by Alice Wilde
“Annalise.”
I hear my name and I struggle to push through the fog in my mind, finally managing to open my eyes wearily.
“Mmm, good morning, Annalise,” Damien says silkily. “Your eye has improved immensely. I believe we can move forward with the wedding. How does tomorrow sound?”
“Good morning, My Lord. Yes, as you wish.”
I can’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. These are not my words. It’s my voice, but never in a thousand hells would that be my answer.
“Excellent,” the physician says, scurrying over from his alchemy set, tying his breeches back in place. “It seems she’s been able to retain sanity, but with a much-improved attitude!”
“Yes, much improved. Get up, Annalise, you need a bath.”
I instantly rise without telling myself to move, I am fully conscious now, even if my mind feels like it’s slogging through mud, but I no longer have control over my body.
“Miriam will take you to your room. You are to bathe and drink your tea. I will make sure food is sent up promptly. We must keep your energy up. I won’t have you passing out before I’ve finished with you tomorrow night.”
I giggle, or at least my body does. I am seething.
“I’m almost disappointed,” Damien says. “I was looking forward to breaking your will on our wedding night, but you just had to go and do something stupid and nearly break your head. At least you shouldn’t be able to cause yourself any more bodily harm. Leave that to me.”
I want to launch at him, tear into his flesh with every ounce of my strength. I want him dead, but instead, I curtsey.
“Yes, My Lord.”
“You’ll call me beloved.”
“Yes, my beloved.”
“Mmm, yes. This will be fun. Now, go to your room.”
I curtsey for the second time and leave.
Miriam is waiting in the hall, and together we walk back to my room. I’ve never walked this slowly through the castle in all my life. As we’re walking, I am suddenly overwhelmed by a thought. How many of Damien’s servants are in the same state as me? What if Miriam isn’t as horrific as she seems, but is trapped inside, barely surviving each day as a walking corpse bound to Damien’s will?
I’m mortified by the thought of it. If I can’t find a way out of this before tomorrow evening, I’ll be wed to Damien. My body will give itself over while I watch on in torment for as long as Damien sees fit to keep me alive.
We finally reach my bedroom. Miriam unlocks and opens the door. We step inside.
My body immediately takes me over to the tub. I shed my clothing and step inside the empty basin where I wait for Miriam to bathe me. Milk is brought and heated the same as before, but this time each pail is poured one by one over my body as it is warmed.
The heat causes the fog in my mind to thicken. My eyes don’t close, but I feel my consciousness trying to slip away.
No, I command myself. If all I have left of myself is my thoughts, then I have to fight for them. He may have taken control of my body, my voice, but I will not give him the satisfaction of my thoughts. Every day for the rest of my life, I will use my thoughts to make him feel my hate, to know my deep and unrelenting disobedience to his will. He can take my body, but he will never take me.
I no longer have any concept of time, but I soon find myself cleaned and dressed, waiting as Miriam makes my bed. Again, not the bed I prefer with my leopards, but my human bed. This time, when she’s finished, I don’t remove the bedding, but climb into it and wait for sleep to come. Or, at least my body does. I manage to keep my eyes open.
Two of the leopards, Ero and Roan, try to squeeze onto the bed but end up settling for space on the floor on either side of the bed, their large front paws and heads resting on the mattress next to me. I feel my heart skip ever so slightly in my chest. With the state my mind is in, I had nearly forgotten about them, but deep down, I know they are an integral part of why I haven’t given up. I’m not the only one I have to save. I struggle to let them know I’m still here, I’m fighting to hold on, I still care. There’s so much more at stake here than just my body.
Their lives depend on me.
Twenty-Seven
The Leopards
Ero
Annalise didn’t come back. Her body is in the room with us, but it’s not Annalise. I’ve tried to find a sign, some way of knowing if she’s still with us, but so far there’s been nothing.
Roan has attempted to link with her several times, but he’s only found darkness. Li has been completely useless. He won’t take his eyes off her, except when she undresses, but otherwise keeps his distance. I know he blames himself, but we all knew that sooner or later Damien was going to take her. In some ways, perhaps it’s better this way.
No, in absolutely no way is this better, for her or us. Even I, as much as I love the company of women, wouldn’t take a woman without her wanting me, and especially not one who didn’t have the ability to say otherwise.
Annalise is in bed now, and I feel the pang of loss once again. As selfish as the thought might be, I want her beside me in the bed we shared once before. To hold her, to feel the small breaths of sleep against my fur. I try to climb up next to her, knowing full well I won’t be able to fit. I growl low as Roan tries the same thing, but know it was a foolhardy attempt on both our parts. Stepping down, I find a spot as close to the bed as possible and lay my head down next to her. Roan does the same on the opposite side of the bed.
“What are we supposed to do now?” I say to no one in particular.
“Nothing. The lass has to fight this battle on her own. We can only try to show her she’s not in it alone,” says Roan.
“Damn it. No matter what we do, we can’t win. We bond with her, Damien grows more powerful. We don’t bond with her, Damien traps her mind. Either way, he’ll take her, he’ll grow more powerful.”
