Somehow, she had forgotten just how…magnificent Deg was. I'm glad I decided to dress for the party, after all. In her purple and green paisley sundress, she didn't feel so grungy compared to him. The thin straps showed off her shoulders, and the skirt swirled gracefully around her legs. An awkward shyness crawled over her the longer she stared at him. She swallowed nervously. "Hi, Deg."
He tied Balios to the guardrail and perched on the opposite side of the metal barricade, facing her. Deg opened his mouth, but stopped himself, shaking his head.
Freddy's spirits improved at the gesture; she wasn't the only one who didn't know what to say.
He leaned back to look her over. "Why are you out here alone? It's not a school day. I made very sure it wouldn't be a school day."
Freddy traced a whirling spiral in the pollen of the guardrail. "Mom and Dad are throwing me a belated birthday party."
Deg straightened, his posture stiff, his face tense. "I hope you can forgive me for intruding on your solemnities, Freddy."
"Solemnities?"
His mouth quirked in a small smile. "Crashing your party."
Remembering the oppressive noise, the crush of people, Freddy hugged herself to keep from shivering. "It actually…got to be a bit much. I walked out here to clear my head. I--I didn't even want to have the stupid thing if you weren't going to be there." She tugged at her dress's strap, fidgeting from her nerves, wishing some life or death disaster would occur to end the awkward silence.
"I wished to bring some gift, a token of my esteem for you, but I did not know what you might like." He turned his empty palm up.
Freddy's insides warmed. "It's all right. I'm not dead. I'm home. I think I'm set for birthday presents this year." She swallowed and looked him over, checking for any missing bits, any horrible wounds. She sighed in relief to see he seemed to have survived an encounter with his father in one piece. "Cerberus didn't eat you."
He laughed under his breath. "No. That ignominious fate did not await me."
"Are you--did he…did Hades banish you?"
"He did not." Deg frowned and stared hard at the road without seeming to see it. "Truly, I think Kore's transformation shocked him so greatly he did not notice me much. I believe he also spared me so as not to anger the new Morrígan. But my father did advise me not to rescue any more damsels in distress."
She snorted in amusement. "I'll try not to bother you next time I'm in distress."
"Of course…" His voice softened. "Hades did not say anything against letting young damsels rescue me." Deg eased himself closer to her, so she could feel the warmth of his body. "Have I thanked you yet for all the times you have saved me, my dear Amazon?" Reaching to take her hand, he slowly, irresistibly, tugged her closer.
I missed you. Heat flamed over Freddy's cheeks, and she swallowed the words down, too scared to expose her feelings to Deg. Nervous, sure he would see what she thought, she kept her face down.
"Frederica, I have crossed the rivers of the Underworld, battled the three-headed hound of Hades, bribed the ferryman of the Underworld, faced off against a war goddess and her entire unwholesome host, wrestled the mighty Cúchulainn to see you safe and happy." He studied her hand, one finger tracing her life line in a gentle caress that sent shivers coursing through her body. Pressing both his hands over hers, his voice roughened, going low and kind of croaky. "You mean very much to me. I lied when I said I did not have a gift for you. I do. It's just I am loath to present it to you."
Freddy wasn't sure she could speak, her throat was so tight, her eyes wet. If she opened her mouth she'd cry, and she so did not want to cry. She nodded in understanding, which he couldn't even see because he was still staring at her hand.
Oh, yes. She and Deg were doing very well at the communication thing.
Deg gusted out a sigh and pulled a small vial filled with clear liquid from a pouch at his belt. Both of his hands cupped Freddy's as he passed it to her. Once she had taken it, he pulled his hands away and leaned back.
She examined the glass bottle. "Why are you giving me the water of Lethe?" She clenched her teeth to keep from screaming. "Again."
His head jerked up. An afterthought of a smile flitted across his lips and vanished. "Freddy. My dear Amazon. Love--"
She crinkled her nose. Gods always have to know it all, don't they? Her breath had stalled somewhere in her chest, making her eyes water, her heart ache. After everything, after all the shit she'd been through with him, after agonizing and waiting and worrying for a month about his stupid ass, he dumped her. He dumped her with river water.
