Deceit: A Beauty and the Beast Novel (20 page)

Through our time together, he began to share
his hopes for his future as a beast; and he stopped trying to see
Rose. However, he didn’t ask me to marry him again. I thought he
had perhaps come to the same conclusion I had. He would care for me
easily in my youth, but not as I weathered.

I tried not to dwell on our future, and gave
up trying to quell what I felt for him. I loved the beast and would
never stop. I would stay with him for as long as he would have
me.

Near the end of summer, an evening storm
swept through the area, and the beast and I decided to linger by
the fire in the library, one of our favorite pastimes. A warm fire
lent a soft glow to the pre-twilight gloom as I reclined on the
lounge. My bare feet were propped comfortably on the cushions, and
the beast sat on the floor so he could idly run his fingers through
my hair as I read aloud.

He stopped me occasionally to feed me some
tidbit from the tray on the table or to ask a question about the
text. I enjoyed both kinds of interruption.

When I finished the passage, I closed the
book softly and sighed. Neither of us talked for a moment, both
content as we were.

“I cannot recall when I have ever spent as
pleasurable an evening as tonight,” I said, twisting to look up at
him.

He gave me a soft look and nodded. But I
barely noticed. My words struck a deep chord, and the solution to
his enchantment opened wide in my mind. I bolted upright with a
jolt.

“Of course!”

He eyed me in concern.

“Did I witness an epiphany?”

I stared at him, torn. If I shared with him
what I’d just realized, he could free himself and become a man and
age like any other. Time would not make me leave. Yet, he wasn’t
any man. He was a lord. And what lord wanted a scholar’s daughter,
even in her youth? None. He would likely marry one of his own
station. However, if I kept the information to myself, I would win
a few more years of his consideration as a beast.

His caring gaze held mine, and I knew I
couldn’t keep the truth of my revelation from him. He’d suffered
his punishment long enough.

I forced a wide grin and ignored the
tightening in my chest.

“Yes, you did. A life changing one. If I
asked you in what ways you might pleasure me, what would you
say?”

“I would rather show you,” he said with a
playful growl and a leer.

“If I asked you what things please me, what
would you say?”

“We are not talking about sexual pleasure
any longer, are we?” he said. With a tender look, he studied me for
a moment. “Books please you. Learning. Walking outside. Visiting
with your father.”

“So, if I were to ask you for a night of
pleasure what would you do?”

His eyes widened, and I knew he’d come to
the same conclusion. For the past fifty years, he’d been trying to
sexually please the enchantress for nothing.

A storm grew behind his eyes, and I quickly
scrambled to my knees and gently held his face.

“You’ve spent time with her over the years.
You must know something of what she likes,” I whispered. “Go to
her. Try something new.”

He hesitated, and I saw it was because of
me. It gave me a small hope. Perhaps a lord could care for a
scholar’s daughter. I gently ran my hand along the fur of his
neck.

“I am content to stay here with you just as
you are, but you are not the same beast you were. Your people need
you. You need to bring prosperity back to the north.”

He rose reluctantly, kissed my brow, and
left the room.

Feeling bereft, I went to my room and tugged
on a nightgown. My heart ached with what the new day might offer.
There was the possibility for great happiness and even greater
despair. I hoped that once he turned into a man, he would not
forget me, as I’d long ago predicted.

I’d thought saving my virginity would be all
I needed for a future husband because I’d never considered the
possibility that the beast would claim my heart. I knew my
foolishness now. If he cast me aside, the beast would hurt me as
he’d promised he never would.

Sighing, I tried to let my worries and
heartaches free; and gradually, sleep claimed me.

* * * *

Before the sun yet rose, a distant clatter
of breaking dishes woke me, and I realized our attempt had failed.
As much as I wanted to keep the beast, I wanted to set him free to
be the man he should be.

I rose from bed and followed the sounds that
continued as I hurried through the halls. A rather loud bang came
from the direction of the kitchen, and my heart broke for the
beast. I rushed to the room, then froze.

Tennen stood with a sack in one hand,
stuffing it with enchanted food. He spotted me and froze in shock
as well.

