I nodded, then closed my eyes, feeling the forest’s renewed vitality surrounding us. The claiming mark throbbed with a pleasant heat, connecting me to all four of my mates. Through it, I could almost hear the earth singing beneath our feet, celebrating its freedom from darkness.
“I can get us there,” I said with a certainty I’d never felt before. “All of us.”
Bastien snorted, the sound so reminiscent of his beast form that I couldn’t help but smile. “You’re going to teleport an entire kingdom’s worth of people? Just like that?”
I met his skeptical gaze. “Yes.”
“She can do it,” Alain said, stepping to my side. His hand found mine, fingers intertwining as naturally as breathing. “I’ve seen what her magic can accomplish.”
Laurent watched me with those calculating eyes that missed nothing. “The forest will help her,” he concluded. “It recognizes its new guardian.”
The words sent a thrill through me. Guardian. Not a burden to be endured or a prize to be possessed, but a protector withpurpose and power. The antler tip in my hand pulsed once, as if confirming Laurent’s assessment.
“Everyone join hands,” I instructed, raising my voice so it carried across the gathering. “Form circles, make sure everyone is touching someone else. The magic needs a path to follow.”
To their credit, no one questioned me. Perhaps they had seen too many impossibilities today to doubt another. The people of the Enchanted Realm clasped hands with the soldiers of Durand. Royal joined with common. Human with creatures of myth.
My four mates formed a tight circle around me, creating a barrier of protection even as they served as conduits for what I was about to attempt. I felt their strength flow into me through the claiming bond, their confidence bolstering my own.
I closed my eyes again and reached deep into the earth with my magic. Not demanding, not commanding, but requesting. The response was immediate and joyous. Roots and soil and stone all eager to help, to repay the one who had freed them from corruption.
“Take us home,” I whispered, and the world dissolved around us.
It felt like being unmade and remade in the space between heartbeats. Like falling through clouds made of pure sensation. The ground disappeared beneath our feet, only to reform an instant later. When I opened my eyes, we stood on the grounds of what had once beenBeast’scastle, but it was transformed beyond recognition.
Gone were the twisted iron gates, the withered gardens, the crumbling stones that had seemed to weep with despair. In their place stood a castle bathed in sunlight so bright it hurt to look at directly. The stones gleamed like new-polished silver, the windows sparkled with stained glass that caught the light and threw rainbows across the courtyard. The gates stood proudlyopen, intricate metalwork forming patterns of leaves and roses with stars that seemed almost alive in their complexity.
The gardens…oh, the gardens. Where before had been thorns and decay, now grew flowers in such abundance it seemed impossible they could have sprouted in the short time since the curse broke. Roses in every color imaginable, climbed trellises and walls, their scent heavy and sweet in the air.
Gasps of wonder rose from those around me as they took in the transformation. The royals of the Enchanted Realm stared at their restored home with tears streaming unashamedly down their faces.
“It’s as I remember it,” the Queen whispered, clutching her husband’s arm. “Henri, it’s exactly as it was before...”
King Henri nodded wordlessly, too overcome for speech.
“It’s beautiful,” Alain said beside me, his eyes wide with wonder. “I had no idea...”
“None of you did,” I replied softly. “The curse erased even the memory of this place from your minds.”
Something caught my eye then. Movement near the central rose garden, where the largest and most vibrant blooms created a natural bower. A man lay there, partially obscured by nodding flower heads, with thorny vines slowly retreating from his body.
My heart stopped, then raced so fast I felt dizzy.
“Papa?” The word escaped me as a whisper, then a shout. “PAPA!”
I broke away from my mates, sprinting across the perfect lawn toward the rose bower. Behind me, I heard confused exclamations, footsteps hurrying to follow, but I couldn’t slow down. Not when I recognized that round form, that white hair and mustache. Not when I saw his chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of breath.
The roses parted for me as I approached, their thorns retracting as if they recognized my presence. I fell to my kneesbeside the still form of my father, Arnaud Dubois, tears blurring my vision so badly I had to wipe them away to see him clearly.
He looked exactly as he had the day the village had sent him as the sacrifice to the Forbidden Forest. His clothes were torn where thorns had pierced his flesh, but as I watched, the wounds closed themselves, leaving unblemished skin behind. The roses were healing him, giving back the life force they had taken to sustain themselves.
“Papa,” I sobbed, gathering his limp hand in mine. It was warm. Alive. “Papa, please wake up.”
His eyelids fluttered, then opened. Those dark brown eyes were so different from my amber ones, but they focused slowly on my face, confusion giving way to recognition.
“Isabeau?” His voice was rough from disuse, but it was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard. “My girl? Is it really you?”
I couldn’t speak through my tears, could only nod frantically as I pressed his hand to my cheek.
