire for her. My desire to have her nearly throws all my good sense out the window. It takes every ounce of control left in me not to pounce on her as my breath mixes with the scent of her skin.
My voice vibrates with the tension and I can only hope she takes it as purr and not the call to mate that it really is. I have to concentrate on the mark. I nuzzle her until she moves enough for me to be able to touch it. I steal myself and then gently drag my tongue across her skin. She tenses, but only for a moment. The taste of her skin sends blood coursing throughout my body. It is a rare moment when I’m thankful for the thick white fur clothing me.
I do my best to clear my mind, instead concentrating on the task at hand and making sure I don’t lick her hard enough to take the skin off.
Before I was cursed, I spent many years training as a healer, among other things. Thankfully, whatever magic I managed to develop in that time seems to have translated over into this body, though so far it seems to be limited to healing visible wounds and easing pain. There’s nothing I can do for internal wounds or illnesses.
I feel the mark crust and then soften under each pass of my tongue. I finally pull away from her embrace when I can do no more. I try to feign cat-like innocence by preening the fur on my own chest, but I can’t keep from peeking to make sure the mark has healed.
A fierce hatred for Damien rises up in me as my eyes trace the scar the mark has left, but I’m surprised when I see the scar has healed far better than any I’ve tried to heal before.
I can feel my bond to Annalise growing stronger, and it frightens me how much I want her, but know I shouldn’t…
Whatever it takes, I swear on my family’s souls, I will make Damien pay for hurting her.
Ten
Annalise
I had always heard animals could have healing effects on us, but I hadn’t expected the meaning to be so literal. I’m not sure how long I stared at the lines of the scar on my neck after it was so shockingly healed, but as soon as I could pull my eyes away, I grabbed a book from my night table, Dress and Other Courtly Mannerisms, and I returned to the leopards. Curling up on the floor beside them, I soon fall asleep, elegant hairstyles, codpieces, and two-foot-long shoes dancing about in my mind, feeling safer than I’ve felt since Mother died.
A hard knock at my door wakes me. I try to sit up, only to find a massive paw stretched out over my chest. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the leopard was holding my breast on purpose.
The light in the room has dimmed, so it must be growing close to supper. Unable to move, I wait for the door to open, as I’m sure it will. No one ever really waits for an answer.
A moment later, the door swings open and I hear a gasp. Quick footsteps rush toward me and I find myself looking up into Miriam’s face. Thank the gods.
Her expression looks relieved, though she doesn’t say anything. She turns and walks away, soon returning with the handler from the day before. They move in almost perfect synchronicity as they pry me from the leopard’s sleepy paws. Miriam begins to touch up my hair and I watch as the handler replaces the thick chains with jewel-encrusted leather straps matching the leopards’ collars. I almost don’t notice the angry red welts running down the backs of his arms because they are nearly hidden by his leather coat. I wonder if they were inflicted by my betrothed after he had found that the heavier chains had not been replaced the night before.
“Ouch,” I say involuntarily as Miriam accidentally pricks me with a cap pin just as Damien enters my room, followed by Father’s guards, as usual.
“Did she hurt you,” Damien asks, his voice cold as he steps toward me.
I can feel Miriam’s hands shaking as she continues to try to pin my cap in place.
“It was nothing. I’m just not used to pins,” I say, my stomach turning this time for fear of what he might do to her instead of me.
He’s closed the distance between us in a few short strides, inspecting the side of my head as he does so. His fingers brush against the cap where Miriam pricked me.
I am suddenly aware of the leopards’ low growls, though Damien seems to disregard them in their entirety. As he pulls his fingers back, I see just the slightest hint of blood on them. His face distorts as he brings it to his mouth…and tastes it.
He shudders, and for a moment, he looks like he’s about to tear me limb from limb.
My mind whirrs as I am both disgusted and alarmed, but the thought doesn’t remain long. Before I can blink, a crack like thunder sounds. Miriam is lying on the floor beside me, her face a staggering shade of red, Damien’s hand still raised in anger.
“Never draw blood again,” he says, directing his words at the shaking woman without looking toward her.
“I said it was nothing,” I say, shock giving way to anger. “How dare you strike her in my presence!”
His eyes lower to meet mine, black as soot, and I am filled with the desire to retch.
“My future wife will not fain to speak to me in such a way. Do so again and you will meet a fate you won’t soon forget,” he says, his eyes boring into my soul before he bends, pulls Miriam up by her hair, and marches her to the door.
I’m left breathless, as if his eyes have drained part of my soul from me. How can Father ignore the cruelty of this man, no matter how much Damien’s medicine might be helping him?
Casting Miriam from the room, he turns once again and motions for me to follow him. I want to remain frozen, indigent and filled with rage, but my feet don’t listen.
“Bring the beasts.”
I do as I’m bid and take up their leather leashes in my hands. As a quint, we move toward the dining hall.
