Chapter 60
Forty-nine years ago
Valen
I crashed through the brush, mad with desperation, one thought pounding through my head. I won’t die today.
It was a delusion, but it kept me moving—a relentless mantra, uttered in time with my breaths.
The forest shifted around me, and I moved recklessly through the night, ignoring the thorny branches that tore at my skin and clothes.
They were nothing. The beasts’ snarls echoed in the distance, splitting the night air.
How many had I killed—three? Five? It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore.
I’d made it all of two weeks on my own. At first, I’d hunted the monsters, gorging myself on their blood for strength.
I’d crossed the mountains. I’d even spotted a castle in the distance.
I’d had hope—but it had only been an illusion.
The beasts had found me as soon as I’d descended the slope into the woods, and on this side of the pass, they hunted in packs.
I made it two days before they caught me. Now, it was just the end game.
“Fucking mages,” I snarled.
I’d been so close to finding a way to overthrow them. I’d discovered the source of their power, hidden beneath the floor of an ancient, ruined church. But they’d caught me before I could act.
Only one person had known where I’d been going. My brother.
The betrayal cut deeper than the tusks of the beasts. I’d been a fool to trust him. Now my kingdom was his, and I was as good as dead.
I choked out a laugh. He’d learn the truth soon enough. We weren’t princes or kings. We were the mages’ puppets, obliged to dance their dance in public, forced to bestow upon them our gift of immortality in private.
At least the bastards would never drink my blood again.
I wondered why they’d left me alive. Insurance in case Cassius proved to be an unruly plaything, as I had? If so, the joke was on them. I’d taken more wounds than my blood could heal, and I doubted I’d be getting much farther. My time as an immortal had run out.
Still, I kept going.
Not out of fear or hope. The howls of the beasts in the distance meant nothing to me anymore.
I knew I was dead, but I refused to give in to my fate, not until the breath of life was torn from my grasp by death himself.
Every step I took was to defy the will of the mages, the gods, and especially the Fates.
The forest floor tilted beneath my feet, and I stumbled against a tree.
I braced against it, catching my breath.
Keep going, you pathetic bastard. But my body didn’t obey.
I pulled my hand away from the wound at my side, and blood spilled forth.
My flesh was no longer closing as it always had. It wouldn’t be long now.
I leaned my head back against the tree, listening to the snarls closing in. The guttural yelps and howls. But beneath the distant commotion, there was something else: the faint sound of water.
A treacherous spark of hope flared, and I licked my parched lips. Water could mean escape, a means to disguise my trail. A few more minutes to give the finger to the Fates. I seized the last of my reserves and thrust myself forward, moving toward the sound.
I broke through the trees onto the bank of a creek, glistening in the moonlight. To my right, it flowed out of the broad mouth of a cave.
My lips twisted. Perhaps there’d be a crevice where I could die in peace.
I slogged through the running water toward the entrance and peered in. The water rose from nowhere. It was a spring. There was no further passage, no exit.
One more false hope to twist into my heart.
I dropped to my knees along the muddy bank and stared into the starlit pool. A grim reflection gazed back at me. I wiped the blood from my eyes and traced my fingers over the wicked lacerations that scarred my face. The beasts had nearly blinded me.
Perhaps that would’ve been a mercy in the end.
I bent to drink.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice said.
My eyes flicked up. The reflection of a creature with horns like a great stag loomed before me—taller than any of the beasts, it wore yellow robes.
I thrust back and drew my broken blade, but all that remained before me was an old man with kindly features and a long beard.
“Who are you?” I rasped.
“A friend.” He walked forward, using his staff. “And you were about to make a grave mistake. Anyone who drinks from that spring will become one of the beasts.”
I scanned the forest. It was still. The beasts should have been on me by now.
“Water,” I ground out. “Do you have any water?”
“You need more than that,” the old man said. “What is it you truly need?”
Blood. I swallowed, my gaze drifting to his pulsing jugular. Perhaps I’d make it another day in these cursed woods.
Sensing my thoughts, the man grinned. “So short sighted, Prince Valen. Once you’ve healed, what will you do? Wander, lost forever through these woods to be mauled again? Blood isn’t what you need.”
I grew still. “How do you know my name?”
Green flames formed in his hand. “I know many things.”
Anger rippled through me. “What are you?”
He hobbled forward, supporting himself with his walking staff. “The only thing standing between you and death.”
“Then I choose death,” I growled. “I’m not afraid.”
I’d had enough of mages and their magic.
He laughed. “You’ve survived longer than any who’ve entered these woods. You deserve more than a forgettable death. So, tell me, what is it you crave?”
I gritted my teeth and sank my fingers into the mud.
He was right. Why not go out in a fucking blaze of glory, then have my bones scattered in these godsforsaken woods.
I knew not to trust him, but I couldn’t keep the truth from slipping from my throat.
“Vengeance. The strength to take back my kingdom.”
“Then you shall have it.” The old man crouched before me, his obsidian eyes darker than the night sky.
“I will make you a bargain, Prince Valen. I will give you the strength to kill the mages who’ve tormented you—but if you don’t take back your throne and slaughter those that rule your lands, then you will become one of my beasts forever. ”
A deep rumble built in my chest. “I don’t bargain with devils.”