She tugged her hand free. "You're offering the same deal as last time, right? I can forget everything?"
"There's enough to wipe this whole episode from your mind. Even from your family's should you wish. Everything can return to the way it was. Your memories of this time can go away."
She shoved the vial back at him. "I don't want them to go away. Thanks." Folding her arms, she glowered at him. Crapiest. Present. Ever.
He turned the vial around in his palm a few times, until he closed his fingers over it in a white-knuckled grip. "Shall I drink it?"
"What?"
"I missed you these past weeks. I want to be with you. If you do not feel the same, I had just as soon not remember any of this." When he looked at her his handsome face seemed ravaged, his eyes hollow with grief. And suddenly she couldn't breathe again.
He continued in a low whisper, still clutching the vial hard. "Better not to remember you at all than to be tormented by memories of that which I cannot have."
Freddy hesitated. Flashes of the Hunt, Clymenus, Morrígan's body, all the things that had haunted her dreams for the past month flitted before her eyes. If she drank, she could go back to her party and finally enjoy it. She could fit in with her friends again.
She stared at the top of Deg's head. The rumpled mass of black hair and the bare skin of his neck seemed so vulnerable. He kicked at the gravel by the roadside, and she ran her eyes over all the six foot plus of glorious, infuriating Deg-ness. Her heart squeezed with a fierce rush of affection.
But still, he was a god and she wasn't…How can this end well? With a frustrated sigh, she thrust her hand out. "Give me the water."
Deg's shoulders slumped as he passed it to her, and his lips pinched tight as he whipped his head away.
Freddy stalked past him and threw the vial hard so the delicate glass smashed to bits on the road, the water a tiny puddle, quickly soaking into the ground. "Idiot," she growled at Deg when she turned back, but she was still breathless, tense with nerves.
He leapt over the guardrail, sandals sliding in the blanket of pine needles. A smile brightened his face, lighting the whole world with it. When he caught her in his arms and pulled her close, she melted against him, pressing close, breathing the scent of his skin, feeling like somehow she'd come home.
He pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes drifting closed as the fearful tension leaked out of his body. "I have another present for you. Since you declined my first."
Freddy cupped his cheek, stroking her thumb over his skin, comforting him with her touch the way he so often soothed her. "Deg, you and me together, that's present enough for anybody."
"I thought so, too. Behold your present. Long may you enjoy it." He threw his arms out in a grand gesture and nearly overbalanced backwards over the guardrail. Freddy caught him by the front of his chiton and hauled him back. He wrapped his arms around her and dipped his head to kiss her. One of those quick, sharp kisses that smacked when Freddy pulled her lips away and went to her head faster than Roman wine.
She licked her lips and tucked her head into the crook of his neck, her lips brushing his skin as she spoke, her voice still breathy from the kiss. "Now wait. Are you my present? Or just that one kiss?"
"Either. Both."
She pretended to mull this over, stepping back and pursing her lips. "Hmm…so if you're my birthday present, does that mean you're popping out of the cake?" She sc
rewed her face into a very serious frown. "Will there be pink pasties involved? Spinning tassels?"
Deg did not speak, only laughed and pulled her to him with an exciting kind of ease. Her lips met his. She twined her arms around him while he held her close.
She and Deg didn't make it back to the party for a very long time.
Teaser
If you liked HEIR TO THE UNDERWORLD read on for an excerpt from E.D. Walker's THE BEAUTY'S BEAST, available now wherever ebooks are sold!
Lady Kathryn's father sends her to court to find a husband, but being penniless and disinterested doesn't bode well for her success. Bored by the petty intrigues of court, her frustration and loneliness are eased when the king charges her with the care of his newest acquisition: a wolf he and his hunters have recently captured. What the king doesn't realize is his remarkable pet was once Gabriel, his favorite knight, cursed into wolf form by an unfaithful wife.
