Curse of the Wolf King: A Beauty and the Beast Retelling (Entangled with Fae)

by Tessonja Odette

  I pause just outside the courtyard, finding Elliot in his wolf form, laying on his belly. I’m struck at once by how beautiful and sad he looks, his white fur as bright as snow while his powerful build sags with defeat. His head rests on his paws, his canine expression brimming with pain. My eyes flash to the rose. It droops from a cluster of twisting, twining brambles, its stem blackened. And at its center hangs one final petal.

  Elliot lifts his head and lets out a low whine. “You weren’t supposed to come back.” His voice sounds so worn, so tired. “You were supposed to be well on your way to a new life by now. You were supposed to leave and forget about me.”

  With slow, cautious steps, I enter the courtyard, maintaining a wide berth around the rose, afraid a single step could cause the final petal to fall. When I speak, I keep my voice soft despite the terror, confusion, and sorrow that makes me want to shout. “Elliot, I don’t understand what’s going on here.”

  He eases onto his haunches as I approach. Then, with a shudder that rips through him, the wolf dissolves and the familiar man takes his place. He remains on the ground, neither his staff nor prosthetic anywhere to be seen. One leg is propped up and bent at the knee while the amputated one sprawls out to the side.

  He shifts as if he’s preparing to stand, but I sink down next to him. “Don’t get up. Just tell me what’s happening.”

  He looks from me to the rose. “The curse is coming to claim us.”

  “But…but you were going to marry Imogen. She was supposed to break your curse.”

  His face twists with pain as he meets my eyes. “No, Gemma. After the ball, I knew there was no way I could marry her.”

  A flash of anger ignites inside me as I recall what else happened after the ball. How he told me he was willing to break his own curse. I know he decided the sacrifice was too great to make, but I never would have guessed he’d reject Imogen too and choose death instead.

  I ball my hands into fists. “So you’re just going to give up? Let the curse claim you and all the residents of the manor? You’re going to abandon the children to grow up without anyone they know?”

  “The children will live,” he says. “That’s what matters most. And the others have made peace with their fate. They too are unwilling to lose any part of themselves to break the curse. It’s all or nothing.”

  I remember what Blackbeard and Gray had said to me before, how they preferred death over a partial breaking of the curse. But…but…oh, for the love of the saints, these stubborn wolves! I throw my hands in the air. “What about you, Elliot? After everything you’ve told me about no longer hating my kind, is your wolf form still so important that you’d rather die than be stuck in a human body?”

  His jaw tightens, but he holds my gaze. “If I could sacrifice my wolf form, I would.”

  “What are you saying? That it’s too late? The morning after the ball, you said you changed your mind about making the sacrifice.”

  He averts his gaze, and it falls on a discarded petal. Taking it between his fingers, he props an arm on his bent knee and watches the petal, eyes distant. “I came out here to break the curse that morning, just like I said I would. I had the stem of the rose between my fingers, and I paused long enough to reflect on what I was prepared to sacrifice. That’s when it dawned on me.”

  The grief in his expression has my stomach in knots. Everything in me wants to lean forward, take him in my arms. Instead, I force myself to remain as still as possible. “What?”

  “Do you recall the terms that allow me to break the curse myself?”

  “Yes. Of the four things the curse will take from you, if you willingly sacrifice the one you value the most, you will be given the rest.”

  He nods. “Ever since the curse was placed over me, I’ve known my unseelie form was what I valued most. I cared for it more than life. And it remained that way…until something changed. You came into my life. I don’t know when exactly my values shifted. It happened long before I confessed my feelings for you, I’m sure, but I think I could have at least convinced myself otherwise until that night after the ball. But once I held you, felt you, knew you loved me back…I now valued something greater.”

  “What? Which of the four things do you value now, and why is it so hard for you to sacrifice?”

