The Fairy Tales Collection

THE FAIRY TALES
COLLECTION

BEAUTY

(Book One)

By Elizabeth Kelly

Copyright 2016 Elizabeth Kelly

This book is the copyrighted property of the author, and may
not be reproduced, scanned or distributed for commercial or non-commercial
purposes.  Quotes used in reviews are the exception.  No alteration of content
is allowed.

Your support and respect for the property of this author is
appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to
persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. 
The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used
fictitiously.

Adult Reading Material

Cover art by The Final Wrap

BEAUTY

Mirabelle Vale, library assistant,
bookworm, and downright dangerous with a slingshot, knows exactly who sends her
a single red rose every year – Bennett Saxby.  After saving her life when they
were children, he disappeared and the yearly rose is the only proof of his
existence.  When her childhood crush returns home – all grown up and a positive
beast of a man – Mirabelle is eager to have the man of her dreams.  But Bennett’s
hiding his true nature and wants to keep his “Belle” from discovering the
truth.

* * *

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Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

He wanted to shift.  He
needed
to
shift – it was the only way to defeat them – but thinking that way was madness. 
Better to take the beating than expose who he really was.

His bear growled angrily at the thought and
for one brief, heart-thudding moment, it nearly broke free of its bonds.  He
held it back grimly as the boys above him punched and kicked mercilessly.  He
curled into a ball, trying his best to protect his head and bit back his grunt
of pain when the ringleader delivered a heavy kick to his ribs.

Tears streamed down his face and his bear howled
with rage.  It tore through his thin barrier of control and the shift began to
happen.  He was losing control, his bear’s instinct to survive was too strong
and he moaned helplessly as one of the boys brayed shrill laughter.

“Look, Kevin!  He’s cryin’!  Crybaby!  I
told you he wasn’t so tough!”

Hair was beginning to sprout on his arms
and legs and he growled deep in his throat.  The sound was lost in the shouts
and laughter of the boys standing above him in a tight circle.  His shift was
interrupted by the scream of one of the smaller of his tormentors.

A soft whistling noise followed by another
scream of pain and outrage and the tormentor danced away, holding the side of
his head as blood dripped through his fingers.  The others were looking around
cautiously now and he raised his head and sniffed the air.  A scent drifted to
him, a wonderful scent of books and cinnamon, and his bear made a low whimper
of happiness before subsiding.

“What’s wrong with you, Tim?”

The largest of the boys, already tall for
his age, scowled as the boy moaned again and stared wide-eyed at him.

“Somethin’ hit me.”

“What are you talking about?”

Tim showed him his bloody hand as more
blood dripped from his scalp.  “Somethin’ hit me, I said!”

“What do you – “

Kevin gave his own scream of pain and
grabbed his leg as the other boys backed away uneasily. 

He sat up, holding his ribs and panting
harshly as the scent grew stronger.  It made him feel safe, it made him forget
the pain in his body and he watched eagerly as the bushes parted and a girl
stepped out.

She was tall – much taller than him – and
she was dressed in jean shorts and a t-shirt.  Her long dark hair hung in two
messy braids down her back and her glasses had slid down to the end of her
nose.  Her bright blue eyes studied the circle of boys, ignoring him
completely, as he stared at the slingshot in her hand.  She had it pulled back
and aimed at Kevin and he sneered at her.

“Well look who it is – fatty four-eyes! 
Get out of here!”

“Get away from him,” she said.

“Mind your own business, dummy!”  Kevin
snapped.  “Go home before we beat you up too!”

“Kevin, we can’t beat up a girl,” one of
the other boys said nervously.  “My mama says you ain’t never supposed to hit a
girl.”

“Shut up, Marty!  Besides, Belle ain’t no
girl.  She’s a fat pig.  Isn’t that right, fatty?” 

Kevin screwed up his face and made oinking
noises.  The girl flushed and without saying another word, let the stone fly
from her slingshot.  It hit Kevin in the chest and the oinking noises cut out
with a harsh wheeze as he grabbed his chest.

“That hurt!”  He squealed, sounding
remarkably piggish himself, as the girl grinned fearlessly at him and deftly
loaded another smooth stone into the slingshot.