I recovered first, pivoted, and took off
running. His steps rang out behind me. Too close. He caught me by
my braid. I cried out as he tugged me back against his chest. My
heart hammered. I bent forward slightly, intending to hit him with
the back of my head, but he spun me and tossed me over his
shoulder. He sprinted out the door before I could inhale.

I kicked my legs and tried to twist from his
grip, but he held tight. Bracing my hands on his back, I raised my
head enough to see the vines move and felt a surge of hope.
However, they didn’t move for Tennen. They stretched for Egrit, who
ran toward me, and tangled around her trunk and the trunk of her
man. Swiftly came thundering toward us only to be caught in the
vines, too. Mr. Crow took flight but was snatched from the air.
Despair robbed me of my fight. Why would the beast do this?

In the predawn light, Tennen raced through
the open gates. His shoulder dug into my middle. Nausea rose.
Oblivious, or maybe uncaring, he continued on.

We reached the quiet village of Konrall with
me on the verge of vomiting. Regardless, as soon as I saw the first
house, I opened my mouth to scream, knowing the butcher and the
candle maker would come to my aid. Before I could utter a sound,
Tennen threw me to the ground and slapped my mouth.

“Not a sound,” he warned.

“Piss off!” I cried as I tried to scramble
away.

He used his body to pin me and stuffed my
mouth with a cloth. Then, holding my arms, he tossed me behind his
head and carried me like large game. My breath whooshed out of me
for a moment. I still struggled, though. The effort earned me a
sharp bite to my inner thigh.

He turned into the alley beside the bakery,
and I started to panic. When he kicked his booted foot against the
door, I struggled wildly. I tried to use my tongue to push the gag
from my mouth as I yelled for help.

“Tennen,” the baker cried in delight, eyeing
me.

“Bread for life,” Tennen demanded
harshly.

I understood what he meant to do and
thrashed about, hoping he would drop me.

“One loaf a week until the day you die, or
one loaf a day for four months.”

Tennen nodded just as I managed to wriggle
one hand free. I clawed at his face, forgetting the gag in my
desperation to be free.

“Inside, quickly,” the baker panted.

As soon as the door closed, Tennen swung me
from his shoulders and hit me. My ears rang, and I stumbled back,
falling against something before crumbling to the ground.

The baker spoke, but I couldn’t understand
what he said. It sounded as if I had water in my ears, making his
words quieter and garbled. I blinked in an attempt to clear my
cloudy vision. Tennen’s legs passed in front of me. I traced them
listlessly to the door. The room spun as the door closed behind
him. I struggled to my feet then vomited.

The baker cried in dismay and wrapped a
meaty hand around my upper arm to half drag me from the room. I
struggled, knowing my pathetic attempts didn’t deter him in the
least.

He led me through the storefront, where his
sister already sat.

“Help.” Through my oddly filtered ears, my
plea came out slurred.

She looked at me with concern, but the baker
waved her aside.

“She...” The water garbled a few of the
baker’s words. “...to recover.”

He opened the door behind the storeroom. It
led to a sitting room. He guided me to a lounge and pressed me into
the already compressed cushions. I batted his hands away, and he
cuffed me upside the head. Not as hard as Tennen, but he hit the
same spot and brought back the nausea.

His hand drifted along the line of my
throat, down to the neckline of my pathetically thin nightgown. The
palm of his hand skimmed my breast. The touch did not send a
familiar tingle to my center, just another rolling wave of nausea.
I encouraged revulsion with a forced gag.

The baker jumped back, giving me a moment’s
reprieve. I brought a hand to my head, rubbing the temple and
blinking, trying to clear the fog.

“Let me go,” I said.

“I don’t think so.” His eyes didn’t leave my
breasts.

I wanted to cry but, instead, looked for a
way to escape. The baker used my distraction and pushed me back,
pinning me down with his weight.

I couldn’t breathe. Panic set in, and I
pushed at his shoulders. I barely registered the feel of his hand
as he shoved the hem of my nightgown up over my waist. I wore
nothing underneath.

I twisted in an effort to move his weight
aside enough to draw a decent breath.