The beast's too-knowing eyes and the way he understands and responds to her every utterance convince Kathryn he is more than what he seems. Resolving to restore him, she doesn't count on the greatest obstacle being Gabriel himself. The longer he stays in wolf form as a captive of the court, the harder it becomes for him to remember his humanity and to fight his wolfish urges to maim and kill.
Only Kathryn's affection and determination stand between Gabriel the wolf and Gabriel the man. But when the one who betrayed him returns to court, will Kathryn's love be enough to keep Gabriel from exacting a brutish revenge that will condemn the wolf to death?
The Beauty's Beast - published by Noble Romance Publishing, LLC - excerpt used with publisher's permission.
The Beauty's Beast
Prologue
Once upon a time . . . Is that how all the stories used to start? After all this time, all this solitude I'm not sure what I remember anymore . . . What is real?
Well, once upon a time I was a man. I remember that much at least. Not just a man, but a knight.
Remember that, wretched creature. Hold to that. A knight I was, cherished by the king himself. Respected. Renowned. The most beloved knight in all the land. A hero. And now . . . . Now I am a beast, trapped forever as a wolf, with only the boundaries of this forest as a buffer from the human world that has cast me off.
All that was good, all that was noble in me is gone now.
No, not all.
A knight is more than his armor. Pennants flying. The banquets. The fine clothes. Honor is not just to be found in the outward signs of it. I have to believe that.
He'd had fine clothes once. A fine home. Accolades. Honor. Respect. He'd had a life. A life and a wife and a place in the world.
But now I am a beast. What honor I possessed has disappeared along with my fine clothes and gold-etched armor. Along with my titles and honors and lands . . .Along with her . . .
His upper lip curled back over fangs dripping saliva.
All lost, all gone, and now . . . .
A low rumble escaped his throat. Were it still a human throat, the growl might have passed for a rueful chuckle. But from the throat of a wolf, the sound was little better than a deep snarl.
And now?
And now what?
He bounded out of the cool shade of his den, his paws sinking into the wet, spongy ground beneath him as he ran through the forest, fighting to outpace his thoughts. Normally he hid himself from the light of the day. The sunshine brought back too many memories of what he'd been and hammered home all too forcefully what he was now.
But today he found no rest wherever he went. All this soul-searching only stirred up a restless, painful energy inside him. When you are a beast, what good is there in trying to think like a man?
Echoing growls from his ribcage reminded him of what his human ruminations had distracted him from for too long: wolf, man, or otherwise, he was hungry.
Chapter One
Lady Kathryn de Réméré understood where her duty lay. She did--truly. The hitch, though, the tricky part, the really twisty trouble was . . . . Well, she was actually having a difficult time convincing herself that her duty was to do her duty.
The royal court had not taken part in a hunt since the marriage of the Princess Aliénor to their king a month previous. Kathryn had only been one of the queen's ladies since Aliénor's marriage, but in one short month Kathryn had grown very fond of her queen. She would do almost anything for her, but . . . did it have to be hunting?
Riding had never been one of Kathryn's favorite pastimes either, and when her father had gambled away the funds necessary to keep their horses, the loss of her late mother's bay mare had caused Kathryn only a small touch of regret.
Kathryn certainly liked horses, and riding could be pleasant, but this--this neck-or-nothing tear through the woods, the bouncing and jostling and branches hitting her in the face, and all the while the great brute below her ignoring all her most urgent instructions.
The horse recognized who was master, and it certainly was not the featherweight astride his back pulling ineffectually, and rather irritatingly, at his reins. He had his head now and would not have slowed for a rider twice as skillful as Kathryn.
Her horse broke from the group of hunters and went careening wildly off into the brush. A bare moment later, Kathryn heaved forward off her horse's neck, the ground rising up to meet her. She lay stunned in the damp leaves, the musty smell of the dirt thick in her nostrils, while the careless beast gleefully galloped his way back to his home stable for some oats and a good brushing down.
The chase was on, though, and Kathryn would not be missed by her companions for some time yet.
