Beauty and the Beast (Demon Tales 1) (15 page)

“Save him! NOW!” she roared, feeling the
muscles in her neck go tight as bowstrings. “I will do anything,
please.”

Her mother smiled—the cat that got the
cream—and nodded slowly. “Very well, daughter. I’ll save him. But
only if you marry the prince tomorrow.”

Cally gritted her teeth as bile rose in her
throat. Brigg moaned softly, and she stroked across his face
soothingly. “You will heal him fully?” Cally asked aware that her
mother liked to play games. “And you will free him?”

Her mother sighed loudly, but nodded. “Yes,
I’ll heal him fully and let him go free—I might even lift that
curse—but only if you marry the prince tomorrow.”

Cally nodded before she could form the words
in her mouth. Relief felt like a sucker-punch to her gut. “Yes,
I’ll do as you say—just heal him!” Cally knew what her mother had
done, she knew she had just signed her life away, but Brigg was
worth it. The first person to ever stand up for her, to ever come
to her rescue, and Cally would do anything for him—even give up her
life for his. She counted It a fair trade.

“Very well, then.” Her mother stepped
forward and tugged roughly at Cally’s arm. “You shouldn’t hold him
while I heal him, he might thrash and hurt you. I will not have you
bruised on your wedding day.”

Cally gaped at her mother’s words, only too
clearly remembering the two open wounds on her head. She shook her
head and held fast to Brigg. “Heal him. Now.” She levelled a cold
stare at her mother. “Or I swear, I will find a way to slit your
throat. Now, or in ten years—I will see it done.” Cally felt rage
like none she’d ever known before. It swirled in her gut and pumped
through her veins.

The queen stepped forward and pressed her
hands to Brigg’s head. She openly cringed when her fingers
connected with his fur. Cally’s chest squeezed and she glared at
her mother. Hate flowed in her veins, all directed at that woman.
Cally shuddered physically, torn between the yearning to tear her
mother’s head from her shoulders and holding the one person who
held her heart.

White light blasted from her mother’s bony
hands, snatching Cally’s attention. Power surged in the air and
straightened Cally’s hair with crackling static electricity. Cally
drew in a tight breath as all the air in the room heated. It
suddenly felt as if she were in a steam-bath. Her skin prickled and
her insides shook. Brigg’s chest bowed within her grip and she
watched with mouth-gaping awe as his fur began to fade.

Pale skin appeared where fur once covered
his face. Human fingers stretched out from his hands. Brigg
grunted, gasped and moaned under the force of the magic. He twisted
and rolled as if fighting an unseen foe. Cally loosened her grip
and sat back. She watched with rising shock as Brigg—the hairy
demon—turned into the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

Dark, shiny hair covered his head, but it
stopped at a natural hairline. Two dark horns peeked out from the
top of his head, glossy and beautiful. A face strikingly masculine
and handsome came into view as his fur faded away. White light
burned throughout the room, and Cally gaped, awed by the power
present. The room trembled, even large pieces of furniture seemed
to shudder as if an earthquake had shaken the floor. Cally knew
that her mother wielded strong magic, she had seen little displays
during her mother’s fits of rage—but nothing had prepared her for
the spectacle she was seeing now.

Her mother let go, lifted a shaky hand and
pinned Cally with a dark expression. “I will have no more insolence
from you. You will be wed on the morrow—and out of my hair.” The
queen straightened her spine, flicked away a stray hair and plodded
to Cally’s bedroom door. “Guards!” she shouted, “Remove him at
once!”

The door swung open, but Cally didn’t
notice.

She stared down to the man lying on her
legs, and didn’t recognize him at all. She scanned the man’s nose,
and lowered her gaze to his beautiful, plump lips, trying to
remember what Brigg had looked like under his fur. She just didn’t
know. Had her mother somehow swapped Brigg with another? Was her
magic that great?

Cally lifted her hand and ran her finger
tips over his cheek bone, the sharp angle so beautiful, so strong.
Her fingers sifted through the dark tresses on his head and a
familiar twinge tightened inside. She brushed over the twin horns,
black and shiny as polished stone. He shuddered in her arms.

