Beauty’s Beast(62)
Author: Amanda Ashley

“I cannot say for certain, but I would think that her power would be even stronger once the transformation is complete.”

“Is there nothing you can do to render me invulnerable to her dark magic?”

“Invulnerable?” The wizard stroked his beard, his expression thoughtful. “Why? Do you think she will decide to turn you into a toad?”

“I don’t know. I only know that Kristine and my child will not be safe so long as Charmion lives.”

“Ah.” Understanding sparkled in the wizard’s eyes. “Do you truly think you can destroy her?”

“I don’t know, but I intend to try.”

“It will not be easy. She rarely leaves Cimmerian Crag.”

“I will go to her.”

“And do what?”

“Become her pet, as she intended. I will crawl on my belly, and lick her feet, and do whatever else she asks of me.”

The wizard nodded slowly. “It is a plan so simple, so wise, it may very well work. And yet it is not without risk. Should you fail, her vengeance will most likely be swift and cruel.”

Erik lifted his left hand. “More cruel than this?”

“I shall see if I can conjure a spell that will offer you some measure of protection, but it is doubtful. And even should I find one, there would be no way to prove its effectiveness until you are face-to-face with Charmion, and then it will be too late.”

“It is a risk I am willing to take.”

To the wizard’s credit, he did not try to dissuade him. “I shall protect Kristine and your mother with my life. Do not fear for their safety.”

“You will not tell either of them we had this conversation.” It was not a question.

“No.”

With a nod, Erik left the tower room.

Caddaric stared after the lord of Hawksbridge Castle, thinking he had never known a man of such courage.

With a sigh, he went to his desk and sat down. “So, my Fidella,” he said. “We must find a spell that will withstand Charmion’s power. But first we must bring a bit of Christmas cheer to this sad household.”

Cawing softly, the white raven flew across the room to perch on the wizard’s shoulder.

Kristine couldn’t believe her eyes when she went downstairs late that morning. Christmas had come to Hawksbridge. An enormous tree trimmed with glittering baubles, silver garlands, and tiny candles stood in one corner of the great hall. Smaller trees were scattered around the room. Vases filled with flowers that didn’t bloom in the winter added splashes of color to the room. Garlands of holly draped the walls. A fire crackled in the hearth.

After a quick look around, Kristine ran up to Erik’s room. “Erik, you must come downstairs, now!”

The door opened a crack. “Is something wrong?”

Reaching through the doorway, she tugged on his arm. “Come! You have to see this!”

Unable to resist the excitement in her voice or his own curiosity, Erik allowed her to lead him downstairs.

For a moment, he wondered if he was dreaming. But one look at the broad grin on Caddaric’s face and Erik knew the wizard had been hard at work.

His mother, sitting at Caddaric’s side, smiled at him. “Merry Christmas, Erik.”

He nodded. “And to you, as well.”

“It’s wonderful!” Kristine exclaimed. “Caddaric, did you do this?”

“Of course he did,” Erik muttered. “We have our own Father Christmas.”

“Guilty as charged,” the wizard said. “So, what shall it be first? Breakfast? Or . . .” He waved his hand and several gaily wrapped packages materialized under the tree. “Presents?”

Kristine and Edith looked at each other. “Presents!” they exclaimed.

The gifts were opened quickly—a delicate silk scarf and a pair of gloves for Edith, a pair of warm slippers for Kristine, a robe for Erik, a new cloak for Caddaric.

When Caddaric and Edith went to see about breakfast, Erik reached into his pocket and withdrew a silver box. Handing it to Kristine, he said, “This one is from me.”

“What is it?”

“Open it and see.”

Trembling with excitement, Kristine lifted the lid. Inside, nestled on a bit of blue velvet, was a silver filigree heart on a slender silver chain. “Oh, Erik,” she breathed. “It’s exquisite.” She quickly put it on. “How does it look?”

“Not as beautiful as you.”

She gazed up at him, her eyes sparkling brighter than the candles on the tree, her cheeks flushed with excitement. Taking his hand in hers, she pressed it to her breast. “Thank you, Erik. I’ll wear it always.”

Erik felt his throat tighten later that day as he watched his mother become Caddaric’s wife. Kristine stood at his side, her hand in his, while silent tears slipped down her cheeks.

Seated behind them in the small chapel, he heard Mrs. Grainger sobbing quietly. Her husband and sons sat around her. Leyla and Lilia sat across the aisle from the Graingers, tears welling in their eyes. The white raven perched on the back of the front pew, amber eyes unblinking as the wizard repeated his wedding vows.

Erik felt Kristine’s hand squeeze his, knew she was remembering the day she had become his bride. Did she ever regret it, he wondered as he squeezed her hand in return. He slid a glance at her, thinking, as always, how beautiful she was, how precious she had become to him. The sea-green gown she wore made her eyes glow like emeralds. Her hair gleamed like fine gold in the light of the candles. It was long enough now that he could see how wondrous and thick it had once been. He would have liked to see her hair before it had been cut, to have held her in his arms clad in nothing but the mantle of her hair, to have felt the silky fall of golden tresses slide over his skin when they made love.

He shook the thought aside. It was useless to wish for that which could never be. He closed his eyes as the priest offered a prayer, and added one of his own, giving thanks for the woman beside him, for the love she had given him, for the child she carried beneath her heart. No matter what the future held for him, he knew that, man or beast, he would always carry the memory of Kristine’s love.

The priest said the final amen and Erik watched as his mother embraced her new husband. Never had he seen his mother look so happy, so serene. She smiled as she turned toward him.

“Be happy, my mother,” he murmured, and enfolded her in his arms.

“Thank you, Erik.”

He held her close for a long moment, regretting again that he had sent her from him, that he had denied himself the comfort she might have offered him. One more regret, when he already had so many.