“Ero?”
“What?”
“How do we know what happens if we bond with her? We’ve never felt drawn to the other women. We’ve never felt the desire to bond before. Damien has told us time and again to allow the bond to grow, but that’s only made us try to resist it.”
“What are you saying, Roan?” Li asks, almost instantaneously appearing beside us.
“Just think about it,” Roan continues. “Damien has literally beaten it into us since the day we were cursed. We’re supposed to bond with the chosen female for the magic to work, for him to be able to draw from it, but we’ve only ever felt drawn to Annalise. We know that Damien can feel, or at least sense, what we feel toward the royals he entraps, but our lack of bond has never stopped Damien from hurting the others.”
Li growls in thought.
“So, what if it was a ploy?” Roan says. “He’s been training us for this moment since the beginning. Telling us to bond, to form a connection so that we do our best to fight it. There is a bond between us whether or not we want there to be, but we haven’t allowed it to grow beyond what we can manage. Not yet.”
“You’re saying…you think that by not bonding, we might actually be playing into the curse?” I ask.
“It’s just a thought,” Roan goes on. “Damien is going to take her either way, and the fact that we’ve been fighting the bond doesn’t seem to irk him. If anything, perhaps whatever bond he does feel between us may be why he’s been so insistent about the wedding happening sooner. He hasn’t cared this much in the past. We know he has enough magic in him to keep the king alive for as long as needed.”
“Cao. You might be right,” Li curses to himself.
“Li, you’re the only one who can choose to let the bond form,” Roan insists. “I might be wrong about this. I know it’s not fair, but you have to make the choice. We don’t have much time.”
Damn, Roan. As much as I like him, sometimes I think his imagination and lighthearted nature screw with his mind. He’s just made this whole situation even more complicated than it already is.
Li
&nb
sp; I don’t know what to think anymore. Roan might be right, but he could be very wrong. I know Damien is a manipulator, but that’s just what’s so dangerous about the whole situation. You never know what’s real and what’s a game. We could be playing into his whole scheme, or we could be saving her as best we know how.
I’m not even sure how much longer we have anymore. I’m not even sure if Annalise is herself anymore…but I can’t shake the feeling that she is. There’s something about her eyes. There’s a faint light still there, fighting. Maybe I just want to believe she is. I promised I’d protect her, I promised I’d keep her safe…and I’ve failed. I feel sick.
I bound away to a window and lean as far into the night air as I can. I’d jump, ending the misery once and for all if I wasn’t too big to fit through the opening, and if I knew for certain Annalise wasn’t still here.
The cool evening breeze is sweet. A bittersweet reminder of the freedom we’ve all lost. I can’t make a decision like this. I have to have a sign. If only I could pray to my ancestors for guidance, but I’m certain they’re too far away to hear. I don’t even have incense to carry my prayers between worlds. Perhaps this is my punishment for how I’ve used my life or my past lives. Or maybe this is a chance at redemption.
I fall back onto the floor and pace. However much it may annoy the others, it’s the only way I can think.
Ancestors, if you can hear me. Send me a sign.
Roan
Her breathing is soft, but I can sense there’s more to it than sleep. I’m not sure what. I’m afraid it’s my own heart playing tricks on me, but I just can’t get rid of the feeling that she’s not sleeping. I’ve been trying to figure it out for over an hour now. Li’s pacing is bothering the hell out of me, but I’ve chosen to ignore it.
Ero won’t stop purring. Does he never stop wanting to mate? All right, to be fair, I’m pretty sure Annalise has that effect on all of us, but at least I can mostly push that out of my head when things are this serious.
I focus harder, but his purring is getting in the way of my hearing.
“Saints, Ero,” I finally snap. “Can you please, for the love of god, stop purring for just a second?”
“I would,” Ero retorts, “if I was the one purring in the first place, you idiot. You’re the one purring.”
“I’m not…”
I glance over and we exchange a look of bewilderment.
We’re up and leaning over Annalise before we can say another word, nearly crushing the bed in the process.
“It’s Annalise,” we say in unison.
“Li,” I say, but he continues pacing, lost in thought.
“Li!” Ero and I roar.
Li turns to look and is up between us the next moment, searching Annalise with his eyes.
“What happened?” Li asks.
“Nothing, listen.”
The purring, ever so quiet, is still there. But it’s not purring. I don’t know how I didn’t notice the difference before. It’s not the guttural mating sound that comes from us when we make it, but a velvety, feminine growl. And it’s growing stronger. She’s still with us. She’s fighting…and now we must fight too.
Twenty-Eight
Annalise
I know my body is asleep; my eyes have long since closed. The physical exhaustion overpowers my mental strength. It’s odd, the detachment I feel from my body in this moment. It’s almost as if I am part of two beings. The physical me and the inner me. Neither truly one without the other, but both present. Surviving.
I can hear my leopards’ low grumbles beside me, almost as if they were talking to each other. There’s the soft pad of feet moving back and forth across the room as well. Probably Li, since he’s the only one who maintains a relatively constant distance from me. There has to be some way out of this. I never believed in magic before, but these past few days have proven me wrong. If curses are real, then there must be ways to break them as well.