“Brigg?” she whispered, aware that three
guards were standing ready to take him away, their restless feet
sliding across the stone floor. She swallowed the hard knot of fear
that had lodged in her throat when she thought Brigg was dying.
This person on her lap wasn’t bleeding. She ran her hands down his
side and found there to be no new blood, only the wet still on his
clothes. “Brigg?” she said, still unsure.

The guard to her left stepped forward.
“Miss, I have to take him—Queen’s orders.”

Cally looked up through bleary wet eyes and
nodded weakly, still too confused to think clearly. When she looked
down she was shocked to find a dark brown pair of eyes staring up
at her. Her breath caught in her mouth and tears filled her
vision.

Brigg.

“Cally?” he croaked, and if she hadn’t
recognized his eyes, then the deep timbre of the voice certainly
convinced her. Relief shot through her body and burned through her
mind. She sagged under the force of her emotions.

“Brigg?”

“What happened?” he asked, seemingly too
weak to move. Cally placed her hand to his cheek and smiled.

“You’re better.” A heavy tear fell from her
eye and dropped onto his cheek. Brigg frowned and tried to move his
head. Cally stroked her thumb over his lips and leaned down to
press a kiss to his mouth. Her heart burst in her chest and a
silent wail of grief filled her mind. She pulled back and looked
into his eyes once again—for probably the last time. “Thank
you.”

A frown creased Briggs face.

The guard to her left stepped forward and
tugged her away from Brigg. She twisted in his grip but was no
match for his strong fingers.

“Cally?” Brigg called, his voice still
thready and weak, he sounded half asleep and bewildered. Her chest
tightened and she cried openly as she continued to fight the guards
holding her. The two remaining guards hauled Brigg to his feet,
where he swayed like a sapling in the wind. Confusion filled his
perfect face, even as he struggled weakly. Cally wanted to hold
him, to tell him that she loved him, but the guards hastily dragged
him away. Brigg bellowed and fought, but in his weakened state he
was no match for the men holding him.

“Brigg!” Cally cried, feeling as if her
heart had just been torn from her chest. “I love you!” she called
after him, uncaring of what anyone would say. She did. She loved
him—and always would.

Cally stood with her arms out to the side as
three maids busily dressed her in the wedding gown. She moved
woodenly when asked to, and only spoke when she needed to. Her mind
was somewhere else entirely, held by the face of the man who
replaced her hairy demon. She couldn’t shake the image of his face,
so handsome, so rugged and…Brigg?

All day she had replayed the moment when
he’d opened his eyes. Her heart had swelled with love instantly,
and Cally knew she would never forget the sight of his achingly
beautiful face. If she had been attracted to Brigg before, it was
nothing compared to how she felt now. He was perfect.

“Sit, madam,” The young maid at Cally’s back
said as she motioned towards the small chair in front of the vanity
mirror. “I need to do your hair.” The girls’ soft voice cut through
Cally’s musings, and she moved with heavy limbs to the chair. The
maid began brushing her hair, and Cally watched with no interest as
her long dark hair was coiffed and twisted into an elaborate
style.

Her mind still went back to Brigg.

“How long?” Cally asked, needing to know how
much longer she would have to endure this ordeal. She knew that
once she was married Brigg would be set free, and then at least she
could know that he was safe. Her marriage was not all in vain.

She saved Brigg, and it felt right to be the
one doing the saving.

“I’m sorry, madam?”The maiden asked as she
bent closer to Cally.

Cally cleared her scratchy throat, she had
cried for so long last night, she was surprised she still even had
a voice. “How long, until the…wedding?” it hurt to even say it. Her
eyes filled with tears, and Cally swallowed hard to rid her throat
of the intense emotions.

The maid stopped brushing Cally’s hair, and
frowned. She looked around the room and bent closer to Cally again.
“Do you want me to take a message to your demon, miss?” she
whispered. “I’m on feeding duty down in the dungeon later today. I
could try, if you like.”

Hope flashed in Cally’s body, and burst in
her mind like a firework in the sky. She spun on her stool and
stared up at the young maid. “You could do that?” Cally lowered her
voice, aware that the girl now looked very nervous. She took a
second to compose herself and began again. “You would do that for
me?”
Was this a cruel joke?
Hope and excitement beat a
frantic tune in her heart as she stared up at the clearly nervous
maid.

