Withering Rose (Once Upon A Curse Book 2) (9 page)

I'm mesmerized.

My fingers reach for her skin, to feel if
she's real. Surely someone so perfect can't truly exist.

What is her magic?

Who is she?

Why is she here?

And more importantly, why did she lead me to
her?

"Don't move another inch."

The snarl catches me off-guard. My heart
leaps into my throat as I snatch my hand away and turn around all
in one quick motion.

The beast is watching from the doorway,
wearing the same midnight cloak from the day before. But with the
golden glow filling the room, I can just see the bottom edge of his
lip and the strong curve of his masculine chin. For some reason,
the sight comforts more than scares me. He's a man, after all. His
face is a normal face. But in my mind, I still imagine his eyes are
red and glowing, feral. The gaze I cannot see shifts, and he turns
his head slightly to the side. But it's enough for me to notice the
edge of a faint scar marring the otherwise unblemished ivory skin
to the left of his lips.

He takes a step closer.

Too close.

He towers over me, at least a foot taller
and maybe twice as wide. I've never felt so small, so frail, in my
entire life.

"What are you doing in here?" he growls
deeply, simmering with anger.

I keep my shoulders straight, rigid. I'm
done cowering before him. "I was tired of sitting in my room. I
needed to get out for a little while."

He snorts. "That's funny. When I stopped by
this morning, you seemed perfectly content to stay in there
forever."

"Of course I did, when the other option was
going anywhere with you." The retort rolls off my lips with
surprising ease. I clench my jaw to keep it from dropping.

The muscles around the beast's jaw clench
too, but his hands tighten into fists, covering unspoken rage.

A satisfied feeling settles over me. I got
to him. Take that.

The feeling dissipates a moment later when
he leans intimidatingly forward, making the space between us taut
and tense. "What are you doing in here?"

I take a step back, looking over my shoulder
at the woman. "I felt the magic. I just wanted to see where it was
coming from."

He inhales sharply. "Don’t go any
closer."

I focus my attention back into the shadows
shrouding his face. "Who is she?"

"None of your business."

"She's beautiful," I murmur, wondering if
she's special to him, if a beast is capable of love.

"I said, none of your business. Now step
away."

But I don't want to step away. Something
about her magic is magnetic, pulling for me, as though I've slipped
into a spinning vortex and there's no choice but to get sucked
inside.

My fingers reach back, pressing against the
bed. So close.

"Stop!" he barks. "I won't tell you
again."

But I feel outside of myself, as though I
have no control over my movements. My mind grows fuzzy and
disjointed the farther back my fingers slide. Magic sizzles on my
skin, my magic yearning to connect with hers. My arm continues to
stretch toward her while my gaze stays on the beast. He's trembling
as though his body is fighting with his mind for control. I wonder
if I should feel afraid. But my emotions are so far away. My mind
is distant. My whole body bends back toward the woman, until…

We connect.

My eyes go wide as the gentle pull on my
magic becomes a furious yank, and my whole body jerks toward her,
throwing me off-balance as I tumble over, landing on the bed. My
magic leeches into her, and I'm so utterly confused, I can't catch
up with what's happening. My magic doesn’t affect people. I can't
heal a dying woman. The only thing I can give life to is plants. So
why is she absorbing my power like a tree in the desert, thirsty
with starvation?

My gaze shifts to the beast.

Does he feel it?

Does he know what it means?

But when my eyes land upon him, he is not a
man anymore. The body beneath the cloak is rippling, expanding,
growing higher and larger. The pale color of his hands is darkening
as his nails elongate and fur pushes through translucent skin. His
fingers change shape. His body bends over, landing on all fours
against the floor. And suddenly, in the blink of an eye, the cloak
covering him disappears and a snarling black bear stands before me,
revealing sharp canines. He roars, rearing up on hind legs and
slashing jagged claws toward my face.

I scream.

A high-pitched, terrified sound.

The horror is enough of a distraction that I
forget about the woman and the magic and the questions I was about
to ask. I forget my vow not to hide anymore. I forget my promise to
be brave. I forget everything.

All I know is the door is open, and in the
time it takes for the beast to release another bloodcurdling roar,
I'm already sprinting through it.

I'm blinded by fear as I race through the castle
halls. All I can think is, go! Get away! Run! Quickly!

So I do.

Across the halls. Down the staircase.
Through the front door.

I'm outside before I even realize it, racing
down the front steps of the castle and diving into the main stretch
of the town. I've gazed at these streets from above for the past
few days, so I know if I follow this road it will lead me to a
gate, it will lead me away. And that's where I have to go. Away.
Home. To another city. Anywhere but here in this castle with that
monster.

My eyes stay straight ahead. I don't allow
them to focus on the wolves and bears watching me as I dash by. The
animals become little more than dark shadows in my peripheral. My
vision tunnels on the open iron gate just visible at the end of the
street. And once I'm through it, my world is washed in white. Snow
covers every inch of the land. I pass by icy trees as my feet sink
deeper with each step. My breath grows short as my muscles scream
at me with exertion. But I don't stop. The mountains begin to
incline, but still I keep going.

Then I trip on a rock.

I fall, landing wrists first against the
ground. Frost stings my exposed skin and a deep freeze sinks into
my bones when the snow wraps around me. As the adrenaline leaves my
system, the sweat on my arms brings a chill to my muscles. The
silent forest is filled with the clatter of my shivering teeth and
the puff of my breath as I blow warm air into my palms. Only then
do I realize how cold it is. How lost I am. And how low the sun has
begun to hang in the sky.