“Get lost, Kevin.  Or I’ll knock out your front
teeth.”

“There’s only one of you and seven of us,”
Kevin sneered.  “And you’re just a stupid, fat pig, who don’t know – “

He howled with pain when she shot him
again.  This time the stone hit him in the jaw and he danced around, howling
and squealing as tears poured down his face.  Quick as a snake, she loaded
another stone and shot one of the other boys in the arm.  He turned and ran as
she popped a stone into the slingshot and aimed it at another.  He ran and with
a wild grin on her face, she aimed and shot the stone into his ass.  He
shrieked with pain, grabbing at his butt as he disappeared through the trees. 
She laughed hysterically as the other boys ran too, ducking and running for
cover.

She aimed her slingshot at Kevin’s crotch
and the boy’s face paled before he chased after his companions.  She watched
them go, holding her slingshot with the steady hand of a predator until the
noise of their retreat had disappeared.

She lowered her weapon and smiled at him. 
He stared silently at her as she sat down on the ground beside him.  Her legs
were covered in scrapes and scratches and she itched absentmindedly at a bug
bite before pushing her glasses up her nose.

“You okay?”

He nodded and she patted his arm
tentatively.  “They’re jerks and they don’t fight fair.”

He remained silent and she cocked her head
and stared at him before smiling.  “My name’s Mirabelle but everyone just calls
me Belle.  What’s your name?”

He wanted to reply but he was mesmerised by
the gleam of her dark hair, overwhelmed by the perfect blue of her eyes,
drowning in her intoxicating scent.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

He opened his mouth and she nodded
encouragingly.  When there was only silence, she frowned and leaned a little
closer.  “Can’t you talk?”

“Bennett,” he whispered.  “My name is Bennett.”

“Bennett.”  She spoke it softly, tasted it
on her tongue before grinning.  “That’s a funny name.  I like it though. 
It’s,” she struggled for a moment to find the right word, “unique.”

“How old are you?”  He asked.

“I’m seven.  How old are you?”

“Nine.”

He struggled to his feet, holding his
throbbing ribs.  She popped up beside him, dusting off the seat of her jean
shorts with one hand before shoving her slingshot into the front pocket.  He
was oddly embarrassed to see that she was a foot taller than him and probably
outweighed him by thirty pounds.  She was big for a girl but it didn’t negate
the fact that he was small.  Hell, he was small for a human boy - as a bear
shifter he was downright tiny.  His father was worried.  He could see it in the
way he looked at him sometimes and he was constantly plying him with raw meat,
but his mother brushed off his father’s concerns.

“Don’t you worry, my love,” she always
said, “you’ll grow big and strong soon enough.”

He realized that Belle was speaking to him
and he cleared his throat.  “What?”

“I said I’ve seen you at school before. 
You play with that big blond boy.  I forget his name.”

“Duncan,” he said as he rubbed at his
ribs.  Already the pain was beginning to fade.

“You live in that giant house on the hill,
right?”

He nodded and she grinned happily.  “It’s
kind of a creepy looking house.  I live in the trailer park over on Compton
Avenue.  Do you have any brothers and sisters?”

“No,” he said.

“Me either,” she said.  “It’s just my dad
and me.”

She lapsed into silence and he scuffed a
bit of dirt with the toe of his sneaker before mumbling, “Thanks for helping
me.”

“You’re welcome,” she said.  “It wasn’t a
fair fight.”

“Where did you learn to do that?”  He
pointed to the slingshot poking out of her pocket.

“From a book,” she said.  “I like to read. 
Do you?”

He shrugged and she grinned again at him. 
“I go to the library almost every day.  It doesn’t cost any money to borrow the
books and it’s like being in a different world.  You can escape, you know?”

“Why do you want to escape?”  He asked.

She bit at her bottom lip.  “I – sometimes
being in this world isn’t much fun.”

He stared at the freckles scattered across
her cheeks as she sighed loudly.  “I guess I should go.  Do you need me to walk
you home in case those boys come back?”

He glared at her, his nine-year-old pride
roaring to life.  “I’m not afraid of them.”

“I know but they might come after you again
and you’re not very big.”

