The beast turned, carrying me back toward the castle with steady, purposeful strides. It moved differently now, upright on two legs, its gait almost human despite its bestial form. I studied its face in the moonlight, noting details I’d missed before. The intelligence in its eyes, the almost regal set of its features despite their animal nature.
Could it be?The thought formed slowly, cautiously, in the back of my mind.Could this creature have once been human?
Cursed, perhaps, like something from one of Papa’s stories? It certainly behaved with more awareness than any animal I’d encountered. The way it had responded to my needs during our coupling, the careful control of its strength, the almost tender way it carried me now. None of these were traits I would associate with a mindless beast.
As we approached the castle gates, the ones I’d fled through mere hours ago, I found myself not fighting to escape but curious about what lay ahead. The beast had claimed me in the most primitive way possible, yet I felt no fear of it now.Only questions. Questions about what it was, about what I was becoming, about the strange power that had saved me from drowning and the even stranger connection I felt to this creature whose seed even now rested within my womb.
The gate swung open at our approach, as if welcoming us home.Home. The word felt foreign and yet somehow right. Whatever awaited me inside those walls, I knew my life had changed irrevocably. I was no longer simply Isabeau Dubois, the inventor’s daughter. I was something else now. Something marked, claimed, transformed.
And as the beast carried me across the threshold of the ancient castle, I couldn’t help but wonder if this wasn’t the end of my story, but rather its true beginning.
eleven
Isabeau
The beast’s fur felt like heaven against my naked skin. Soft and warm in a way I’d never experienced before, even in the coldest winters when Papa would pile every blanket we owned onto my bed.
Each strand of his pelt cushioned my raw flesh, soothing the scratches and bruises from my flight through the forest, from the iron cage that had nearly been my coffin, from Gaspard’s cruel hands. My body still throbbed from the beast’s claiming, apleasant ache unlike anything Gaspard’s fumbling assaults had left behind.
I should have been terrified, should have been fighting to escape the massive creature that carried me like a bride across the threshold of this abandoned castle. Instead, I found myself nestling closer to his broad chest, seeking more of that impossible warmth as we entered the darkness beyond.
His heartbeat thundered against my ear, strong and steady. Not racing with bloodlust or violence, but calm, almost gentle. The contrast between his fearsome appearance and the careful way he held me sent my mind spinning with questions I wasn’t ready to answer.
The castle swallowed us into its darkness, the stone walls exhaling a breath of stale air that carried centuries of dust and secrets. What little moonlight penetrated through broken windows and collapsed sections of roof created silver pools on the marble floor, illuminating our path like stepping stones across a midnight lake. The beast moved with surprising grace, navigating the debris-strewn entrance hall as if he’d walked it a thousand times before.
I blinked, willing my eyes to adjust faster to the gloom. Gradually, shapes emerged from shadow showing overturned furniture, shattered vases, and tapestries hanging in tatters from walls that might once have been grand. Something terrible had happened here. Something violent enough to leave scars on stone and wood that even time hadn’t erased.
“What happened to this place?” I whispered, not expecting an answer from the creature who carried me.
The beast’s chest rumbled with a sound too complex to be a simple growl. If I didn’t know better, I might have thought it sounded like sorrow.
Moonlight suddenly flooded through a high window, illuminating a broad expanse of wall at the far end of whatmust have been the great hall. Hanging there, dominating the space despite its damaged condition, was an enormous portrait. Or what remained of one. Canvas hung in shreds, as if attacked by claws or blades with particular fury. Through the tears, fragments of faces stared back at me. A man’s stern jaw, a woman’s gentle eyes, a few children’s curious expressions.
A family. Once whole, now ripped apart, just like the portrait that preserved them.
The beast paused before it, his amber eyes fixed on the ruined image. A low sound emerged from his throat, not a growl but something more mournful. Something that might have been a sob in a human chest.
My heart hammered against my ribs as understanding bloomed. The portrait, the beast’s reaction, the strange intelligence behind those animal eyes. This wasn’t just any abandoned castle in the forbidden forest. This was his home. And those faces in the portrait…were they his family? Had he once been the stern-faced man? The curious child?
Had he once been human?
The thought should have terrified me. Instead, it awakened a strange compassion I hadn’t expected to feel after everything I’d endured. If he had been cursed, transformed into this creature of fur and fang, then he too knew what it was to be trapped. To be seen as something other than what you truly were.
Before I could form words to ask the questions swirling in my mind, the beast turned away from the portrait, carrying me toward a grand staircase that swept upward from the center of the hall. Time and neglect had taken their toll here as well. What must once have been carpeted steps were now bare stone, with remnants of fabric clinging stubbornly in corners. The balustrade was broken in places, leaving gaps like missing teeth in a once-perfect smile.
The beast climbed with steady steps, the staircase narrowing as we ascended. I noticed how the stairs had been worn down in the center, countless footsteps over countless years carving shallow depressions in the stone. How many people had climbed these stairs when the castle was whole? Servants hurrying to attend their masters? Children racing to their lessons? Lovers seeking private moments away from watchful eyes?
And now there was only us. The beast and his captive. Or was I his guest? His mate? I still didn’t understand what had happened in the forest, why my body had responded to his claiming with pleasure instead of pain, why I felt this strange connection to him despite his fearsome form.
At the top of the stairs, the beast turned right, padding down a long hallway lined with doors. Some hung askew from broken hinges. Others were missing entirely, revealing glimpses of abandoned rooms beyond. Bedchambers mostly, with four-poster beds like ghostly sentinels waiting for occupants who would never return. Moonlight streaked through windows, casting everything in silver and shadow.
The beast seemed to know exactly where he was going. He paused before a door near the end of the hall. It was intact, unlike many of its neighbors. With a nudge of his massive head, it swung open to reveal a bedchamber larger than any I’d seen.
This had been someone important. Someone wealthy and powerful, judging by the size of the room and what remained of its furnishings. A massive four-poster bed dominated the center, its frame carved from dark wood that had somehow survived whatever destruction had claimed the rest of the castle. The fabrics weren’t so fortunate. What had once been rich velvet drapes hung in tatters from the bed’s frame, their color faded to a ghostly memory of burgundy or perhaps deep blue. The blankets were in similar disrepair, torn and frayed at the edges,though they appeared cleaner than I might have expected after years of abandonment.
Had the beast maintained this room? Was this where he slept when he wasn’t prowling the forest or terrorizing the villages?
He approached the bed and set me down with surprising gentleness, my body sinking into the mattress that, despite its age, was far softer than the one I’d had at home. It felt strange to be naked on these unfamiliar sheets, exposed in this strange place with this even stranger creature watching me. Yet I felt no immediate urge to cover myself. The beast had already seen every part of me, had claimed me in the most primal way possible. What modesty remained after that?