Only then do I realize my mistake.

I turn, but there is nothing but ivory
stretching out in every direction. The gently falling snow has
begun to pick up. I could follow my footsteps back toward the
castle, but I'm not sure if it would be any safer there or if I
should take my chances with the wilderness. More so, I'm almost
certain my fatigued body would give out before I made it back.

Survival instincts take over. Magic burns to
life in my chest, providing some warmth, but not enough. I focus on
the ground below me, forcing flowers to grow through the frozen
soil, willing them to lift higher and spread wider until the space
beneath my feet is cleared of snow and replaced with a small patch
of color. Still shivering, I sit and wrap the cloak tightly around
me. It’s warm, but not warm enough to keep the wintry breeze out.
So I concentrate on something that might. Bushes spring to life,
surrounding me like a wall against the chill. I twist and turn the
branches until they meet overhead, blocking out the light but also
the wind, leaving me in shadows. Then I hug my knees to my chest,
trying to use my breath to keep my frigid body warm.

For a while, I think it might work.

Then the wind picks up.

The flurries turn to icy pellets.

Freezing water drips through the cracks in
the bushes, soaking into my clothes.

In what little light I have, I notice my
fingertips are turning a dangerously pale shade, and I've begun to
lose feeling. When I press my hand to my nose, the tip feels like
ice. Just when I'm about to shift the plants away, to admit defeat
and try to find my way back to the castle, a thunderous voice stops
me.

"Omorose!"

It’s him. He followed me.

I hug my knees closer to my chest, as if to
hide myself more.

"I don't want to hurt you!" he shouts.
"I'm." He pauses. "I'm sorry. Please, you have to come with me."
His voice is getting louder. He's coming closer. "You'll die out
here. On a night like this, you'll never survive."

I know he's telling the truth.

But I can't fight the fear churning in my
gut. It overwhelms me. And when I close my eyes, I don't see a man
calling my name. I see a monstrous bear with saliva falling from
gleaming teeth. I see my doom.

"Omorose?"

This time it is little more than a whisper.
He's right next to my hideout. I can hear him breathing. My fingers
tremble. Snow crunches as he steps in a circle around me. I'm
caught. I'm trapped.

Then I hear that little girl again.

Fight!
she whispers in the back of my
mind.
Fight back!

And I remember that I'm strong.

I'm powerful.

And I don't want to run away any longer.

My magic acts on reflex. One moment I am
cowering. And the next, the bushes around me have recoiled and
vines are ripping free of the ground, soaring toward the beast,
sharp with thorns. He leaps away, quick on his feet. The hood of
his cloak falls, but with his back turned to me, I only notice
jet-black hair before I sink deeper into the magic, too wrapped up
in the power to notice anything else. I am one with those prickly
branches lashing out at the beast. More rise from the ground,
sprouting from everywhere at once, surrounding him like a spiky
cell. They sink closer, shrinking around his form until sharp edges
press against his skin.

Have I caught the beast?

But a howl blasts through the air, loud
enough that it seems to vibrate over the mountains. As the sound
stretches, it turns into a furious roar. The black cloak ripples,
warping and changing, until the same bear from before bursts to
life. Claws slash, ripping the vines apart. Thick branches snap
like little more than twigs. In seconds, my trap is shredded
apart.

Then the bear turns toward me.

Breath smokes from his flared nostrils.
Deep, gray eyes barrel down on me, storm clouds churning, dark and
dangerous.

He takes a step forward.

I stumble back. My chest begins to hurt as
the cost of my magic slowly takes its toll. Waves of fire and ice
roll through me as my life is methodically stripped away by the
curse. But I keep the magic burning. I bite back the pain.

Vines break through snow, stretching into
the sky.

The beast wipes them away easily.

But I keep throwing them at him. It's the
only thing I can think of. My magic is supposed to be beautiful and
gentle. It's not made for battle. But he is. Everything about him
screams weapon. Blood drips from his limbs and paws as thorns carve
into his flesh. Bright red droplets stain the snow. But he
continues moving forward, unrelenting.

I know the exact moment he tires of this
game.

A low growl rumbles from deep in his chest.
He pauses for just an instant. Then he leaps across the space
between us, opening his jaws wide, as though to swallow me
whole.

Magic surges through me.

A pine tree erupts from the ground,
exploding into the world like a bomb as snow and dirt are sent
flying. In less than a second, it stretches fifty feet high, trunk
growing thicker and thicker. Time slows. I fall back on the ground,
strength depleted.

A deafening crack fills the air.

The beast slams into the tree at full force,
shattering the sturdy wood. The ground shakes when his heavy form
drops down.

Then silence.

Long, lingering silence.

I stand cautiously, peering through the
falling snow toward the unmoving body on the ground.

Is he dead?

Did I kill him?

The idea provides no comfort. Instead,
anxiety racks through me. My lips quiver and my head begins to
shake back and forth with denial. I meant to stop him. I meant to
show him I could fight back, that I was strong too. I never meant
to…to kill him. Did I?

I bite my lip as my heart skips a beat.

Am I a murderer?

"No!" I gasp.

And then I'm running across the small space,
falling on my knees beside his motionless limbs. The bear is gone.
And with the cloak pulled away, I finally see the beast for who he
really is instead of the creature my fear turned him into.

Not a monster.

Not a king.

A man.

Young, just like me.

I drop my ear to his chest, listening
desperately, sighing when I hear the gentle thump of his
heartbeat.