Just A Kiss: (The Frog Prince) (Tangled Tales Series Book 2) (2 page)

Even the frogs seemed to mock him, and he didn’t like it in the least. In aggravation, he pulled his sword from his sheath again. But before he could even use it, the girl shot forward and picked up the frog in one hand and brought it to her chest.

“Boregard, I think it’s time we leave.” She bent over and picked up a travel bag and he heard the clanking of glass jars from within it. Then she did the oddest thing. She puckered those red lush lips of hers, and lifting the frog to her mouth – she kissed it! At the same time a fog swirled around her, and he lost sight of the odd woman. When the air finally cleared, he realized the girl was gone.

Arnon rushed forward with sword in hand, looking at the ground and behind the rock but couldn’t find her anywhere. He looked one way and then the other, but no one seemed to be around other than him and his family.

“Where did she go?” He turned back to the others. Wolf was prone on the ground in the middle of his shift, and in a few seconds he was once again a man. Stefan dug into his travel bag and threw Wolf a tunic to hide his naked body. Wolf stood up and donned the clothing, his body weak and still shaking from the wretched transformation.

“She’s a witch,” said his father, leaning forward in the saddle. He spoke in a low tone as if he thought someone might overhear them.

“Are you sure?” Arnon felt very confused by what just happened.

“Arnon, unless you’re blind and daft from being a wolf yourself for the last year, I’d think you’d figure it out by now.” Wolf released a deep breath and looked up to the moon and Arnon wasn’t sure he wasn’t going to howl next.

“You shouldn’t have shifted,” warned Stefan, glancing at their surroundings. “The girl might have seen you, Wolf.”

“What difference does it make?” he asked. “She’s a witch so she probably already knew. Besides, I couldn’t stand not being able to laugh at our foolish brother after he fell into the swamp.” Wolf started to laugh, looked at Arnon’s clothes dripping with swamp water, and then laughed louder.

Arnon figured he deserved it for being duped by a woman, but at the time he’d had no idea she was a witch. He’d been so enamored by her beauty and odd choice of clothing that he hadn’t thought she had magical powers. “Do you think she knew you’re a warlock, father?”

“You fool,” spat Stefan before their father could answer. “If she’s still around and listening, she certainly knows now, little brother.” He scanned the grounds once more and rested his hand atop the hilt of his sword.

“Let’s head back and talk this over,” said Lucio turning his horse. “Now that we know magic is involved, it might not be so easy to continue with our plan after all.”

Arnon turned to mount his horse, and there on the shore were a dozen frogs lined up like soldiers and staring at him. A shiver ran through his body and suddenly he couldn’t wait to be away from this place. He climbed atop his horse and as he rode away, he swore he could hear the frogs laughing at him as well.

Chapter 2

Freya watched from behind a tree as the big, black wolf turned into a man. She gasped and held her hand over her mouth, not sure what she was seeing.

The naked man had the same face as the man they’d called Arnon who had tried to take her with him. Arnon rattled her nerves. It had felt good to be touched by the man when he helped her to her feet, but it wasn’t something she was used to. His grip was strong, his palm wide, and his fingers long. He was tall and very handsome. She felt small next to him.

His face seemed almost sculpted with the beauty of the angles of his cheeks and his strong nose. Dark grey eyes had gazed at her under his craggy brows, and she’d almost felt invaded by his perusal.  His black hair was so long it nearly touched his waist. She liked his hair a lot, as the length of it made him unique and very intriguing.

She wondered who he was and who were the men with him? Were they warlocks – witches such as herself? She’d never known a male witch and only had contact with Marni and the other few witches in the coven. As well as her mother. She’d have to ask her mother about this when she got back to the castle.

“Shall we go, Gar?” She raised the frog up to her lips and kissed it, feeling the tingling sensation flow through her body. Every witch had unique powers. Her special powers were being able to move things, as well as transport herself anywhere she wanted to go by just kissing her Familiar – the frog she’d named Boregard.

