Chapter 46
ELLA
LICHTENSTEIN CASTLE
As I step into the prince’s arms, he has this glazed, trance-like expression that reminds me of my father since he returned. The hairs on my arms lift like a thousand tiny needles. Fear spirals in my stomach. No, it’s as if he’s under a spell.
My eyes trail to the bouquet and those familiar, sharp-edged leaves pinned to his jacket’s lapel.
The same leaves I keep finding around the house and on my clothes after talking to Marianne.
The power of the bouquet wafts over me, clenching its tentacles of pain around my head.
The headaches I’ve been having weren’t from stress or my transformation; they were from when Marianne was trying to control and manipulate me.
She’s had a spell on all of us since the moment she arrived.
Anger rolls through me. I rip the bouquet off him, tossing it aside.
“Those leaves were ruining your attire,” I explain.
He startles and steps away from me. “Who are you? You still haven’t told me your name.”
“I need to warn you.” I glance around. Everyone is watching, so I move us to the corner of the room. “Someone is trying to marry you for your position of power rather than love.”
He blinks a few times like he’s trying to focus. “Welcome to my world. This isn’t news to me.”
“The woman’s name is Marianne.” I point her out to him. “Whatever you do, don’t get near her.”
“I don’t care about any other woman except you.” He takes my hand in his. I try not to think about how slimy he was as a frog. “You still haven’t told me your name. You promised to tell me tonight.”
Do I tell him who I really am? Will he still accept me? Except if I’m to enter a marriage, I need to start with trust. No lies.
“You’re right.” I take in a deep breath. “My name is—”
A scream curdles through the air. Dark forms bound down the grand staircase, leaping over the heads of the guards and landing on the guests, sinking sharp teeth into flesh.
Their howls echo through the room. Behind them, bloodied and holding a sword in one hand and a knife in the other, is Jacob, pursuing them.
His jacket flaps behind him, and his hair is wild.
He plunges his sword into one of the beasts.
A choked cry breaks from me. There must be two dozen werewolves.
Dr. Wissen’s werewolves. Even with Jacob’s prowess as a swordfighter, there’s no way he can stop them all.
The room shatters into chaos. Rainbows of silk and tulle dresses tumble over each other as guests stampede from the room in a desperate escape.
The king and queen slip through a secret door with their guards.
Screams replace the lilting music. Tables that once boasted ice sculptures and tiered cakes crash to the floor.
I even spot Otto running for the exit, loaded with cakes.
The prince draws his sword, which I think is more ornamental than anything. I grab his arm for support, only to find him shaking like a leaf. The last time we met these beasts, it was I who protected him.
“Don’t transform!” I turn to stare into his eyes. “Stay with me. I need you to fight. You know how to use that sword, right?”
“Transform?” The prince gasps. “How did you know?”
Even now, he still doesn't recognize me? “Jacob told me.”
A chorus of howls breaks through the screams. I spin around as Dr. Wissen treads down the stairs, determination pulling on his jagged scars.
His curly hair is combed smooth. Those eyes, sharp as battlement spikes, search the ballroom until they land on me.
Backing up, I quiver under his gaze, which never wavers as he picks his way toward me, stepping over bodies strewn as if they’re cumbersome annoyances.
He’s wearing a dark velvet jacket edged with gold and shiny golden buttons that gleam along the center of his chest.
In one hand, he holds an ax, dripping with blood, and in the other, a ring. Terror rips at my chest.
“My beautiful bride,” he says, calm and confident.
“Yesterday, I waited for you at the church, and yet you did not come. Today, I searched for you at the manor, but you were nowhere to be found. To think you thought you could hide from me. Gowns and fairy dust, golden slippers and flowers cannot mask your true form.”
“What in the devil’s name does he speak of?” the prince asks.
“He thinks I’m his bride.” I clutch the prince’s arm as the Grimm brothers and guards battle against the pack of werewolves across the room. “You see, my prince, I had this dream. I visited the house of my bridegroom. A woman cooking soup warned me that a murderer lived there.”
“Did she now?” Dr. Wissen reaches for me, but Prince William swipes his sword at him. Wissen snorts and grips his ax tighter. “As if you could stand against me.”
“A place where he feeds his brides to a grove of trees,” I continue. “To create a magic so wicked, so twisted that it could only be used for evil. But perhaps it was only a dream. A nightmare that haunts me in the darkest hours of the night.”