The bruising force of his knee parted my
legs. Air or not, I would not let him take me. I struggled harder,
ignoring the spots that danced in my vision.

The door opened, and I sobbed in relief.
But, the baker didn’t pause. He began thrusting his hips at me. To
my horror, I felt the head of his penis bumping my opening.
However, he was unable to penetrate due to his massive stomach.

“Get off!”

He ignored me and pulled back enough to try
to readjust his position. I craned my neck, looking to the door.
Tennen, Sara, the smith, and the baker’s mother stood there.

“Get him off!”

No one moved. The baker thrust forward
again, and his penis came a little closer to my opening. He wiggled
one hand under my hip and repositioned me with a grunt.

“Sara!” I screamed.

She looked away, her eyes filled with tears.
Tennen smirked. The baker’s mother looked deeply troubled, but did
not move.

“Help me!”

The baker’s mouth moved close to my ear.
“Now you are mine.”

I turned back toward him, ready to bite his
damn nose off. He tilted his hips forward as I opened my mouth with
an angry cry. He arched back to avoid me, and the head of his prick
bumped to the side, missing my opening completely.

“I will never be yours.” I gave up trying to
push him away and clawed wildly at his face. My fingernails left a
furrow along his cheek.

“Hold her hands,” he panted, twisting his
head out of the way.

“I think not,” a deep voice said from the
doorway.

The menacing rumble caused the baker to
pause mid-hump. He looked up.

I used the distraction to claw the baker’s
face savagely. He cried out and tumbled off the lounge, holding his
face in pain. I scrambled to my feet, smoothing down my thin gown
as if it could protect me. My legs and arms shook.

“She is mine,” the baker panted. “You saw us
bedding.”

“You stunted excuse for a man,” I said,
turning and kicking him in his soft middle. “I will never be
yours.”

The baker groaned and curled in on
himself.

“You heard the lady,” the newcomer said.

I raised my head from the baker to view
those who had stood by so callously.

Patrick had pulled Sara to the side. Tennen
stood close to them, his hateful expression still on me. I marched
right up to him, balled up a fist, and hit him in the mouth. He
cried out in shock, and I cradled my hand.

“Bryn was foolish to ever see value in a
prick like you,” I said, reigning in a sense of calm.

I looked at Sara with condemning eyes but
said nothing. Her husband’s hand rested on her shoulder. His face
remained impassive.

Finally, I looked at the baker’s mother, who
glanced at her son with a brokenhearted expression. She removed a
cloak from the back of a chair, shuffled toward me, and placed it
over my shoulders.

While she helped me cover myself, I looked
at my rescuers. The man stood tall. So tall he must have had to
duck to fit through the door. His clipped dark hair missed his
collar by an inch. His stern brow shadowed his deep blue eyes as
his gaze remained on me.

His companion moved slightly, calling my
attention. She stood just behind him, her soft hand on his
shoulder, much like Patrick’s hand on Sara’s shoulder. I found that
odd, and I ignored her compassionate, soft expression as I focused
on her hand. Something seemed so familiar about that hand.

As I stared, my eyes rounded. I looked up at
the face. The wrinkles and yellowed teeth were gone but there was
no doubt. Rose’s face. Aryana’s hand.

I looked back at the handsome, stern man, my
gaze sweeping him from head to feet. Alec. Liege Lord of the North.
The beast had broken the curse.

My heart leapt with joy, until I realized he
made no move toward me. I looked at him questioningly, and he
grimaced ever so slightly as he met my gaze. Inside, I shattered.
I’d known he wouldn’t want me after he returned, but I hadn’t
expected his complete abandonment. My heart broke.

Beaten, nearly raped, and cast aside by the
one I loved, I’d suffered enough.

“I want to go home,” I whispered, averting
my gaze from the pair. “My father’s home.”

“There is a carriage outside, waiting for
you,” the Liege Lord said.

He stepped aside, and Aryana/Rose copied his
movement. Betrayed by the woman I’d grown to care for more than my
own sisters.

Walking stiffly from the room, I left the
bakery with my head high. Several people stood in the store’s front
room. I ignored them all.