Scarred Beauty

by Jennifer Silverwood

  “Baalor?”

  She jumped when his hand reappeared through the opening he had made. Baalor helped her through the overturned boughs before pushing on ahead of her. Vynasha used her claws to find bearing on the slick bark and ignored the pounding in her head.

  On the other side, Baalor stood in an open circle fashioned from the tangled mess of trees around them. He cocked an amused eyebrow as she emerged into the clearing. “No use carrying on like this any further until morning.”

  She looked up, surprised to find the sun had indeed already left the sky above, the first glimpse of stars peeking out through a layer of clouds. For once, she did not argue, grateful for a respite. After all, she had been up through the night howling at the moon.

  Together they made a fire at the center of the tight clearing. The trees provided ample shelter from the mountain winds. Here at the foot of the valley, they were far enough from the heaviest of the enchanted forest to feel safe from any unnatural danger. Vynasha might have been put at ease, but Baalor kept a sharp eye out.

  After they consumed the last of Grandmother’s dried cakes, he broached the subject he had avoided all day. “So what, pray tell, were you doing with our enemy? Or did you think I’d accept the story you gave Wanderer?”

  She flinched at the bite in his tone. “You were listening? I thought I saw you watching us from the wood.”

  Baalor’s warmth turned to hard ice as he looked up to face her fully. “I was.”

  “I told the truth, you know.” She opened her palm and looked at the silver pendant. The bird shape seemed distorted now. Was it a bird or a wolf?

  “Liars insist upon the truth,” Baalor muttered.

  “And not everyone who lies is a liar.” Vynasha closed her fist over the pendant. “Wolfsbane sought me out because he is not my enemy.” Of course, she didn’t dare repeat every word. Wolfsbane had so much as confessed he wanted to kill her. “I proposed we form an alliance. He doesn’t wish to hunt your people anymore, Baalor, not while the beasts roam this land.”

  “Of course he’d say that!” He turned from her and ran a hand through his hair, tugging it from its secure tie. “He is a coward and a murderer. You cannot trust Wolfsbane.”

  “That’s funny, because Ceddrych warned me the same thing about you. But I am not a child. I can make up my own mind without you trying to make it for me. I trust you. Won’t you trust me now?”

  Baalor’s shoulders hunched together, tensing against her words. Snow came to rest over his hair and shoulders, glistening in the firelight. She could not sniff out his mood now and struggled to swallow past her nerves. She was no fool. If Baalor didn’t agree, there would be no alliance.

  “You think because Wolfsbane agreed to hunt beasts with you, he won’t hunt us once the threat is gone?” Light reflected off his emerald eye as he turned his profile. His voice seemed to rumble against her ears. “Do you believe he won’t come after you before the end?”

  “You can’t know that and I didn’t ask whether you trusted Wolfsbane.” Vynasha ignored the chill sweeping over her with his claim. It was true enough, but she mustn’t let him see her secret fear. Anger was always there on the fringe of her beastly nature and she gladly let it wash over her now. “You trusted me in the cabin last night. You told me hatred has clouded your judgment. Aren’t you weary of fighting your blood wars?”

  Baalor’s gaze seemed brighter under the turn of the moon. “You speak of it as though you are one of us, but you have not seen all I have seen. You don’t know all the things that were done to us, that we have done. You have barely begun to live in this world, so you cannot know what you ask of me.”

  “So everything you told me last night was a lie, then? We have a common enemy. Why can’t you let it go?”

  Baalor stood with a huff and began to pace the borders of their camp, hovering the line of shadow light. “He murdered my wife, Vynasha—his sister. Should I forget that and forgive him?”

  “No, of course not!” She felt the spark of energy ripple through her limbs as she stood. “Look, I know how young I must seem to you, but they made me part of this the moment they named me curse breaker.”

  “Curse them for naming you, then. This was never your burden to bear!” His breath was warm against her cheek, the heat of him suddenly near, distracting. He froze, immobile when she reached to take his hand in the cold air between. He stared at their joined fingers, at her dimly glowing skin illuminating the raised scars covering his hand.

