Chapter 23 - Isabeau #2
Without thinking, I rushed forward and swung my branch with all my strength.
It connected with the wolf’s side mid-jump, throwing off its trajectory enough that it missed Beast’s back, landing awkwardly to the side.
Beast whirled at the sound, finishing what I’d started with a swipe of his claws that left the wolf howling in pain.
“Learn your lesson,” I gasped, already backing up as another wolf advanced on me. “No one touches him.”
The wolf lunged, faster than I could swing.
I felt its claws rake across my forearm, sharp and hot, drawing blood that immediately soaked through my sleeve.
Pain flared, bright and immediate, but I didn’t drop the branch.
Instead, I swung again, connecting solidly with its skull.
The impact reverberated up my arms, but the wolf dropped, momentarily stunned.
“Come on!” I shouted, swinging at another that ventured too close. “Try again! I dare thee!”
Blood trickled down my arm, warm and sticky against my skin. The cut stung, but it wasn’t deep enough to weaken me. If anything, the pain sharpened my focus, narrowed my world to this moment, this fight.
Beast roared again, drawing my attention.
He’d pinned the alpha to the ground, massive jaws closing around its throat.
The wolf thrashed and struggled, but Beast held firm until it went limp beneath him.
The remaining wolves, seeing their leader fallen, began to retreat, slinking back toward the corrupted forest with tails tucked low.
I kept my branch raised until the last one disappeared from sight, then dropped it with hands that had begun to shake now that the immediate danger had passed. Beast limped toward me, his fur matted with blood in several places. A deep gash ran along his side, and one of his ears was torn.
“Thou art hurt,” I whispered, reaching for him with trembling fingers. I rarely used proper pronouns with him because for the longest time I didn’t know if he was a man. But now, this man deserved every level of respect from me.
As I touched his blood-soaked fur, something crystallized inside me.
A realization so obvious I was stunned I hadn’t acknowledged it sooner.
The thought of losing him, of seeing him torn apart by those wolves, had been unbearable.
Not because he was my protector or because I needed him to survive in this cursed place, but because somewhere along the way, despite everything, I had fallen in love with him.
I loved Beast. The creature who had claimed me in the night. The being who brought me food and showed me wonders and treated me with more care than any human man ever had. The cursed royal trapped in a form not his own. I loved him, and the certainty of it struck me like physical pain.
“We need to get inside,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “Lean on me if thou must. I can support thee.”
Beast grunted but didn’t resist as I wrapped my arm around his massive form, taking some of his weight as we made our slow way back to the castle.
The wound on his side looked worse up close, deep enough that I worried about how much blood he was losing.
His steps grew more labored as we approached the doors, his breathing heavier.
“Just a little farther,” I encouraged, pushing open the castle door with my shoulder. “The sitting room. The fire will keep thee warm while I fetch what we need.”
I guided him to the hearth, where embers still glowed from the morning’s fire. I added logs quickly, stoking the flames until they leapt high enough to cast warm light across the room. Beast collapsed onto the rug with a whimper that tore at my heart.
“Don’t move,” I ordered, already heading for the door. “I’ll be right back.”
I flew down the corridor toward the kitchen, gathering supplies with frantic haste. Clean rags. A basin of water. Soap I’d made days earlier. And from a cabinet I’d discovered while exploring, a dusty bottle of what smelled like strong spirits, perfect for cleaning wounds.
When I returned, Beast had dragged himself closer to the fire, his massive head resting on his paws, eyes half-closed with pain. The sight of him wounded because of me made my chest ache with guilt and something deeper, more possessive. No one would hurt him again. Not while I drew breath.
“This will sting,” I warned, kneeling beside him. I dampened a cloth and began to clean the gash on his side, revealing how deep the wolf’s claws had cut.
Beast jerked away with a snarl when I applied the spirits to the wound, his teeth bared in warning, eyes suddenly wild with pain.
I didn’t flinch. Didn’t back down.
“Stop thy tantrum,” I said firmly, meeting his glare with one of my own. “I cannot help thee if thou fights me. Now lie still and let me tend thy wounds properly.”
He growled again, softer this time, but settled back down. I continued cleaning the wound, careful but thorough, making sure no dirt or debris remained that might cause infection. Once I was satisfied, I bound it with clean rags, wrapping them firmly around his middle.
“There,” I said, sitting back on my heels to examine my work. “That should hold until it starts to heal. Thou art lucky they didn’t get thy throat.”
His eyes never left my face as I worked, watching me with an intensity that made my skin warm despite the circumstances. When I moved to clean the smaller cuts on his legs and face, he stayed perfectly still, only the occasional flinch betraying his discomfort.
“Thank you,” I whispered when I’d finished, my voice catching in my throat. “For saving me. Again. I was so afraid...” I swallowed hard, fighting back unexpected tears. “I was afraid I would lose thee. And I cannot lose thee, Beast. Not thee too. Not after everyone else.”
The admission cost me something to voice aloud, some final barrier of pride or self-protection. But it was worth it to see the change in his early evening eyes. The softening, the understanding, the response to my vulnerability with his own.
Beast lifted his massive head and leaned forward, pressing his forehead against mine in a gesture so tender it made my breath catch. We stayed like that for a long moment, sharing breath and warmth, communicating without words what neither of us could fully express.
“I know,” I whispered, reaching up to stroke the fur between his ears. “I know.”
And I did know. Whatever happened next—whether Gaspard found us, whether we broke the curse, whether I ever understood my connection to this place—we would face it together. Beast and I, bound by something stronger than fear or necessity or even the primal claiming that had first joined us.
As the fire crackled beside us and night settled fully over the cursed forest, I let myself acknowledge what my heart had already decided. I loved him. And I would fight wolves, witches, and my own past to keep him safe.