He angled his head, and starlight twinkled in his eyes. “The devil doesn’t care what happens to you. I, however, like a man to have a sporting chance. To have hope. That’s the most important thing of all.”
When I didn’t respond, he looked to the trees. “The choice is yours, of course. You can let the beasts devour you. Or you can try to deliver your kingdom from tyranny. Who else is going to do it? Your obedient little brother? He’s better suited to being a puppet. There’s only you.”
I fisted my hands. The old man was playing me, but did it matter? If I could live another day, hell, if I could get out of these fucking woods, I could secure my vengeance and my throne.
“Fine,” I said, exhaustion and defeat winning over me. “I agree. Give me the strength to take my kingdom back.”
“Then we have a deal.”
The old man smiled, then he seized me by the hair and yanked me forward, thrusting my face into the spring. I struggled, but his grip was stronger than any immortal, and I could gain no purchase in the mud. I choked and sputtered until at last I inhaled water into my lungs.
Then, there was only pain.
A wave of flames ripped through me, searing my heart and lungs.
My body convulsed, and my bones cracked and splintered like dried wood.
My fingers twisted and curled, and my nails became talons.
Rippling waves of scales consumed my skin, and I writhed, my body swelling with power as it grew, crushing the trees that lined the banks of the spring.
The flesh along my spine split open as a great weight settled on me. A pair of wings burst forth.
All thoughts choked from my mind, and I jerked my head back to scream—but instead of sound, my breath became flames, lighting the forest on fire.
I pushed myself up on all fours, wings beating in fury, and stared down at the spring and the insignificant old man before me.
My reflection glared back, a blood-red dragon with savage teeth and twisting horns. Bitter, molten rage shook through me, and I roared in defiance, but when I turned back to where he had been, the old man was already gone.
His voice echoed in the air. “Use this gift wisely, Prince Valen. When your last scale turns black, you will be mine, forever…”
Avoiding her gaze, I leaned back against the cold stone walls of the chamber, my chest hollow.
After fifty years of keeping the truth locked away, the words had poured forth like a river fueled by the spring rains. I’d told her everything, except the old man’s parting words: When your last scale turns black, you will be mine, forever.
Only a few dozen red scales remained.
Why had I kept it back? Was it because I was a coward, pretending that if I didn’t admit the truth, I could avoid the truth for another day? Or was it because I didn’t want her to see how close I was to becoming the beast she loathed forever?
Belle drew close, searching for my eyes, and something in my chest tightened when she found them. “I’m sorry, Valen. For the curse, for losing your kingdom. For all of it.”
“Now you see the truth,” I said, forcing a smile. “I’m doomed to be a monster forever.”
Guilt tugged at her features. “I shouldn’t have called you that.”
I scoffed. “It’s what I am. What I’ll always be.”
“Don’t say that. We’ll find a way to break the curse.” She set her jaw with the stubborn defiance I’d come to know all too well.
“I doubt that very much.”
Even if she saved me, I’d lose everything. It was just another devil’s bargain. I’d be ruined, no matter what path I chose.
“We’ll find a way,” she repeated, this time with more confidence. “I know it.”
Her sentiment was oddly comforting but na?ve. What could Belle do against a creature who could turn immortals into dragons and men into beasts? Was death the only release she offered as Locke had claimed?
I looked into those lavender eyes, trying to see her anew.
All this time, I’d assumed that her magic was the key.
It was why I’d ordered Locke to train her.
But what if it wasn’t her magic that was the key?
She held so much strength hidden beneath the surface.
What if it was just her? Her fire. Her intelligence. Her relentless determination.
Did I dare bet everything I was on that? It was madness, and yet, by the damned Fates, I couldn’t help but believe in her.
“What do you know of the old man?” Belle asked doggedly. “Was he a sorcerer? A mage—like those that ruled the Bloodvale?”
“I don’t know—not truly.” I scrubbed a hand across my face and sighed. “I believe he was some type of demon. I think I saw his true form reflected in the water—tall and twisted, robed in saffron, and with horns like a stag’s antlers. The old man was just a mask he wore to put me off my guard.”
She looked up expectantly. “You’ve told Locke all this? What does he think?”
“He agrees it was a demon—or something close to it.”
She nodded, her expression thoughtful. Distant. “And after the demon left, what did you do?”
I paced the room, frustration taking control of my movements.
“When I discovered the bastard was gone, I incinerated the beasts that had been chasing me and flew to Silverthorn to destroy the mages. Unfortunately, I couldn’t cross the border.
It was like flying into a wall of fire. I tried relentlessly until the truth dawned—the mages’ spell kept out all the beasts, and I’d become one of them, just with a different form. ”
I looked back and found her gaze. It was full of so much hope. My jaw clenched. Hope would only bring us misery in the end.
Belle slowly rose. “When my sister destroyed the spell and defeated the mages…”
“It damned me. The beasts could cross back into the Bloodvale, and so could I. But my enemies were dead, and the only way to break the curse was to kill the rulers of the kingdom.”
She swallowed. “Your brother and my sister.”
I met her gaze. “Exactly.”