Still, the night air was cool against my skin, raising gooseflesh along my arms and legs. The beast seemed to notice my discomfort. He turned abruptly, dropping to all fours with a fluid motion that reminded me of his animal nature despite the human intelligence behind his eyes. He padded across the room to a tall armoire that stood against the far wall, its doors closed against the dust and decay that had claimed so much of the castle.
As he did so, I untied the strips of damp fabric from my waist that held my father’s knife. My fingertips traced the pruned ridges of my skin, wrinkled like ancient parchment from hours submerged in the river’s icy embrace before running with it clinging to me. The sodden fabric peeled away with a wet sound, releasing me from its clinging prison. Freedom came with a price. My flesh, pallid and death-blue beneath the moonlight, erupted in violent shivers as the castle’s glacial air kissed every droplet clinging to my body. Each breath of wind felt like winter’s teeth against my exposed skin, turning the water’s remnants into pinpricks of frost that traced my spine like a lover’s cruel caress.
I tucked the knife under my pillow, leaving it for later, just in case. Then I pushed the squelching fabric to the floor so the bed wouldn’t ruin. My gaze found the back of the beast with his head turned for his eyes to watch me closely.
I pointed to the pillow with a hard swallow. “Protection.”
He dipped his chin and turned his attention to the cabinetry ahead. Rising up on his hind legs, the beast attempted to open the armoire door with one massive paw. His claws scraped against the wood, leaving fresh marks beside older scratches that suggested this wasn’t his first attempt. The handle eluded his grasp, delicate and designed for human fingers, not beastly paws.
A frustrated growl rumbled from his chest as he tried again, this time with both paws. Still, the handle slipped from his grip, the door remaining stubbornly closed.
After a third failed attempt, he turned back to me, his amber eyes fixing on mine with unmistakable intention. With a deliberate motion, he nodded toward the armoire, then back at me.
He wanted me to open it.
I tried to stand, my legs wobbling beneath me as every muscle in my body protested the movement. After everything—Gaspard’s assault, the near-drowning, fleeing through the forest, the beast’s claiming—it was a miracle I could move at all. My first attempt ended with me sinking back onto the bed, my strength failing me when I needed it most.
The beast made a sound that might have been concern, crossing the room in three long strides to reach me. Instead of forcing me up or growing impatient, he lowered himself beside the bed, offering his broad back as support.
“You want to help me?” I asked, unsure if he could understand human speech despite his obvious intelligence.
The answering rumble from his chest felt like affirmation. Cautiously, I placed my hand on his back, fingers sinking into that impossibly soft fur. Using him as a crutch, I managed to stand on trembling legs. The beast rose slowly, matching his pace to mine as I leaned heavily against his side.
Together, we made our way across the room, an odd pair, being the naked girl and the monster, moving as one toward the armoire. His size struck me anew as we walked side by side. Even on all fours, his back stood level with my breasts, his massive shoulders broader than any man’s I’d ever seen. If he rose to his full height, he must have been nearly eight feet tall, dwarfing even Gaspard’s imposing frame.
Yet despite his size, despite his obvious strength, his movements remained carefully measured, accommodating my weakened state with a patience that seemed almost tender. This was not the mindless beast that had supposedly terrorized our village, that had been blamed for the disappearance of countless sacrifices. This was something or someone else entirely.
When we reached the armoire, the beast stopped, looking up at me expectantly. I released my grip on his fur, steadying myself against the wall as I reached for the handle he’d been unable to grasp. It turned easily under my human fingers, the door swinging open with a creaking protest of ancient hinges.
The contents took my breath away. Dresses. Dozens of them, hanging in neat rows despite the passage of time. Some showed signs of age. Moth holes near the hems, colors faded from what must once have been vibrant jewel tones, but most remained in remarkably good condition, protected from the worst ravages of time by the solid wood of the armoire.
There were gowns for every occasion. Morning dresses in light, airy fabrics. Afternoon tea gowns with modest necklines. Evening gowns dripping with beadwork that caught the moonlight and sparkled like fallen stars. And at the far end, ballgowns fit for a princess, their full skirts taking up twice the space of their plainer sisters.
A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I ran my fingers over the nearest gown, a simple day dress in faded green that looked as if it might actually fit my frame. I hadn’t given much thought to my nakedness while running for my life or being carried by the beast, but now, faced with the prospect of actual clothing, I felt an overwhelming gratitude.
“Thank you,” I whispered to the beast, unsure if he could understand but feeling the need to acknowledge his consideration nonetheless.
He dipped his head in what might have been a nod, then suddenly stiffened, his ears pricking forward and his entire body going rigid with attention. His head swiveled toward the door, nostrils flaring as he scented the air.
I strained my ears, trying to hear whatever had caught his attention. But there was nothing. Only the whisper of wind through broken windows and the settling of ancient timbers.
Yet the beast clearly heard something I could not. His entire demeanor changed in an instant, the almost human intelligence in his eyes receding as animal instinct took over. With a low growl that raised the hair on the back of my neck, he lunged toward the door, abandoning me without a backward glance.
“Wait!” I called, stumbling forward a step before my weakened legs protested. “Where are you—”
But he was already gone, his massive form disappearing down the dark hallway with surprising speed. The pounding of his paws on stone faded quickly, leaving me alone in the strange bedchamber, naked and bewildered, with only the silent dresses for company.
I sank to the floor beside the open armoire, my back against the wall, suddenly aware of how completely exhausted I truly was. The beast’s fur had kept me warm, but now, without hisheat, the chill of the night air raised goosebumps across my naked skin.
Whatever had called him away, whatever primal instinct had overwhelmed his human intelligence, I could only hope it wasn’t a threat. Because as strange as it seemed, the beast had become my only ally in this new, terrifying reality. My protector, my captor, and maybe my mate—I didn’t know which he truly was. Perhaps all three.
What I did know was that I needed a bath, clothes, warmth, and rest if I was to survive another day. With trembling hands, I reached for the green dress and stood up, determined to at least solve one of those problems before exhaustion claimed me completely.
twelve
Isabeau
The green dress lay forgotten on the floor as my eyes caught sight of the hearth nestled against the far wall. A fireplace. Heat.
