Rumpel's Prize (25 page)

“With these. Every morning, a letter would appear on our doorstep. He wrote a note every day, detailing what you’d done the night before. The foods you ate, the clothes you wore, and how many smiles you shared.”

“Wh…what?” Frowning, she yanked on the stack and with fumbling fingers opened the first one.

A scrawling, arching type of handwriting that was both bold and masculine stared back at her.

Today she smiled ten times at me. I told a joke that made her laugh. The blue dress offsets the startling clarity of her eyes. I fear, Betty Caron, that I may be falling madly in love with your daughter, and I vow to you that she will remain safe.

~Ever your servant, Rumpelstiltskin

“That was his final note. There all there.” She sighed. “One letter a day.”

“Oh my gods.” Shayera covered her mouth, eyes glistening with tears. “He never told me of these.”

Betty’s grin was short. “And now I see you here, hale and whole, and my heart is glad. And yet I know you are not, and it shatters me. When I met your father, everyone told me I was a fool to believe in him, to trust in him.”

Gerard stood and wrapped his arm around her mom’s shoulder. “
Mon ange
, I’m so glad you did not listen.”

She sniffed. “Me too.”

Gerard nodded. “I was the devil in disguise until I met your mother. We can change, little one. And as much as it galls me to admit it, I do believe the man may love you too.”

Danika sniffed. “Gods, love, it does it to me every time.” Then she grabbed a hanky and cleared her nose very loudly before sighing. “And now comes the bad news. He’s dying, love.”

“What!” Shayera blinked, because that was the very, very last thing she’d expected to hear. But when she looked at her godmother, hoping it was just a very ill-timed and horrible joke, Danika did not grin.

“Aye. You stole a part of his soul.” Her look was knowing and thoughtful.

“But, how did I do that? And why wouldn’t he let me know?”

“You did it when you left, dear. You won the games, and a price was to be paid. He paid it. By leaving, you took his joy with you. A demone can only live if they’ve got goodness to counterbalance the darkness inside them. Didn’t you know that?” She slathered some lemon crème onto her scone and, smiling, took a huge bite. “Oh Gerard,
mon dieux, mon ami
, this is simply heaven!”

But Shayera couldn’t smile. She’d never known, he’d not told her anything. Grabbing hold of her mother’s wrist, she squeezed it hard. “Mom?”

Betty patted her shoulder. “How long does Rumpel have, Danika?”

“Oh, hours I’d say.” She smiled again.

“What is so bloody funny about this?” Shayera shrieked, jumping out of her chair and knocking it to the floor.

“Oh, no no, don’t mistake me, love. The moment you arrive, he’ll be right as rain.” She chewed some more, swallowed, and then took a sip of her juice. “It’s just that I love love and this couldn’t have turned out more perfect. Don’t you think?”

“But his son…” Shayera’s heart beat harder with mixtures of excitement to see Rumpel again and dread for his boy.

“Will be fine.”

“Because I’m returning?”

“Oh no. No, I wish. Although, you did see the boy in the bowl of water, correct?”

“Yes, but how…”

“Oh shush, dear.” Danika wiped the corners of her mouth with her napkin, “I’ve got spies everywhere, as I’ve said. I’ve thought long and hard on it and have determined that you can affect the boy by using your charms. It’s not a permanent solution, mind. But it’ll do, and at least it’ll sustain him long enough until you return from your quest.”

“My quest?”

“Mm.” She nodded and pointed at her empty plate. “Amazing, Frenchman. Always amazing.” She shoulder-bumped Briley and he gave her thumbs-up and a toothy grin. “Now, the quest.” She patted down her rose-petal gown. “Yes, right. Quest. I’ve learned of an amulet, said to bring sanity during a werewolf’s full moon. In theory, that very powerful amulet could also work to stave off the boy’s madness. He’d have to wear it eternally, but, it would be the good counterbalance needed to save his soul. So.” She dusted off her hands. “Who’s ready for a new adventure?”

Blue eyes glowed and Shayera laughed. All would be well.

“Mom. Dad. Briley. I promise not to stay away so long from now on, but—”

“It’s time to go,” Betty whispered and then drew her into her rose-scented hug.

Giving all of them kisses and asking Briley to tell Uncle Kelley that she loved him too, Shayera turned to Danika.