She spoke in a matter of fact tone but it
still made him scowl.  “I’m big enough.  They just took me by surprise.”

“Right.” 

She continued to stand next to him and he
hesitated a moment before saying, “You wanna see something cool?”

“Sure!  Hold on a sec.”  She disappeared
into the trees before reappearing with a blue backpack.  She slung it across
her back and grinned at him.  “What is it?”

“You’ll see.”

She followed him deeper into the woods and
kept up a steady stream of chatter.  He didn’t mind.  He was naturally quiet
and it was nice to listen to her talk.  By the time they had reached the large
oak tree, she was breathless from the quick pace and he waited patiently as she
caught her breath.

“You gotta go through these bushes.”  He
pointed at the large cluster of bushes behind the tree and she peered at them
before glancing around.

“I’ve never been this deep in the forest
before,” she said.  “Is it safe?”

“I’ll keep you safe,” he proclaimed.

She studied him carefully before nodding
and they squirmed their way past the thick bushes, arms thrown over their faces
to protect them from the heavy branches.

“Almost there,” he grunted.  He wished he
could change into his bear form, the thick fur would protect him, but humans
had no idea shifters existed and it needed to stay that way.  He’d lost track
of how many times his father had lectured him to always stay in his human form
when around humans.  If they discovered their existence they’d take him away
from his family to a lab and poke him with needles and cut open his stomach to
look at his insides.  He shivered all over at the thought.

“Hey, you okay?”  Belle asked.

She placed her hand on his back and another
tremble went through him at her touch.

“Yeah,” he muttered.  He pushed through the
last of the bushes and jerked with surprise when Belle grabbed his hand.

“Help me, Bennett,” she puffed.

He tugged firmly and she popped free of the
bushes with a muffled grunt.  He hesitated and then pulled out the twigs that
were entangled in her braids.

“Thanks.”  She grinned cheerfully at him.

He blushed a little before stepping aside. 
Belle’s eyes widened and the look of pure delight on her face brought a surge
of happiness to his belly.

“Oh my gosh, it’s so pretty,” she
whispered.

She took a couple steps forward and stared
wide-eyed at the rose bush.  The bush was large, nearly ten feet tall, and it
was covered from top to bottom in bright crimson flowers.  She reached out and
touched one of the flowers delicately.

“So soft,” she whispered again.

“Do you like it?”  He asked eagerly.

“I love it,” she breathed.  “The flowers
are perfect, aren’t they?”

He nodded and when she sank to the ground
and stared at the roses, he sat beside her. 

“My daddy used to give my mama flowers,”
she said.  “It made her so happy.  He gave her flowers almost every week.  She
would have loved these roses.  They were her favourite.”

“You could take one back to her,” he said.

She shook her head.  “Mama died last year
in a car accident.”

“I’m sorry.”

She smiled at him but he could see tears
glistening in her bright blue eyes.  “I miss her a lot.  Daddy does too.  He won’t
say that he does but he cries when he thinks I can’t hear him and now he – he
drinks a lot.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again.  He felt
helpless and stupid.  Not knowing what else to do, he leaned forward and tore a
rose from the bush, ignoring the thorns that pricked his fingers.  He handed it
to her and she brought the flower to her nose, inhaling deeply, before smiling
at him.

“It smells wonderful.”

She smelled wonderful and he leaned a
little closer, inhaling the warm scent of old books and cinnamon as she held
the rose carefully. 

“You’re bleeding!”  There was a note of
alarm in her voice and he stared at the blood dripping from his fingertip.

“You shouldn’t have picked the flower,” she
scolded gently as she took his hand.  Using the edge of her t-shirt, she wiped
away the blood.  Another drop of blood welled up and she frowned before
pressing her shirt against his fingers.  “Stupid thorns.”

They sat silently for a moment and she
smiled happily when she checked his fingers again and no blood appeared.  His
fingertip had healed completely and she gave him a curious look.  “You’re a
fast healer, huh?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said before snatching his
hand back.

“Thank you for bringing me here, Ben.”

He wondered if he should tell her that it
was Bennett not Ben but decided he liked the way she shortened his name. 
“You’re welcome, Mirabelle.”