  As he meets my eyes, his are glazed with tears. He gives me a sad, heart wrenching smile. “It’s obvious, Gemma. My memories. Before you, I couldn’t have cared less if I lost them. I had nothing worth keeping. I knew I could survive off instinct, become a similar version of my former self even if I was forced to start fresh. There was a chance I’d lose my crown if I couldn’t remember my past. There was even a chance I’d forget I was fae at all. I was all right with either situation, so long as I could live as a wolf. But now…now…if I lose my memories, I lose you. I lose everything we’ve experienced together. I lose the person I’ve become.”

  My breath hitches, and I feel a sob building in my chest. Everything is starting to come together, the words he said to me the morning I left becoming terribly clear. Words I took to mean something else. I remember the ones that hurt me most—how he said he wished he could take back our night together. How, if it hadn’t happened, he could have broken the curse without losing the only thing he cared about.

  Now I understand.

  He must see the realization in my eyes, for he says, “If I hadn’t had such strong memories worth saving, I could have convinced myself I still valued my unseelie form the most. I could have sacrificed it and kept everything else. But after our night together…there was no going back. There was no clever fae deception that could help me hide the truth. I saw it all as soon as I touched the rose. My memories had become that which I valued most, and if I sacrificed them, I would lose you. And I would lose myself.”

  Tears stream down my cheeks. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you let me leave so full of hate?”

  He reaches a hand toward my face and brushes a stray tear with the backs of his fingers. His touch is so gentle, so apologetic, it makes me feel like my lungs will collapse. “I almost told you, but I realized the truth would have put you in a position to consider breaking my curse yourself. And I will not allow it. You will sacrifice nothing for me, Gemma. I will not have you giving up what you value most. Freedom is too important, and I cannot comprehend what vicious plans the curse would have for you if you sacrificed it, nor am I willing to find out.”

  “But you will die,” I say with a sob.

  He leans closer, bringing both hands to my cheeks. “I will die happy and at peace, knowing that I loved you. Do you know I’ve never loved before? I doubt I’ve ever been happy, even. Every moment since the day I was born was driven by instinct and survival. When it wasn’t that, it was passion, usually in the form of hate or vengeance. The happiest I ever felt was running free through the forests.”

  “Then take it. Go back to that. Sacrifice our memories and return to the forests. That can’t be worse than death.”

  He brushes his thumb along my cheek, catching another tear. “No, Gemma. It would still be death, just of another kind. I didn’t live an honorable life as a wolf. I wasn’t kind and I wasn’t happy. I had no idea what I was missing until you showed it to me, and now I can’t go back to who I was before…or who I will become.”

  “I thought you hated this body.”

  “I did. For so long, I did. This body has caused me agony, opening me to new experiences and emotions. For the first time, I had to face everything I did as a wolf. The people I killed, and not only the hunters I was punished for, but the many others I’ve killed both during and outside of war. I used to relish it. Take pride in it. But in this form, I learned to regret, to feel what you called empathy. I scorned it for so long. But now…if I forget, I’ll go right back to who I once was. Worse, even. I know it may not make sense to you, but I’d rather die with my memories intact than live out an eternity as a wolf who never knew you.”

  I lean closer, placing a hand on his chest
, right over his heart. He places his hand over the top of it, the other still caressing my cheek. “We can start over,” I say through my tears. “I can help you. We can rebuild all that you’ve lost.”

  He shakes his head. “As soon as my memories are gone, I won’t know you. In my wolf form, I’d sooner eat you than love you. I won’t be the same person I am now—or ever was—if I forget. I might become no more sentient than an animal, and I’m no longer content with that. Neither are the others. At least the pups will live full lives as human children. They may lose their memories, but there’s still hope for them to find joy even if the rest of us are gone.”

  His words spear my heart. As much as I want him to live, I understand his reluctance to become a stranger to himself. What would I choose if the same choice was given to me? Who would I be if I forgot Elliot, forgot our time together? In the month we’ve spent together, he’s changed me. He’s taught me to believe in love again. To trust. Even when I thought he’d betrayed me, I maintained a kernel of everything I learned with him inside my heart. Nina helped me find it. Regardless of the pain involved, Elliot has made my life better.