“Take me home, fairy.”

“With pleasure.”

“Rumpel!” She shrieked his name to the heavens the moment Danika deposited her on the drawbridge.

She wasn’t sure if he’d hear her, but suddenly the gate groaned open and a lone figure stood staring at her.

Blond and sexy and looking for all the world completely bewildered. “Carrot?”

Biting her bottom lip, she ran for him, stopping when she was within an inch of his arms. The sky cracked open and rain poured down, soaking them both to the bone, but neither one was ready to move.

“I love you.” She said it, poured it out there, and held her breath.

His lashes fluttered shut. “I thought you’d never forgive me. I.” He grabbed his chest, wincing. “I was ready to go.”

“You idiot,” she growled at him. “Why would you do that for me?”

He smirked. “Because if you love something, you let it go.”

She licked the rain off her lips, heart trapped in her throat. “If it stays away, it was never yours.”

His stare was intense. “But if it comes back?”

“I always belonged to you.” Her smile grew wide. “I just didn’t know it right away.”

He inhaled. “I love you more than my next breath.”

“You proved your love to me when you let me go and didn’t even tell me how doing that would doom you. You told me once that after the games, if I willed it, if I wanted to see you, you’d show me.”

Gone was his scheming, calculating ways. The smolder. The roguish, impish grin. In its place was a man who seemed vulnerable and it made her melt.

“There will never be any going back for you, Shayera.”

“Rumpel, even if you didn’t show me, I could never leave you again. My home is here, with you. And before you turn, I have something very important to tell you. I know how to cure your son.”

His eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Danika told me there is a quest I need to go on. Fairy lore speaks of an amulet known as the Song of Life. It is guarded by dark elves deep in Under. It is said to break the madness of the moon’s curse and she believes it will heal your son.”

He clapped his hands on hers and she gasped as her curse activated, sucking at his soul. But he clung tighter and then pulled her roughly into him for a kiss.

“That damn fairy would figure it out first. I should have had more faith.” He kissed her cheek. “But I will not allow you to undertake such a dangerous quest, and certainly not alone.”

She jerked her hands from his. “Rumpel, I’m a grown woman, I can certainly handle myself. I managed you, after all.”

He chuckled but shook his head. And there was a definite bounce to his movements now. Rumpelstiltskin was attractive when he smoldered and went all broody, but he was dangerously handsome, doubly so when he laughed with joy.

Her pulse fluttered.

“My love, you handled me quite well. No doubt about that. But the dark elves are no joke. They are warrior trained and a siren’s charms are no match for their deadly arts. I would die before I let anything happen to you.”

“I’m not letting you leave me.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I can’t do that either, Euralis will only feed by my own hand. But there is one in my castle who thirsts for vengeance. Giles!”

The sifting of sulfur emanated a moment before the butler appeared.

“Giles?” She frowned and turned to stare at the attractive, gentlemanly manservant.

“Sir?” The valet bowed his head.

“There is a quest, an amulet to resurrect my son. The way is dark, and dangerous, and full treachery.”

A grin spread slowly across his face and Shayera was shocked to note that he fairly vibrated with excitement.

“Yes. I do it gladly.” Then his eyes turned to Shayera and with a bow of his head, the servant’s clothing he’d been wearing transformed into a warrior’s kilt and leather armor. His hair was no longer brushed back and short, but long and held back by a dark satin ribbon. A huge broadsword appeared in one hand and a spear in the other.

“Mistress, your return is most fortuitous. I thank you.”

As Giles turned to go, Rumpel cleared his throat. “There is a girl by the name of Lilith Wolf. She lives along the howling winds. Seek her out. Tell her the price of my boon is to follow you wherever you lead. And then her debt is cleared.”

Giles’s nostrils flared; clearly he was unhappy at the thought of taking anyone with him. But he did not argue with Rumpel either. With a final bow, he left.

Another fog of smoke appeared then. It was Dalia and she was laughing, beaming from ear to ear. “Bless your heart, miss. I knew you’d win him, I did.”

She wrapped her arms around Shayera and pulled her in for a big hug, then curtsied and bowed to Rumpel. “I’ve ordered the cook to set about making the biggest feast imaginable, all must be well for the wedding, no?”

Shayera blinked. “Wedding?” She shook her head. Everything was happening almost too fast for her to follow.