She found herself standing at the postern gate back at Castle Fane just like she’d expected. But what she didn’t expect was to see someone sneaking out the hidden gate this late at night.

She ducked down behind a bush and watched. “Gar, someone’s coming,” she told the frog in a whisper. He croaked back his reply and she understood his words in her mind.

It’s your father.

“It’s my father? What would he be doing up this late?” Her stepfather – or father as she called him so he wouldn’t know the truth, slipped out the postern gate and met up with a mercenary who appeared from the shadows.

She wished now her magic would work inside the castle walls. If so, she could have transported herself right back to her bedchamber and she wouldn’t be in the position of possibly being discovered.

They exchanged a few words and her father gave the man a small bag. Freya was unable to hear their conversation. Then her father disappeared back into the garden and closed the postern gate behind him. She couldn’t sneak back into the castle now. If she did, her father might still be lingering and find she’d left the grounds. She’d have to go somewhere else for a little while.

She kissed the frog and thought of the coven of witches in the forest inside the stone circle. Her head instantly swirled and her body tingled as she transported. When the fog cleared she was standing in the forest but she wasn’t with the coven. Instead, she found herself looking at the remains of a smoldering fire inside their sacred stone circle.

She watched as mercenaries took the charred remains of a last body off a spike and threw it atop a pile of other burnt bodies. When she realized these were her friends - the other witches of her coven - she almost cried aloud. Tears streamed from her eyes and the muscles in her legs shook so much that she had to sit down atop a log to keep from falling over.

Burning at the stake was the punishment for those accused of being witches. Their secret had been guarded for so many years, that she wondered how this could have happened.

Tears streamed from her eyes, but she remained silent. She couldn’t let the mercenaries know she was there. Then another horrific thought flitted through her brain. What if her father had something to do with this? And what would happen if he found out she was a witch too?

She jumped to her feet as she thought about her mother. It was crucial she get back to the castle anon. Her mother was ill and on her deathbed and could be in danger.

She turned to leave, but cried out as she bumped into someone, fear shooting through her that it was one of the hired killers. “Oh!” she shouted, only managing to gain the attention of the mercenaries who looked up and then headed in her direction to investigate. “Marni, it’s you,” she said, relived to see her friend alive. “I thought you were dead.” She reached out to hug the witch, but the woman held up her hand to stop her.

“Freya, you need to get out of here before they discover you’re a witch and burn you too.”

“How did you escape?” she asked. “And why weren’t you able to help the rest of the coven?”

“I wasn’t here at the time,” she told her. “I went back to my hovel for something, and it happened before I returned. There was nothing I could do to stop this massacre. I’m sorry.”

“Well, I’m just happy you’re alive. We’ve got to get back to the castle and warn mother.”

“You go, Freya. I’ll hide in the woods and try to throw the mercenaries off our trail. And hurry, because they’re headed in our direction.”

“I wish I could know if it’s safe to return or if my father is still at the postern gate like I just saw him. I don’t want him to discover that I’ve left the castle.”

“I’ll tell you.” She pulled an ornate hand mirror out of the pouch that was slung over her shoulder. The mirror was decorated in gold swirls and had a small cherub with angel wings and devil horns atop the handle. The woman held it up and gazed into it.

“What’s that?” asked Freya.

“It’s a magic mirror that lets me see what is happening anywhere and everywhere.”

“Is that what you went back for?”

“It is.”

“I’ve never seen that before, Marni, and I’ve been to your hovel many times. Where did you get it?”

The woman pushed it back into her travel bag without explaining and looked the other direction when she spoke.

“You need to go, quickly. There is no one by the postern gate and you’ll be able to sneak in easily. Now go, before you’re discovered and have to explain to your father why you’re here.”

“Thank you, Marni. It’s so good to have someone I can talk to.” Tears filled Freya’s eyes at the thought of the needless, horrible deaths of the other witches. If she had been with the coven tonight instead of at the swamp, that could have been her fate too. She raised the frog to her lips and kissed it. Her head spun and her arms tingled as the fog enshrouded her. Then Marni disappeared from sight as Freya was transported back to the castle.