  But is it worth my life? If I could save myself and others, but at the cost of my memories with Elliot—

  My breath catches in my throat, nearly choking me.

  If I could save…him.

  At the cost of my memories with Elliot…

  Would I?

  My stomach twists at the sudden realization that Elliot’s values aren’t the only ones that have changed. Mine have shifted too. I’ve come to value something greater, and maybe I always have. I will always fight fiercely for my freedom and independence, but neither of those things conflict with being in love…so long as that love is true, kind, and honest. At the end of the day, love is my highest value. And in this hour, in this moment, my relationship with Elliot is the very thing I treasure most.

  I surge forward and wrap my arms around Elliot’s neck, pressing my lips to his. For a moment, he’s frozen in my arms, as if too afraid to reciprocate. Then he softens, his lips yielding beneath mine. I luxuriate in their warmth, their softness, knowing this is the last time I’ll ever feel them. Tears continue to stream down my cheeks, but I keep kissing him until I’m out of breath.

  Until I can finally bear to pull away.

  I frame his face with my hands, locking his eyes with mine. “You might become a monster if you lose your memories…but maybe I won’t. Maybe I can still learn to love again, even if I must lose you.”

  He furrows his brow. “What do you mean?”

  I give him a tremulous smile, my lower lip quivering. “I read the book about the boy and the dog. Do you remember it? At the end, the dog dies. He sacrificed himself to save the boy.”

  He nods. “It’s one of the ones I told you I’d read. One that made me want to throw it clear across the room after I finished it.” He lets out a sorrowful laugh.

  “I felt the same. And yet, it was a beautiful story, one that has stuck with me ever since. When we danced at the ball, and I acknowledged my feelings for you, I felt like the little boy in that story, knowing I was going to lose you. I was prepared to let you go. I knew it was for the best that you marry Imogen, even though it hurt.”

  He closes his eyes and presses our foreheads together.

  “But I’m not the boy after all, Elliot. I’m the dog.”

  He pulls back slightly, eyes wide and panicked. “Gemma—”

  “Never forget, no matter where you go, that I love you, Elliot Rochester.”

  Then, lurching to the side, I clasp my fingers around the stem of the withering rose and snap it cleanly in two.

  41

  A thorn pierces my skin, but I pay it no heed. All that matters is that the broken rose is in my hand, the final petal still intact. Then I close my eyes and rush to say, “I willingly and of my own volition, sacrifice my greatest treasure.”

  The last thing I hear is Elliot’s cry of alarm.

  Then there’s nothing.

  No, not nothing but a darkness that seeps into violet at the edges. I blink, trying to clear my vision, and little by little, the violet grows until it’s eaten away at the darkness completely. What’s left is an unsettling view of where I just was—in the rose courtyard. Except, I don’t feel like I’m truly in it. I feel like I’m in a world between worlds, a time outside of time. My body feels both too heavy and too inconsequential. My mind feels slow and cloudy yet buzzing with activity at the same time.

  Am I…dead?

  The thought doesn’t frighten me nearly as much as it should.

  I look to the side, where Elliot last was. He’s still there, but he appears frozen in time, hand outstretched toward me as if he were in the midst of trying to stop me from plucking the rose. I’m surprised I know it’s him, for the more I study him, the more I realize his body isn’t as it should be. Instead, it’s nothing more than his shape made up of millions of buzzing violet particles of light. Come to think of it, everything in the courtyard is composed of the same swirling light, forming the cobblestone floor, the falling snow, the bench, the brambles. I look down at my hands and find they too are nothing more than purple light. The rose, however, is gone.

  “You seek to break the curse,” comes an ethereal, musical voice. I see no source for it, but it feels like it’s coming from all around, singing through the violet particles of light. There’s only one word for it. Magic.

  It takes me several seconds to find my own voice, and when I speak, my tone is hollow, flat in my ears. “Yes, I am ready to sacrifice my greatest treasure.”