  Vynasha took a breath to calm her racing heart. “I am not a hero, Baalor, and I don’t believe in prophecies, but we’re here now and I’m not running away. This is my home.” He squeezed her hand tighter, but turned away at her declaration. She felt the loss of him keenly as he released her hand. He rolled his shoulders then walked away to the pile of wood beside their fire.

  “I am sorry, Vynasha,” he began slowly, “but I cannot trust my old enemy to protect us from our new enemy.”

  She reached out a hand to catch the pallet she had perched on before as her legs trembled beneath her. “But you must. The beasts won’t stop coming for me.”

  “Why is that, do you believe?”

  “Because…” Vynasha swallowed and tried not to think of the morning after the curse had changed her body or the way Grendall had forced her to flee. “Because I freed them.”

  “You what?” He froze and his tone was so hard, so desperate, she wondered if she had made a mistake in telling him.

  “Before I escaped the castle, I used my majik to break the other beasts free, but I wasn’t able to cure them.”

  “Beasts like the one that killed Erythea? By the Crafter!” All pretense of calm broke in Baalor then, bursting like his second wolf skin, like the sparks breaking free of the firewood. “Why would you free a pack of senseless demons?”

  “They aren’t demons!” she hissed, surprised by her vehemence. “I know it sounds strange, but I can hear them in my head clearly as I hear you. They speak with the voices of who they were before, not the monsters they’ve become. Before I ended the beast that attacked our village, it spoke to my mind. ‘Others will come,’ she told me. That’s why we need help, can’t you see? I need to learn how to control my majik so I can go back there and end this. I won’t have any more lives on my hands.”

  He sank onto an overturned limb at the edge of the thicket and turned his face to the moon. “You don’t believe in prophecies, but you believe in curses well enough. We’re all living proof, aren’t we?” The shadows turned his face impenetrable, unreadable.

  Vynasha hesitated, thoughts and emotions still at war, but she had already pushed him to his limit.

  He said no, didn’t he? Doesn’t mean he will tomorrow.

  “You should get some sleep while you can, Beauty.” Baalor cut past her thoughts with no room for reply.

  Still, she could not help but watch him warily as she asked, “What about you?”

  Baalor sighed and looked up so the pale moonlight touched his scarred face. “I won’t find any sleep tonight.”

  She gathered her cloak around her frame and lay on her side, facing the fire. Baalor did not speak to her again and, true to his word, began watching the wreckage with vigilance. Vynasha cupped her hands around the silver pendant, again wishing it held some secret majik.

  Tell me what to do, Mother, she thought as she closed her eyes.

  A horrifying scream pierced the air. To Vynasha’s ears, it sounded so like Erythea that for a wrenching moment, she was in the crux between letting the girl die or…

  She opened her eyes and breathed the crisp morning air with relief.

  Only a nightmare.

  Coals smoked from the gathered ashes before her face and thin crystalline flakes fell softly from the sky. Rarely did the two extremes blend together so well.

  She frowned as the silence of the forest thickened. She pushed onto her elbow for a better look at their fir-enclosed campsite. Her muscles protested at the sudden movement and she w
inced while taking note of one very important, disappointing fact.

  Baalor was nowhere to be seen.

  Recalling the cry from her dream, Vynasha sat up and brushed the fine layer of snow from her cloak and hair. She took comfort in the weight of the silver bird trinket in her pocket before pinning it to the front of her cloak.

  He came back before, she thought as she stood.

  Gooseflesh pimpled on her arm as a high-pitched wail echoed through the forest, followed by the howl of a wolf.

  “Baalor!”

  Vynasha scrambled up and ran in the direction of his howl. The forest was broken near their campsite, forcing her to scramble over mammoth trunks with her claws. Every leaping step loosened leaden muscles while fresh energy surged through her blood. Stray branches sliced her skin as she broke through, choosing speed over caution. She ran until another beastly cry grated against her ears and she shifted course to follow.