The girl nodded, and flicked a cautious
glance to the bedroom door. “Yes, but tell me the message quick.
Madam Gretta will be back soon.”

What should she tell Brigg? So much to say…
Words and pleas flew through Cally’s mind, desperate feelings of
longing—but she squelched them and tried to think clearly. She
wanted to tell him to stay safe. She wanted to tell him just how
beautiful he was. She wanted to thank him for saving her—twice. She
wanted to tell him that she appreciated his attempted rescue, no
one had ever acted on her behalf before. But most of all, she
wanted him to know she loved him—with all her heart.

She swallowed and fought the rising
desperation. If these were the last words she ever said to Brigg,
then she would say what burned her the most. No regrets.

“Tell him… Thank you, for showing me what
love is. And for allowing me to experience life, even for a short
while.” Sorrow gripped her throat tightly and squeezed at her words
until they were too painful to speak out loud, especially when the
maid looked down at Cally with aching sympathy. The young girl’s
face shone with emotion, and Cally had to look away briefly to ward
off her own emotions. “Tell him…tell him, I love him.” Tears fell
freely from Cally’s eyes, burning a wet line down her face. She
watched them drop onto her wedding dress. Distantly she thought her
mother would be cross.

“You love him, miss?” the maid asked,
sounding affected by Cally’s words. Cally nodded and turned in the
chair. Yes, she loved him. And that was precisely why she would
marry the prince—to save her demon.

She looked up into the mirror and stared at
her reddened face. Tears had ruined her makeup making her look like
a painted corpse. She sucked in a tight breath and looked at the
maid in the mirror. “You’d better fix this mess I made. I don’t
want Gretta cross at you.”

The maid stalled for only a moment, and then
jumped back into action. Cally felt the steel resolve tighten on
her spine once more. Brigg had been selfless for her more than
once, she could do this for him. “You will pass my words along,
wont you?”

The maid looked up and their eyes met in the
mirror. “Yes, madam. I will.”

* * * *

Brigg sat with his spine pressed to the
stone wall in the dungeon. He stared at his brother and Sam, and
barely held back his rage. When he had been tossed in here last
night, he had been relieved to see them, but only for a moment when
the realization that no help would come had taken hold of his mind.
No one else knew they were in the dungeon. Sam’s men, the ones who
had come to help, were also in the dungeon somewhere, locked up—it
was a fucking joke.

For hours, Brigg had raged and yelled at the
top of his lungs, apoplectic with rage. His fists burned where he
had punched the walls and iron bars. And his heart cracked at the
knowledge that Cally was to be wed in a matter of minutes. He could
see through the tiny window that the day had come and gone, the sun
was close to setting, and he knew the wedding was at sunset.

Brigg had never felt so helpless—so
impotent. The idea Cally was so close burned in his mind and robbed
him of any other thought. His brief, yet sweet, viewing of her last
night had nearly been his undoing. She had looked tired, thin, and
her eyes had been red as if she had cried non-stop for days…as
maybe she had. His heart cracked and his veins burned with
inaction. After last night, if he had had any doubts whatsoever
about her being his true mate, now they were uttlery gone. Even
with his stab-wound in his side, Briggs body had roared to life the
moment he had scented her. The inner demon had butted against his
skin and roared in his mind.

She was his, no doubt. No magic. Cally was
his.

“I still can’t believe it.” Brigg looked up
and watched Torc marvel at his pale, hairless skin. Apparently when
the queen had lifted Briggs curse, she had lifted Torc’s too. No
one would have guessed that Torc was in a dungeon, the expression
on his face was so happy. It sickened Brigg. So fucking what if his
brother thought he looked like a model? Cally was suffering!

“Shut the fuck up, Torc,” Brigg growled,
irritated that all his brother could think about was himself. His
Cally was upstairs being prepared for a wedding that she didn’t
want, and because of his stupid haste, he was locked up and unable
to rescue her from marrying another man—a man she didn’t love.
Jealousy burned coldly inside Brigg until he had to move. He jumped
to his feet and began pacing.