Only slightly dazed, when her wits recovered sufficiently and the world stopped spinning, she stood with the aid of an obliging tree trunk to take in her surroundings. The lush forest possessed a heavy covering of brush on the ground, clustering around the roots of the tall trees. Kathryn put a hand to her chest, trying to calm her still-hammering heart. "Help. Anyone? Hello?"
The forest swallowed her cries, and the only sounds around her now were the gentle rustlings of the trees. She swallowed sudden fear, stifling it, and started walking, hoping someone had noticed her difficulties and come looking.
She would be having a long day if they had not.
Kathryn gulped in a deep breath, then tilted her head to listen as a strange noise caught her attention. She froze and held her breath.
Barking, horses and--the high-pitched howl of a wolf?
I thought we hunted the hart this day. This thought was swiftly chased away by another and rather more alarming one: They're coming this way. The crashing of hooves through the underbrush filled her ears, along with the bloodthirsty cries of the hunting dogs and the triumphant shouts of the men.
She stood at the edge of a small clearing. A hoyden in her youth, Kathryn had little difficulty maneuvering even with her hampering skirts. Quickly, she swung herself up onto the first branch of the nearest tree. Just in time too. The king and his entourage, having trapped their quarry at last, came thundering into the clearing, trampling over the place where she had been standing.
The wolf smelled the dogs before he heard the sounds of the hunt echoing in his forest. The hounds scented him before they gave chase, howling and baying while they tracked his progress through the woods. The werewolf's scent would drive the dogs mad, as the stench of magic always did the trick on poor beasts.
Ah, well. The wolf believed himself to be rather smarter than even the wiliest hunting dog and had tricks enough to bring himself safely home. He stretched his muscles and broke into a run, shoulders flexing, muscles singing at the exercise.
He caught a hint of smell then--the merest breath to fill his nostrils. But this was enough. A spasm of grief choked him, and a whine broke from his throat. The wolf stopped. He could not have moved if he'd wanted to--and he did not want to.
My king, he thought, just before the hounds caught up to him. He ran then, cursing himself as he darted between the trees and slogged through the tangles
of underbrush. Idiot. You let one smell on the air distract you long enough for the bloody dogs to get your smell. And now what's to do?
Befuddled and at war with himself, he fumbled through his escape, stumbling and taking wrong turns. His baser instincts pulled with every fiber of muscle for him to slip away and lose himself in the forest, foiling this hunt as he had so many others. His human heart and what parts of his head it still had sway over urged him in the other direction--back to the humans. Back to the king.
The wolf's hesitation, his dreadful indecision, gave the hunting dogs the edge, and the wolf wore himself out running from them and from himself. As he tried to speed ahead of the hunting pack, his mind was betraying him, thinking of his king when he should be strategizing a way out for his wolf's body. If he didn't focus--and soon--the dogs would get him.
The werewolf found he didn't care much.
* * * * *
The swift greyhounds chased him for hours, wearing the wolf down, tiring him out so he would be too weak to give more than a token fight at the end.
He remembered this tactic well from when he had been the hunter on the horse. He winced in memory now at the number of poor beasts his prized hounds had chased down for him, of the terrified, fatigued creatures he had put to death, then ceremoniously carved up and fed to his hunting dogs.
At least I know what happens next.
The largest of the greyhounds finally caught up with the werewolf, pacing along beside him, the hound's rasping breaths loud in the wolf's ears. They were of similar height, though the wolf's body had more weight to it, larger muscles. The greyhound, a whipcord of wiry strength with jaws of iron, pounced on the wolf. The werewolf dodged expertly, and the deathblow meant for his neck fell instead to his shoulder.
The greyhound thrashed and bit down with bruising strength. With true remorse as the wolf remembered how fond he had been of his own sport hounds, he savagely locked on to the hound's neck. With a bone-shattering crunch, the wolf snapped the dog's neck and ripped its throat open. Gurgling, eyes rolling back, the dog fell dead to the soft turf of the forest.
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