  Fear warred with rage as she pushed blindly through underbrush and pitted snow. She stumbled as her right foot sank up to her thigh and clawed her way up again. Tears sprang in her eyes as a large white Wolv danced into her line of sight, pursued by a beast twice its size.

  The poor creature that had attacked the Forgotten Village had been younger, almost sorrowful for the pain it had inflicted while trapped within its bear-like shape.

  Not this beast. A voice hovered on the edge of its guttural roars, bellowing from a tawny-furred chest thrice the breadth of anything she’d seen before. A thick billowing mane of white hair streamed from a horned, fanged monstrosity fueled by vengeance.

  “Get up!” she commanded herself as she managed to climb out of the sludge and onto unsteady feet.

  Baalor’s white fur was matted red along his back already, but he stood firm, crouched low as he sprang up onto the beast with raking claws.

  The beast’s howl was almost man-like then, and a male voice teetered at the edge of her consciousness…

  “You kept us prisoner!”

  “Stop!” Vynasha lifted a hand as the beast slung itself against nearby tree trunks, crashing back into the thicket. The Wolv yelped and whined in pain. She saw red.

  The beast rolled back onto four paws and heaved a great gusty sigh, almost like laughter. As it settled onto its forepaws, ready to pounce for the final kill, the trapped soul within crowed in triumph. It did not see her until the curse breaker was standing between the beast and its prey.

  “STOP.”

  The beast rammed against what seemed an invisible wall. One second it was leaping up in the air, then the air pushed back. Vynasha’s hands glowed silver as she held her palms forward. The power was back, along with something more, the same raging force that made her howl at the moon.

  The beast cowered at her command, though it growled low in protest. A broken voice brushed against her thoughts. “No right! No right to take my kill!”

  Aloud, Vynasha replied, “He is not your kill. He is mine.”

  The beast glared with amber eyes, a shade darker than her own.

  With her hands still raised, Vynasha took another step, ignoring the creature’s wince. “Why have you come?”

  Its gaze flickered with the man the beast had been before. Another pause as it replied, “We could not find you. But then you called to us, so we came.”

  Vynasha hesitated and her silver skin softened to pale violet. “Why did you attack him?” The beast’s anger was so full and raging, Vynasha bit her lip to keep from the fight it clearly wanted.

  After another moment, the man within overcame his cursed instinct. “His fault. Blood feud.”

  She thought she could see a life before the monster, buried deep beneath an age of hatred, of a cottage on the mountainside and the hunt. But then the beast pushed onto its feet, and a little more of her strength wavered. She remembered suddenly that she was exhausted, and so unprepared for what it asked her next.

  “Free me. Cannot live like this.”

  “I—I don’t know how,” she said. She wished she could take it back, but it was true. The beast howled with her words, echoing her despair.

  “Kill me.”

  Vynasha shook her head, blinking past tears. Her arms trembled against increasing invisible weight. “I’m sorry.”

  The beast raged, tossing its great head, breaking chunks of bark off the nearest tree. She flinched as brittle pieces grazed her cheek.

  Fear pushed her exhaustion back and she thrust her hands out firmly, willing strength into her voice. “Peace!”

  The beast stilled, confusion filling its amber eyes.

  She couldn’t let it go. To kill it would wound her as deeply as the last poor creature she had been forced to put down. She couldn’t let it loose in the wild. Wyll and Ceddrych were out there and without her power culling this beast’s rage, it would murder anyone in its path.

  Vynasha tried to summon what power she could find and prayed it would be enough. “Get as far away as you can from here. Avoid people. Live like a beast but remember who you were before. Wait for my call.”

  Black hovered on the edge of her vision as the beast turned without another word, just as she had done once before. It bent its head and lumbered into the thicket, the rage gone, simply relief lingering on the link they had shared. Once she was certain her command held true and it was far enough away, Vynasha collapsed on the ruined snow.

  She reached back, blindly seeking the Wolv until her fingers found purchase on skin. “Baalor?” She twisted, running her hands absently over his injured torso, and found the glow fading from his green eyes. A jolt shot through her to see his agony. He blinked, gaze shuttering his pain away. She pressed her hand to his bearded jaw and ran a thumb over his scar. “I’m so sorry.”