I try to focus my mind, willing my body to move. But I can’t even manage the twitch of a finger. I scream inside with anger and despair, and then pause.
I scream again. And I hear it. My body is reacting. There’s no logic to it. I can’t rationally make sense of it, but I continue to scream, channeling every ounce of me into it.
My body begins to hum with the vibrations and I feel my mind begin to clear, the outward sounds are familiar, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Literally or figuratively. The mists in my mind don’t go away, but they slither away to the very edges of my consciousness. Tremors ripple through my body. I still can’t move, but it’s something.
It’s not giving up.
I’m not sure when I finally gave in to sleep, but I couldn’t fight it off forever. I wake, terrified that I’ve lost myself, but as the world comes into focus, I breathe an inner sigh of relief, which I quickly regret as my consciousness recognizes what I’m seeing. I’m looking in a mirror, Miriam standing behind me as she slips a dress up and over my naked body. A deep red dress.
My wedding day.
How could I have forgotten? Even for an instant. Even while my mind was still at rest, my body was treacherously betraying me in its preparations for marriage. Today is my last chance, and I am certainly not going to face it calmly. Not if I can help it.
The dress gleams in the light, the material clinging to my form like a waterfall of blood. Yes. That’s exactly what this dress represents. Blood. Today will be one of two things. It will either be the death of me, or it will be the start of a bloody war. I choose the latter.
I’m unable to move from the mirror as Miriam continues to arrange me for my wedding. My hair is pinned but allowed to cascade down my back in wild golden waves. Miriam leaves to collect more pins as I watch myself in the mirror. Others might see a princess, but I see a wild-hearted warrior.
A small smile turns up the corner of one side of my mouth. Did I just react to my own thoughts? Or was that a false pretense of pleasure at my impending doom?
I shout, the sound in my head almost sounding like a growl, and I’m pleased to feel the sensation ripple through my body.
All is not lost. Not yet.
Miriam returns and finishes pinning my hair before leading me to the other side of the room where she places a small bouquet of flowers into my hand before leaving the room. She doesn’t lock the door. Rage burns inside me. Running away is of such little threat to them now that they don’t even bother locking my door anymore. I growl. This time the vibrations shooting through my body are so strong I actually waver in my standing position.
I need something to focus my anger on. Something to channel my rage. A reason to escape. So far, my own danger hasn’t proved to be a strong enough cause. I have to think.
The darkness in Damien. I try to allow the thought to envelop me, but I quickly shake it as the mists immediately begin to overtake my mind. So, Damien and his powers are off-limits. Too dangerous.
Papa? I let the thought of his poisoning, his death, rile me. I call up my memories of childhood days spent and lost with him. The love I once felt for him and hoped I’d feel again, but I can’t hold onto it. There’s not enough attachment. My childhood was spent mostly alongside Mother and other children in the woods. Father rarely spent time with me, aside from disciplining me.
Mother? For the first time in years, I allow the heartbreak of Mother’s death to overwhelm my thoughts. I can feel my heart cracking, but the love, while beautiful, is old. A wound that I have long since learned to accept. As much as she loved me and me her, she is gone. If anything, the more I try to channel this emotion, the more I want to let go, to be reunited with her once again. Wherever that might be.
Hot tears well up in my eyes and spill down over my cheeks. I want to break down, fall into a heap on the floor, but my body just remains stiff and standing. Aching with the pain.
There’s no time to mourn, I try to tell myself, but I continue to weep.
The wetness streaking my face stops my heart for a moment as
I realize I can still show emotion.
Sickness twists my stomach into terrible knots. This means Damien can still hurt me. He’ll know, even as if I try to hide it. He’ll know when he gets through to me. I’m at a loss. All my determination flees in the blink of an eye. Or it would if my eyes would still blink normally.
As soon as he realizes I can still show emotion, I’m sure he’ll do everything in his power to break me. Use me. Destroy every semblance of humanity left in me. Every day will be a new form of torture.
I force myself to turn my thoughts to something else. Allowing myself to simply stare out of one the windows at the greenery of the forest canopy spreading off into the distance. I imagine myself running, wind in my hair, free. I’d never come back. Never be trapped again.
The tears stop, although I can still feel their sticky paths on my face and the light tickle of teardrops on my chest.
Again, I am frustrated by my sudden realization that I can still feel. My physical body still acknowledges the sensations of the environment around me, whether or not I want it to. However much I might try to separate myself from my body, some of it would still get through to me. I might be able to pull away for a time, drown myself in the mists, but there would be no way to avoid it all.
The door creaks open and Miriam enters. I don’t move, only knowing it’s her through the peripherals of my vision and the sound of her footsteps. Her frowning face comes into vision as she stops in front of me and wipes at my cheeks. She pinches them to bring color back into them before grabbing a bit of rose and crushing it between her fingers.
I must look a wreck for her to be going against Damien’s wishes that I not wear makeup. This bothers me. If we are in fact both under this curse, why is she able to disobey some of his orders? Perhaps she isn’t cursed…or she knows how to break it.