“I know this place.” Prince William’s eyes grow wide.
“Release the woman.” Dr. Wissen glowers at the prince. “She’s betrothed to me.”
The prince and I cling to one another, but with a single slice of the ax, the doctor sends the prince’s sword clattering to the floor. The prince cowers as Dr. Wissen presses the slick, blood-smeared weapon to his throat.
The prince vanishes.
“What the—?” The doctor spins, searching for him.
Thankfully, the doctor hasn’t thought to look at the floor where the prince now squats in his bright green, slimy skin. Swiftly, I step over the frog, hiding him beneath my gown, hoping my frog prince will stay hidden beneath its folds.
The doctor snags hold of my arm, growling. “Not to worry, Prince William isn’t my concern. It’s Marianne who wants him. All that matters is you. Once we have secured the castle, you’ll marry me.”
“Why bother?” I snap, twisting my arm to get free. “Just kill me and get it over with.”
“Because the magic is always more powerful when you kill your loved ones. I know what you are. The magic runs strong in your family. Your blood will make me very powerful. The witch thinks after tonight, she’ll be more powerful than me, but she hasn’t figured out your true nature as I have.”
I freeze. He’s right. My family is cursed with magic. It runs in our blood, fills our bones. Except maybe I was wrong. Maybe it’s not a curse after all.
“Let. Her. Go,” Jacob growls, power coiling around him as he presses his blade to Wissen’s throat. Each syllable carries the promise of a threat.
Wissen stiffens. I use the distraction to pick up the prince and pocket his slippery form.
Wissen whirls, his ax clashing against Jacob’s sword with a clang and sparks.
Steel flashes as they drive strike after strike at each other.
Wissen’s ax slices across Jacob’s side, and a cry rips from my throat.
Jacob staggers, blood darkening his shirt, but he doesn’t waver.
“Get out of here,” he tells me. Then, with speed impossibly fast for being wounded, he cuts left, missing the ax, only to drive his sword deep into Wissen’s leg.
“Someone help us!” I scream, scanning the area.
A few soldiers are fighting off the werewolves, but most lie motionless on the floor.
In the corner, I spot Wilhelm using his own weapon—the pen—writing frantically in his book, probably trying to write the doctor’s story so he could be vanquished. Smart.
I dart across the room to the banquet table and seize a carving knife just as a werewolf dives through the air, teeth gnashing in hunger for a bite of me.
I thrust the knife at it. Sharp, prickly fur skims along its body as the creature curves away from my blade.
My hand trembles, and I send up a prayer of thanks that I’m still alive.
Picking up my skirts, I race back toward the fight where the two dart in and out, circling each other.
But when I leap over a body, my golden slippers fail me. My foot slips, sending me skidding uncontrollably across the slick marble floor. I land in a heap, skirts snarling around me. Determination yanks me to my feet, and I advance closer to where Jacob and Wissen are battling it out.
“I told you to run, Ella!” Jacob commands.
Ignoring his order, I sneak behind Wissen and slice my blade across the doctor’s calf above his boot. He howls in pain, and his knee buckles. He whirls around, shoving a hand against my shoulder. I’m thrown backward, slamming into the wall.
Someone starts clapping. Frantically, I untangle myself from my layers of material. Jacob presses his blade to Wissen’s throat, standing over him with fire in his eyes, while Marianne lounges on the king’s throne.
“Such entertainment,” she says. “See? I told you, Wissen, she’s the perfect wife for you. But it appears as if the Grimm will kill you for me. Thank you for that, Jacob.”
His eyes darken, but he doesn’t make the killing blow.
“Marianne,” I say, snapping the last of the pieces together. “It was you in the carriage at the doctor’s house. It was you who arranged my marriage to that monster. You’ve been working with him all along.”
“Who do you think taught him the art of tree and blood magic?” She chuckles, deep and throaty, and lifts her mirror to check her hair.
“Oh, Cinderella, it’s endearing to see how innocent and gullible you are.
I’m deeply grateful for your kindness. After all, it was your lentil magic and allowance to control your household that made my climb to the throne so simple. ”
“Then why did you try to destroy my life?”
“Because I’ve also learned that to survive, you have to be selfish. Sacrifice, love, and loyalty will only get you killed or heartbroken. Likely both. You believe in all those things, don’t you?”
I swallow, clenching my fists. “What’s life without them?”