Chapter 3

Arnon paced the battlements of Babeny Castle the next morning, looking out over the merlon toward the swamps just the other side of Dartmoor. He couldn’t get the mysterious woman out of his mind and he had to know more about her.

“Longing to run in the forests of Dartmoor in your wolf form again, brother?” Wolf climbed the stone stairs of the battlements with his wife, Winifred, or Red, right behind him. His wife was small with bright red hair and wore that silly red cape everywhere that Wolf had given her.

“Nay, I loathe the year I spent trapped in the body of a wolf.” Arnon’s jaw clenched just thinking about it. He gazed without focus over the walls of the battlements as the first rays of sun lit up the vast sky. “I hate that old witch, Hecuba, and what she did to our family.” He looked back to his brother who now had his arm around his wife’s shoulder. “I only wish father could have convinced her to remove your curse as well, brother. I feel your pain of living as a wolf.”

“As twins, we feel each others’ pain sometimes, but don’t even pretend you feel the pain of my shifting because you didn’t have to go through it every day,” said Wolf.

“And neither did I have the pleasure of living as a man, either. So in a way, I felt more pain than you ever will, brother.”

“Stop it, you two,” said Red with a smile. “Arnon, you are free now, and though my husband is still cursed, I don’t mind him shifting into a wolf. I am still able to have him in his human form when it really matters.” She looked up at her husband and they shared a kiss. Arnon watched them from the corner of his eye, feeling lonely and a little jealous. He wondered how it felt to be lord of a castle such as this, as well as to have an army at his command and a beautiful wife at his side.

A tinge of darkness lurked inside Arnon, leftover from his curse. In a way, he was almost happy that his brother was still destined to be a wolf every night. Wolf had good things come to him much too easily. Being his twin, Arnon could only hope that he’d have such good luck come to him as well.

“What are you referring to, Winifred?” asked Arnon. “In the bedchamber, I’m assuming?”

She giggled and looked up to Wolf and they shared a kiss again.

“We’re working on making an heir,” Wolf told him proudly. Arnon was happy for his brother, but pitied himself at the same time.

“You have a good life, Wolf, and I’m sure you will indeed have an heir. And it’ll be a boy as well.” Arnon looked back out over the forests of Dartmoor, suddenly wondering if being a wolf had been better than having to watch his brother flaunt his success in his face. “Or at least a boy – half the time,” he added with a slight sense of satisfaction. “The other half of the time your son might be . . . a wolf.”

He glanced back to see the looks on both Winifred and Wolf’s faces now and they weren’t smiling.

“Do you really think our baby would be . . . cursed too?” Winifred looked up to her husband with wide eyes. “I never considered the possibility.”

“Neither did I,” admitted Wolf with a frown. Then he reached out and ran a gentle hand over his wife’s head. “Don’t worry, Red, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“I’m not sure if we should be . . . I mean mayhap we should wait for a while to have a baby.” Winifred seemed upset by Arnon’s suggestion and now he regretted bringing it up at all. He liked the girl and didn’t want to upset her or put ill thoughts in her head.

“We’ll talk about this later,” growled Wolf. “Now go on down to the great hall and I’ll meet you there shortly. I want to talk to my brother alone.”

“Of course. I understand.” She kissed him once more and the smile was back on her face. Then as she walked away, Wolf reached out and pinched her on the bottom. She squealed and jumped and shot him a seductive smile. Then she laughed and hurried on down the stairs.

Once she was gone, Wolf turned back to Arnon with a scowl on his face.

“Why did you have to put that doubt in her head?”

“Why not? I’m sure you’ve had the same thought. Your baby might shapeshift into a wolf the same as you.”

“Well, that’s just the chance we’ll have to take and I won’t have you ruining things for me.”

“Ruining things? How could I? Do you mean that now Winifred might not be so willing to spread her legs for you? What a pity.”