Rumpel grabbed her hands again, and this time when her energy took from him, she didn’t feel it as cold, but as warm and inviting. He was letting her in and it didn’t hurt, and for the first time she realized it never needed to. The witch had designed the curse to keep her chosen mate from suffering.

He must have realized the same thing, because he picked her up and twirled her around. She laughed, clinging to him for all she was worth.

“Now, or thirty years from now, Shayera Caron,” he said, his deep voice massaging every inch of her soul, “you will be mine forever. And what does a date matter, really?”

He was so right. “It doesn’t. The moment I lay eyes on you, I’ll belong to you alone, for all eternity. The rest is just formalities.”

“Exactly, my pet.” He tapped her nose, but there was a dark, excited light growing in the back of his gaze, and she felt her own body respond in kind. “Tell Cook to make it grand. We will invite all of Kingdom, to include the Caron clan. Tomorrow.” He never took his eyes off Shayera.

Dalia frowned. “But, sir, she’s here now. And—”

“And tonight she’s all mine.” With a snap of his fingers, Dalia disappeared and a thick smoke screen shielded them. “Right now, I wish to be alone with my mate. I’ve waited long enough.”

She swallowed and nodded. “Me too.”

“My love, do not scream.”

“Scream?” How hideous was he?

He stepped out of her arms and took a deep breath, and she prepared herself for any and all possibilities. A black slug with tentacles for arms and razor-sharp teeth? A man made of stone? Made of wood, like Pinocchio? Anything… everything, knowing no matter what it was, she’d take him any way he came.

“Remember I love you.” His words faded out and then he was a tower of smoke, a pillar that shifted and moved like a churning funnel, bringing with it the scent of whiskey and smoked cherry.

When the smoke cleared she blinked.

His skin was darkest onyx but gleamed as though it’d just come out of a fire. His eyes were the brilliant red of his servants’, and his hair just as black. But he was different too. Upon his head were two small, curved horns. Below his navel he was a little furrier than the average man and he had a tail.

She looked back at his face and there was where she saw Rumpel. His beautiful face hadn’t altered in the slightest; if anything, he appealed far more. A siren had a weakness for men, but there was no man more potent than her dark prince.

“You’re a satyr.” She beamed and her heart became so large, so warm, and each beat was an echo of his name, each thump a cry of love. She moved into him.

“You are not disgusted?” His voice was dark and deep and made her insides quiver.

When she neared him, he wrapped his arms around her waist and she sighed, breathing in his scent. “I’m so grateful you’ve shown yourself to me. That you trusted me. We make a fine pair, you and I. The nymph and the satyr. Don’t they tell stories of us?” She wiggled her hips when his hard thickness brushed against her center.

He hissed. “I could entrance you; it is what my ilk does. But I want you to choose me, Shayera. So I forgo my use of magic—I will not charm you to love me.”

Framing his face, she tamped down her own magic, buried it deep, deep inside, because she wanted that same declaration from him. “I choose you with all that is inside me. With all that I am. I am yours. And, satyr, you are mine. All mine. Forever. Say it.”

His brow twitched, but his grin was pure sex. “I am yours. Dark heart, body, and soul. And you, my lovely siren, you are all mine.”

Then he was pushing her down and the clouds surrounded them and rose up to meet them, creating a bed.

She gasped as her clothes vanished and then laughed when he fell on top of her, pressing his weight down on her. Spreading her legs wide, she opened for him, wrapping them around his waist and shifting her hips up just enough so that her center brushed his own.

They hissed in unison.

“I will not last long,” he chuckled.

“Nor I. But if we have an eternity, then who cares, right?”

“Shayera.” He pushed himself off her just enough so that they could look at each other without going cross-eyed, and his muscles trembled. “This is your first time and I wish to be gentle.”

“I do not want gentle. I’m a nymph, I was born to do this.”

“Only with me,” he growled and the ruby of his eyes glowed a bloody crimson.

“Yes.” And with that word she forced him inside her.

Rumpel thrusted deep, penetrating her to her very core, and she wept because the immense strength and power that poured from him was glorious and dangerous and almost frightening.

“Give me everything, Shayera.” His hot words were whispered in her ear. “All of you. All your charms, all your passions. This is magic, love,
this is magic
. What you and I have, this is real. Now. Give it to me.”