Father is already seated when we arrive, the guests filling the great hall far fewer than the day before. In the weeks leading up to the wedding, unknown guests will come and go from the castle, feasting with us and otherwise congratulating Father on a match well made. If only I can find one among them who can see Damien for what he truly is—a monster. Perhaps then I could persuade father to release me from my bonds…but first I must find an ally.
We take our seats, the same ones as the night before, and I am instantly forgotten as Damien engages with Father once again. As supper is served, each of the nobles in turn comes to our table and drinks to our union. Not one of them looks at me.
I pick at the food, the sourness in my stomach forcing hunger far from my mind. One of the serving maids starts to pour me a glass of wine when Damien’s hand stops her.
“Not tonight,” he says without so much as a glance our way. “Bring her a draught of licorice root steeped in boiling water.”
My face twists. I hate licorice. But I say nothing as I glance up at the girl imploringly. Shock overwhelms me and my heart skips a beat.
“Rosa,” I murmur, low enough only I can hear.
Her red locks have been tied back and her face is glistening with the sweat of the evening. She’s as beautiful as ever, but her eyes are sunken in exhaustion. She smiles at me, but worry and pain are written plainly across her face.
“Of course, My Lord,” she says as she pulls her hand away from my mug, somehow managing to give me a quick squeeze on the shoulder before disappearing from the table as if she was never there.
I drop my eyes to my lap, tears welling, but I am stopped from crying by a small slip of paper lying in a crease of my dress. I move slowly to take it, my fingers trembling to open it wit
hout being noticed.
You are not alone. The words, as simple as they may be, light a fire in my soul. I knew she wouldn’t forget me. Perhaps I have more allies around me than I know. Damien is conversing with another noble who has come to pay his respects, and apparently offer a rather weighty gift of gold. Taking my chance, I slip the paper into the neckline of my dress and return to picking at the food in front of me.
A steaming cup of licorice tea is placed in front of me, but as I eagerly turn my head toward the girl, I am disappointed to see it is someone I don’t know. Unable to feign hunger at this point, I resolve myself to sipping at the terrible concoction that’s been set before me.
I’m surprised when I find it eases my stomach, but in no way returns my appetite. After what feels like an eternity of sipping the vile liquid, Damien turns to me, his eyes a deep amethyst.
“Drink up, my little treasure,” he says, his voice calm, low, and oddly reassuring.
I’m unsettled by the change in his demeanor, and even more so by his eyes. I recognize those eyes. But as I take a closer look, Damien’s eyes are once again black.
“Hurry,” he demands, pushing the cup to my mouth and watching with relish as I gag the remainder of the liquid down.
“Is there a reason why I am being made to drink this?” I ask.
“It is to promote fertility,” Damien says matter-of-factly, “and you will drink this every night from this day until we are wed.”
His eyes flash sapphire as his eyes shift lower to caress the peaks of my cleavage as he says, his voice as sweet as honey, “Your body, your soul, your blood will rise to meet mine, and I will take you. As soon as we are wed, we will be one. Together.”
I am thrown by the emotion in his words and feel a wetness between my legs that turns to an unwanted ache as Damien’s eyes shift once again to black. Something about his eyes is tugging at the back of my mind, but every time I try to focus on the thought, my head spins.
I spend the rest of the evening sitting in silence as I watch Damien engage with Father and the rest of the guests. I am both amazed and disgusted by how easily he manages to delight, entertain, and otherwise win over every person who approaches him. They are like soft clay in his hands.
The leopards are lying close to me but are unmoving, even as I reach to pet them. Their eyes are glazed, tired, and nearly gold in color.
Looks like I’m not the only one bored to the point of death.
Eleven
The Leopards
Ero
The knock at the door startles me, but doesn’t wake me; I hadn’t fallen asleep. The small breaths escaping Annalise’s mouth were enough to captivate me for the better part of the afternoon. As much as I want to hate her for what she’s doing to my resolve, I can’t. I slowly, lightly place my paw across her breasts. Her heartbeat sends shivers down my spine. Perhaps it’s better I’m more beast than man. At least in my present form, she’s safe from my lust for her.
I feel her shift under me, and my paw spreads involuntarily, cupping one of her breasts. I shut my eyes just as hers open, her blood rising as she realizes she cannot move. I want to woo her, kiss her, show her how a real man could love her, then I shove the thought from my mind. I’m a beast—there’s no use in wishing. And what the hell does love have to do with it? It’s just lust.
It’s obvious we’ve startled Miriam when she rushes over, but I don’t care. Our handler is quick to pry Annalise from our bodies, and I instantly regret the change but do nothing to stop it. I roll over and sit up, watching alongside Li and Roan as our heavy chains are switched out for leashes and Miriam hastens to ready Annalise for Damien’s imminent return. She’s too hasty. I smell blood even before Annalise gasps in pain.
As if on cue, Damien has arrived and is by her side in a moment. The thud as Miriam hits the floor is enough to make your skin crawl. Damien’s growing bold. I’m surprised he’s actually given Annalise a physical display of his temper. Miriam should have been more careful, we all know the consequences a single mistake can bring, but I can’t really fault her for Damien’s wretched behavior.