Wolf rubbed the back of his neck and looked out over the battlements as well. “I’m a goddam wolf half the time, Arnon. I have a very insatiable lust for coupling and a talent in the bedchamber that pleases my wife enough to risk the fact our child might also end up being a shifter. I’m not worried about it, but it seems you certainly are. So why don’t you tell me exactly what you’ve got stuck in your craw.”

“God’s eyes, Wolf, you’ve got everything in life a man could possibly want.” Arnon picked up a loose stone from the wall and hurled it over the battlements. It fell with a loud plunk into the waters of the moat far below. The sound of the water had his heart racing for some reason and he didn’t understand why.

“I have everything? What about our brother, Kin? Everything he touches seems to turn to gold.”

“True. Our golden-haired brother has had it easy too – all except our parents naming him Rumplestiltskin.” Arnon chuckled. “If I were him, I’d want to be called Kin too.”

“What you said about me isn’t true, Arnon.” Wolf laid a hand on his shoulder. “I could have had everything I ever wanted, but instead I forfeited that when I gave up being a full-fledged man so your curse could be broken instead of mine.”

“Aye, you did. I’m sorry.” Arnon suddenly felt like a fool for ever having these feelings in the first place. “Please forgive me for my pettiness. I’m not sure what’s gotten into me lately. It must be some side effects from the removal of my curse.” He held out his hand to his brother. “Friends?” Wolf looked down and just shook his head.

“You bastard, we’re more than friends. We’re brothers.” They clasped hands and patted each other on the back in a form of reconciliation.

“Hey, why am I not included in the brothers’ pact going on up here?” Stefan’s head popped up from the stairs of the battlement, and he made his way toward them.

“Come here, you over cautious son of a jackal,” said Arnon. One at a time they clasped hands with Stefan as well.

“Father’s waiting down in the great hall for us,” Stefan informed them. “He arrived just this morning from Tavistock with an entourage of his soldiers. He said he wants to head back toward Slapton because some of his men saw smoke on the horizon and he thinks something is burning.”

“Burning?” Wolf looked up and sniffed the air. He quickly made his way to the other side of the battlements and Arnon and Stefan followed.

“There,” said Arnon, pointing in the direction of Slapton, but over the forests of Dartmoor. “I see smoke.”

“What do you think is burning?” asked Stefan, surveying the situation while craning his neck to get a better look.

“It’s probably a village,” said Arnon, but somehow he knew it wasn’t true. He looked over to his brother who had the ability of being able to smell scents from long distances even when he wasn’t in his wolf form. “What do you think, Wolf?”

“It’s not a village burning,” he said, raising his head and sniffing the air again. His teeth clenched together and he shook his head. “I don’t like this at all.”

“What is it?” asked Stefan. “Can you tell?”

“I can.”

Arnon felt his twin brother’s pain in his heart. “It’s something bad, isn’t it?”

Wolf just looked at him and shook his head. “It’s not a village burning that I smell on the wind, but rather human flesh.”

“What?” Stefan’s craggy brows lifted in surprise. “Who would be burning people in the woods? Mayhap there is going to be a siege on the castle.”

“My men said they saw mercenaries heading toward Slapton, and they went in the direction of Castle Fane.” Lucio, their father, walked the battlements with his cloak lifting in the breeze behind him. It always startled Arnon to see his father in his guise since the man he portrayed was also the man who had whipped and tortured both him and his brother.

“Tell me,” said Arnon in a low voice. “What is it?” His stomach involuntarily lurched as he waited for his father’s answer.

“I’m going to guess it’s not the bodies of soldiers that are burning,” said their father, looking out over the battlements as well. “I’ve felt a disturbance in the air ever since last night. I’m sorry to say that I think someone is burning witches.”

“Witches?” Arnon’s head snapped around, and all he could think about was the beautiful witch he saw at the swamps last night. The smoke wasn’t far from that area. From what he’d seen of the girl with her little tricks, he knew if she wasn’t already dead, she was in a lot of danger.