  His eyes squeezed shut while a smile tugged the corner of his mouth beneath her palm. She pulled back at his halting laughter.

  “How can you laugh after this?” Vynasha moved her hand but Baalor trapped it against his chest and his smile grew. He pushed up onto his side with a grunt. Snow touched his nose and her brow.

  “You save my life, then apologize…”

  “That is not how I meant it, ungrateful brute,” Vynasha protested, but couldn’t help returning his smile. She didn’t know what she’d expected to feel but it wasn’t this overwhelming relief, this lightness of being. Her smile grew as Baalor sat up fully and pulled her into his arms. At first, she blushed at his nakedness, but his warmth swallowed her whole and she turned her nose into his chest. They were covered in bloody sludge and broken bits of rubble. Still, she breathed him in deeply and savored the underlying scent of her friend.

  What if you hadn’t been strong enough to hold the beast?

  She squeezed him even tighter, eliciting another gasping chuckle, but his arms remained tightly encircled around her. “I’m still here, love.” He spoke warmly, gently to her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Vynasha nodded but didn’t let go as ripples of her power shook through her limbs and set her teeth chattering. Baalor didn’t seem affected by the cold, or much troubled by his wounds. She wished she knew how to mend him, wished she had the knowledge to back her gift.

  His hand rubbed soothingly against her back as his body heat slowly penetrated her skin. “I saw what you did, how you commanded that creature.” When she didn’t reply, he added, “I hope you sent him very far away, because if I ever meet him again, I will finish what he started.”

  A promise, like the others Baalor made, was deadly serious and a hint of hope. Vynasha was not as troubled by his relish for violence as she should be, not after everything she had seen and done.

  “He was so strong, I didn’t know if I could hold him. I still don’t know how I did any of it. If I hadn’t…”

  “If you hadn’t, you would have culled him anyway.”

  She lifted her head to meet his confidence with an arched eyebrow. “I’ve been fighting exhaustion ever since I healed Thea…” The warmth in his eyes shuttered to a darker shade at the mention of the
moment everything had changed. Vynasha tensed as his grip on her shifted from soothing to possessive.

  “You brought my little lass back to me. And then you tried to save your nephew from an early grave. I have watched you closely since we first met, Vynasha. Everything you have done was to protect and save others… including me.” His hand came to rest against her neck and suddenly his warmth was overwhelming.

  Vynasha pressed a hand to his chest. “I don’t know what I’m doing, not really. My choices have been mostly guided by instinct. I don’t blame you for thinking me young and foolish because I am. But I don’t want to be anymore. I want to be everything Thea and Wyll believe me to be.”

  Baalor’s grip eased, but fresh passion infused his words. “I spoke harshly to you last night, but not because I think you young and foolish. I know you’re the one we’ve been waiting for, Vynasha, and I stopped believing in prophecies a long time ago. Even though I may not agree with your decision to trust our enemy, I will follow your lead because I believe in you.” He kissed the cold tip of her nose. “I won’t stop you if you believe it’s the only way.”

  She couldn’t help the slow smile tugging at her cheeks and this time didn’t stop Baalor’s lips from descending on hers.

  ONCE THE SNOW began to fall in earnest, Vynasha and Baalor returned to their camp and attempted to pack. He had pulled on another tunic and cloak from their shared pack, but wore little else. She wondered why the majik that shredded and rebuilt their bodies allowed the Wolvs to keep furs on their skins like a cloak after, like an afterthought of kindness. When Vynasha asked Baalor why he’d turned up naked after the fight, he simply replied, “Hard to focus on clothes when you’re bleeding out.”

  “At least you seem to heal quickly,” she commented, sneaking a glance at his clean tunic. No bloodstains yet.

  Baalor gnawed on a dried piece of meat and shouldered their pack with a wince. “That would be the majik in our blood. Helps with shifting skins. She would have liked to make the pain worse for us if she could have.”