Beauty’s Beast(63)
Author: Amanda Ashley

He released her so that Kristine could offer her own good wishes, and then they left the chapel to partake of the supper Mrs. Grainger had prepared.

Erik sat at the head of the table, his mask again in place in deference to the priest and the household staff. He declined anything to eat, merely sipped a glass of wine.

He knew, without knowing how he knew, that the curse would be fulfilled before morning, and so he sat there, his gaze on Kristine’s face, imprinting her image firmly in his mind, memorizing the sound of her voice, her laughter, knowing he would have only his memories to sustain him in the long, lonely days ahead.

Kristine woke slowly, smiling as she felt the baby move. Soon, she thought, soon her child would be born. Knowing how Erik loved to feel their baby move, she reached for his hand, only to realize that she was alone in bed.

Where had he gone off to so early, she wondered and then, with a sigh, she closed her eyes, remembering the night past. He had held her tenderly, his dark eyes filled with love. He had caressed her, his hand gentle, not to arouse her, but simply, he had said, for the pleasure of touching her. They had looked at each other and smiled as the baby gave a vigorous kick. Though the curse was much in their thoughts, they had not spoken of it. Instead, they had spun dreams for the future, dreams they had both known would not come true. Later she had fallen asleep in his arms.

Suddenly overcome by the need to see him, she slid out of bed. She was reaching for her robe when she saw the note on her dressing table.

Her name, written in Erik’s bold hand, was written across the top. Her heart seemed to skip a beat as she picked up the letter.

My dearest Kristine,

My time grows short and so, while I am still able, I take pen in hand to tell you how much I love you, how I have cherished these days as your husband, how sorry I am for the grief and pain I have caused you. Be assured that your future is secure. I have made full provisions for you and the child. Hawksbridge is yours for as long as you wish.

Should you marry and wish to leave, then it will go to our child.

Do not grieve for me, beloved. It is my wish that you be happy always, that you will remember your promise and find another husband to protect you and be a father to our child. Know that my every thought will be only for you for as long as human reason remains. Know that . . .

The words ended in a scrawl and a splash of ink.

She frowned, wondering why the letter ended so abruptly and then, with a cold, clear certainty, she knew. Slowly, feeling as though she were caught in the icy grip of a nightmare, she turned around.

He was lying on the floor at the far side of the bed, his great black head resting on his paws.

The letter fell from her fingers as she wrapped her arms around her belly. A sob rose in her throat as she stared down at him. His eyes, still gray, still his eyes, looked up at her.

“Erik, oh Erik.”

He whined low in his throat.

She shook her head, not wanting to believe, praying that she was having a bad dream, that she would awake to find him sleeping beside her.

Dropping to her knees, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Oh, Erik,” she whispered.

He whined again. The sound tore at her heart and she buried her face in his fur. Tears stung her eyes and burned her throat, coming faster and faster, until she thought she might cry into eternity.

He whined again, and then she felt the rough velvet of his tongue on her face, licking her tears.

Slowly, she sat up. “It is you, isn’t it?” She shook her head as she stared into the dark gray eyes she knew so well. He was there, inside the wolf’s body. “All this time, I knew it was going to happen, and still I hoped it would not.”

How did it feel, she wondered, to be able to think like a man, to know you were a man, and be trapped inside the body of a wolf? She could not imagine the horror of it.

She didn’t know how long she sat there, her mind numb, tears running down her cheeks as she stroked the thick fur. She couldn’t seem to stop crying. It seemed so impossible that this huge black wolf could be the man she loved.

A knock at the door propelled her to her feet. Dashing the tears from her eyes, she called, “Who is it?”

“Nan. Mrs. Grainger sent me to tell you that breakfast will be ready shortly. She asked me to see if you would be coming down to join Lady Trevayne, I mean Lady Caddaric, and the wizard.”

“No. Please send something up. And Nan, would you ask Mrs. Grainger to send up a good portion of the roast beef we had for dinner last night?”

“Roast beef, ma’am? For breakfast?”

“Just do it, Nan, please.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Feeling numb inside, Kristine took off her sleeping gown and put on a day dress of dark gray silk. She was ever conscious of the wolf—of Erik—lying on the floor, his eyes watching her every move.

How long would he stay here, she wondered. How long before he forgot who he was? Would he seek out Valaree and her family? It pained her to know that he would probably be happier with the werewolf clan than here, with her.

She placed a hand over her belly as she felt the baby’s lusty kick. Poor little babe, she thought. Never to know your father. How shall I ever explain it to you?

“Lady Kristine?”

She opened the door to Caddaric. His gaze searched her face. “It’s happened, hasn’t it?”

She nodded and stepped back so he could enter the room.

Caddaric drew a sharp breath as Erik stood up. “Have you tried talking to him?” the wizard asked. “Does he understand you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Erik, bark once if you understand me.”

The wolf barked once, his gray eyes filled with frustration and anger.

“I cannot bear it,” Kristine said softly. “Is there nothing you can do?”

“I’m afraid not.”

There was another knock at the door. Kristine blinked back her tears as she crossed the floor to admit Nan. The maid’s eyes grew wide when she saw the wolf standing beside the bed.

“It’s all right, Nan,” Kristine said, taking the tray from the girl’s hands. “Thank you.”

Nan pointed at the wolf with a hand that trembled. “Where did that come from?”

“He is my pet,” Caddaric said smoothly. “You needn’t be afraid. He won’t harm you.”

“Your pet? I’ve never in all my life seen a wolf that big! Why, he’s as big as a pony. How did he get here?”

Caddaric raised one brow. “I conjured him, of course. I am, after all, a wizard.”