Li’s already growling, and Roan is watching Miriam in concern as she’s dragged from the room.
My heartbeat rises inexplicably in my chest as Annalise moves to leave with Damien, but it is suddenly calmed as we find out that she’s to take us with her.
Dinner fares me no better. Damien calls me out again and again to flirt and entice various guests throughout the evening. The only moment I don’t half mind is a brief, albeit very blunt remark to Annalise. If only I had more control over what was said instead of only how it was said. Only the essence of my being is used, and certainly not to its best ability.
Damien really knows how to make me feel like a pig.
Damn him. Damn my feelings. Damn it all.
Roan
I see Ero has lost no time getting far too close to Annalise for my liking. Guess I’ll have to share. I have no idea why I just thought that. The idea of having to share her with the others is rolling around my head and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about the idea. Of course, if I had a choice, I’d keep her all to myself.
She’s spirited, reminding me of the lasses back home, but in a way that makes my skin tingle and my…well, other parts of me tingle as well.
For all Ero’s warnings against her, it’s growing harder not to bond with her…and he seems to be having an even harder time of it than I. Though, I’m not sure that what he’s more focused on could necessarily be called bonding.
Of the three of us, I’ve mastered retreating into my beast heart the best. I know it’s dangerous to allow our beasts to take over for too long, but sometimes it’s all I can do to keep myself from tearing everything and everyone apart.
I don’t want to die like the last boy who lost control of his form, but I don’t want to risk the lassie’s life either if I can help it.
A knock at the door raises my head, but I’m quickly uninterested as I see Miriam enter the room. I find it amusing when they think we’ve eaten someone, especially since none of us has ever given them reason to. I frown as Annalise is pulled from our midst. I hadn’t realized how much I had enjoyed her body so close to mine…even if Ero was the lucky bastard actually touching her.
Low growling from Li shakes me from my thoughts, which had been growing rather indecent, and I lift myself just in time to see Damien strike Miriam to the ground. I smell blood. An ancient part of me is suddenly awakened and I know it’s Annalise’s blood without having to see it. I hastily check to make sure she isn’t harmed, not that a pinprick doesn’t cause me pain enough. Seeing no visible wound, my eyes turn to Miriam. I’m horrified by the way Damien grasps her by her hair and throws her from the room.
As angry as I am, and as much as I wish I could defend her, I can’t imagine what I’d do if it had been Annalise. I can’t handle any more of this right now.
I retreat into my beast heart once again.
Li
I can barely contain my jealousy. My usual calm giving way to wave after wave of envy as I watch Ero holding Annalise close as she rests.
At moments like this, I wish I wasn’t so given over to gentlemanly behavior or I’d be the one in Ero’s stead, holding her, reassuring her that everything will be okay, even if it’s not true. I decide to content myself with the fact that she’s near, imagining all the things I’d do to make her mine if I could.
No, I have to be resolute. Letting the bond get any stronger will put Annalise in very imminent danger. But, on the other hand, if we try and fail to break Damien’s spell, there’s a very real chance that not only will we die, but Annalise will be in a far more perilous situation than what mere death brings. What exactly that situation may be, I’d rather not know. I have to put her first.
I turn, curling up so I face away from Annalise, my thoughts returning to the ones before. The boys who never grew into men, the shifters who weren’t strong enough to survive the torture. There were many before us,
boys who caved and tried to break the curse. Some made it out alive, only to be found dead a few days later. I don’t even know how long I’ve been trapped like this anymore…
The warmth at my back is gone, and I lift my head to find Annalise being preened by Mariam. A weight from my neck lifts as I realize the handler has switched out our heavy chains. It’s only now that I smell it. Iron. I’d have thought it was our chains but they were just removed. I take in another lungful, this scent I know. Blood.
A low growl escapes my chest as Damien strides across the room. The next few moments are a blur of violence, my eyes never leaving Annalise.
This time, we’re taken with them to dine in the Great Hall, and a good thing too. If she’d left us behind, I’d probably have done something I’d regret later.
The evening passes slowly as I am called out again and again to help pacify and otherwise charm our guests into complacency. The one saving grace of the evening is words directed at Annalise. I look into her eyes and try to make her feel me. My treasure. The words are mine. Stolen. And I realize just how much I don’t want him to be my mouthpiece. I place myself somewhere between human and beast and spend the rest of the evening trying not to think.
Twelve
Annalise
I breathe a sigh of relief as I step into my room, the door shut and locked behind me. The leopards have once again been leashed to the wall, food and water placed on the floor beside them, but they haven’t touched it.
Their heads rest against their paws as they seem to be hovering on the edge of sleep. I’m more than a little surprised at their demeanor and slowly move to sit with them. As I near them, they raise their heads to look at me, and I can’t help but feel they want me near them as much as I want to be with them.