  Suddenly, the swirling purple light shifts and sways, and in its place is a scene that occurred minutes before. Or was it hours? Seconds?

  Elliot and I are crouched on the floor of the courtyard, foreheads pressed together. Then, as if we’re moving in reverse, I see him wipe a tear from my cheek. Next comes the moment I sank down next to him on the ground. The particles shift and form another time we were in the courtyard, fighting. My heart—or whatever is left of it in this strange place—clenches tight as I see the hate written over my face. I’m relieved when the scene disappears and brings me to the night before that, the night he told me he loved me. I watch everything in reverse, from our tangled naked bodies to our first kiss in the library. My only regret is that I hadn’t told him I loved him then. At least now I finally have.

  The play of light and memories continues, and I watch it all. Watch every moment I experienced with Elliot, all the way to a scene where I crouched down at a wolf’s side and discovered he was smeared with tomato sauce. I remember how furious I was then, but now all I can do is laugh. And cry. The two are mingled now. Sweet and sorrow.

  The voice speaks again. “This is your greatest treasure? Your time with the Wolf King?”

  My heart sinks with the full weight of truth. “Yes.”

  The violet light shifts again, and I see a vision of myself, walking down the streets of Vernon. My smile is cold, cruel, and haughty. I make eye contact with no one. Handsome gentlemen stop to tip their hats, but I pay them no heed. I’m too wrapped up in my false persona to notice. Then Imogen is at my side and we are chatting on the sidewalk. Ember stands off just to the side and smiles at me. I acknowledge her with a smile of my own, but I know we’ll never be friends in this version of reality. In this version, all I can focus on is scheming my way out of the conversation. I’ll never open up to anyone, never tell a soul the truth about what the scandal in Bretton did to me. I’ll only ever be fake. Protected. Afraid.

  This is the person I return to being if I sacrifice how Elliot has changed me.

  “This is what you are willing to trade your greatest treasure for?”

  I already know my answer, but I take a few moments to consider it. Even though Elliot has made my life better—made me better—my life isn’t over. If I found the ability to love and trust once, then I can do it again. Even if I can’t, knowing what I know now, that Elliot and his wolves will be alive with their
memories if I make this sacrifice…it’s enough.

  “Yes, I am willing.”

  The ethereal voice speaks one last time. “Then the curse has been served and severed.”

  The violet light disappears in a rush, flying all around me and away from me like a violent storm wind. Then it’s gone, leaving me right where I was before in the rose courtyard.

  Time comes unfrozen, and Elliot dives for me, nearly tackling me in the process. He fumbles for my hands but finds them empty. “The rose,” he gasps.

  I look over my shoulder, expecting to find it still there, to discover the last few moments in that strange, magical place was nothing more than a dream. A hallucination. But the rose is gone.

  Elliot takes me by the shoulders, eyes swimming. “What did you do, Gemma?”

  Words dissolve from my lips. I’m too afraid to speak, too terrified that if I do, I’ll be whisked away to that reality I glimpsed. The one where we never met. The one where I forget him.

  All I can do is stare, memorizing the color of his eyes, the shape of his mouth. The way his hair falls into his eyes. The sound of my name coming from his lips. The timbre of his voice, rumbling low in his chest. The melody of his heart.

  Take it away, I think. I’m ready.

  “Say something.”

  A flash of light, brighter than the sun, comes from behind Elliot. We both startle and face it, but no sooner than it arrives, the light goes out, leaving a shockingly beautiful female in its place. I know at once that she’s fae. Even from several feet away, I can tell she’s at least an inch or two taller than me, with a slim, willowy build, pale skin, and pointed ears. Her hair is a silvery shade that reaches just below her chin. It’s smooth and straight, slicked away from her face in a style I’ve never seen worn by a female. Her clothing is most unusual, with tight black pants and a slim-fitting shirt that looks more like a waistcoat than a proper top.