Beauty’s Beast(52)
Author: Amanda Ashley

Kristine . . . She had made the last few months both heaven and hell. How had he ever lived without her? He prayed she would be delivered of a healthy child, that she would not grieve overlong for him, but go on with her life, find a man who would love her and be a good father to her child . . . the child he would never see. He had hoped the curse would not be complete until after the babe was born, but he feared it was not to be.

He glanced over his shoulder as a soft sound alerted him to the fact that he was no longer alone. “Valaree.”

“I woke and you were gone.”

He nodded.

“It will be all right,” she said quietly.

“I wish I could believe you.”

“You must be strong. You must have faith.”

Slowly, he shook his head. “Faith? In what? The mage’s ability to reverse Charmion’s spell? I know it cannot be undone.”

“Then why are we seeking his help?”

“Because I have to try. I’ll do whatever he asks, pay whatever price is demanded, endure any pain.”

“You love her very much, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I shall add my prayers to yours that he may be able to undo the witch’s spell. And if he fails . . . if the spell cannot be broken, our pack will welcome you. You need not be alone.”

He nodded, remembering her offer to be his mate. What would it be like, to live as a wolf, to surrender, once and for all, to the beast growing within him, to know, as he hunted prey and howled at the darkness, that he had once been a man? And if he were to relinquish the memory of his humanity, would he become, at last, fully a beast?

“Erik?”

“Leave me, Valaree.”

“As you wish.”

“Valaree?”

“Yes?”

“I appreciate your help, your concern.”

She nodded, then turned and walked away.

He stared up at the dark sky. “Please,” he whispered, “please don’t let the transformation be complete until I’ve seen my child.”

The mage’s castle was located at the top of a high mountain. Witches and wizards alike seemed to have an affinity for high places, Erik mused as he climbed out of the saddle. He helped Kristine dismount and then he turned the horses loose in a fenced paddock that materialized in front of them.

“I guess he’s home,” Erik muttered as hay and water magically appeared.

He took Kristine’s hand in his and they stared at the fortress. Three stories high and made of shimmering white stone, it seemed to glow in the faint light of the winter sun. Colorful stained-glass windows were set like rare jewels in the white stone. Alders and beeches dotted the property; wildflowers bloomed on the hillside. Several cats roamed among the bushes or basked in the sun. Brightly colored birds flew among the treetops.

“What an amazing place,” Kristine whispered. “So different from Charmion’s dark abode.”

“Indeed.”

Hand in hand, they walked up the stone steps to the castle. The door opened of its own accord.

“Ready?” Erik asked, and at Kristine’s nod, they stepped inside.

“Welcome.”

Erik stared at the woman before them. She was small and petite. Plain of face, she had long white hair, a beak of a nose, and golden eyes.

“I am Fidella. Caddaric has been expecting you. He bids me make you welcome. Warm baths await, as well as food and wine. If you will come this way.”

The woman did not wait for their reply, did not look back to see if they followed.

After a moment, Erik and Kristine followed the woman down a wide corridor. Two doors stood open at the end of the passage.

“The one on the right is for you, my lady,” Fidella said with a wave of her hand. “The one on the left is for you, my lord.”

Erik felt Kristine’s hand tighten on his and knew she did not wish to be separated from him.

“Your master is most generous,” he said, “but we will not need two rooms.”

“The rooms are connecting, my lord.” The woman offered Kristine a reassuring smile. “You need have no fear, my lady. When you are ready, ring the bell, and I shall bring you refreshment.”

“Thank you,” Erik said. “But before we do anything else, I should like to see your master.”

“He understands your impatience, my lord, and bids me tell you he will see you this evening.”

“Why not now?”

“He is in the tower, in the midst of preparing a spell, and cannot be disturbed. Please, make yourself comfortable. If there is anything you need, you have only to ring the bell.”

“Thank you,” Erik said again.

The woman inclined her head, then took her leave.

Erik watched her walk away, then, still holding Kristine’s hand in his, he stepped through the doorway on the right. The room, painted a soft shade of pink, was large and airy. And round. A canopied bed stood in the center of the floor. Three multicolored windows were set in the wall. Several thick furs covered the floor. A fire blazed cheerfully in the raised stone hearth. There was a small cherrywood table and two chairs on one side of the bed, a full-length mirror on the other side. A large round wooden bathtub stood beside the hearth; a delightful fragrance wafted from the water. There was also a small four-drawer chest covered with a fine linen cloth. A gown of soft mauve velvet was laid out on the foot of the bed.

“It’s lovely,” Kristine murmured.

Erik grunted softly, wondering if she meant the room or the gown. The very air reeked of magic, of power. It crawled over his skin, yet he detected no undercurrent of evil or malice.

Dropping his hand, Kristine went to test the water. It was hot, but not too hot. A froth of bubbles swirled over the top of the water, iridescent in the lamplight.

Erik crossed the room and opened the connecting door. A quick glance showed that the second room was exactly like the first, save that it was blue.

“Enjoy your bath, Kristine,” he said.

“It will be all right,” she said reassuringly. “You’ll see.”

He nodded, then went into the other room and closed the door. For a moment, he pictured her disrobing, slipping into the tub’s scented water. He wished fleetingly that he could join her in the tub, that he could take the soap from her hand and—

He jerked his thoughts away from the images that rose in his mind. Though she did not appear repulsed by his appearance, he could not bring himself to let her see him unclothed, could not endure the pity in her eyes.

He undressed and slid into the tub, noting for the first time that there was no mirror in this room, nothing to reflect his image back to him.