Read Online Bastien by Alianne Donnelly - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alianne Donnelly
Ads: Link
his misery—the portrait. Ripping that smug face off the canvas brings him little satisfaction.
He collapses to the floor, breathing so hard he is growling without meaning to, and sees something red beneath a fall of tattered bedding. It stirs another kind of memory. He pads over to it and with a single claw draws out a card. It is a rose, with the word Strength written above it.
“Well, my boy. It would seem I was right.”
The Beast turns his head toward the voice. He didn’t hear the man enter, yet there he is.
Louis Lafarge, his once oldest friend. His eyes are wide as he beholds what the Beast has become, but he does not fear. The Beast slides the Strength card back out of sight. “Have you come to gloat?”
“I don’t think that’s necessary, do you?”
The Beast growls.
“Come on, then, let’s see what we can do to make you more presentable.”
The bathing room is attached to these chambers, just off the anteroom. There are mirrors in there so large the Beast can see the whole of himself. “I am a monster,” he says.
His bulk is easily twice as big as any man. His jaws could crush a skull with ease. He has a short snout, but massive fangs. A lion’s mane, but the torso of an animal used to throwing its weight around. His front paws have an almost opposable thumb—he can grasp things, but with difficulty—and his claws don’t retract. His hind legs and paws are just wide enough that he can stand on twos, but his sheer size makes that the least favorable position. There is a tail, too. Not short, nor long, somewhere between a panther and a fox. The wicked Faery has turned him into a mismatched puzzle of animal parts covered in golden fur, with just enough humanity to make him the stuff of nightmares.
“Yes, you are,” Louis says. “Some might say you always were.”
The Beast drops his gaze.
“Will you tell me what’s happened? Do you even remember? Jacques seems to think your memory was affected by the spell.”
“I remember,” the Beast says. But he doesn’t tell. Caution keeps him silent; he doesn’t want Louis to know about the rose.
“Very well, then.” Louis calls for servants to bring hot water and a tailor to clothe the Beast.
He remains in the room while they work, an unspoken assurance that the overlarge monster is harmless. They still fear him. They can see what he did to his own chambers.
Jacques is there, too. He tells Louis about the spell, that all of the castle and its inhabitants are affected by it. He says several servants have tried to leave already but were somehow...
prevented from crossing the gates.
“But the boy got through,” Louis says.
“It would appear so,” Jacques replies.
“The boy returned,” the Beast says. “The others would not have.”
“Could it really be that simple?” Jacques asks.
“Despicably simple, if it’s true. A clever little spell,” Louis says. “You can leave so long as you intend to return. If not, you are bound to the castle grounds. A lovely gilded chain she put on the lot of you.”
“What if one leaves with the intention of returning and somewhere along the way changes his mind?” Jacques muses.
Louis shrugs. “I would imagine in such a case the curse would somehow compel him to come back.” He chuckles. “The cruelty of it is... almost fitting.”
The Beast hangs his head. He can’t look at them anymore. Because of his mistakes, and everything else he did with calculated intent, everyone in this castle must suffer with him.
“Except it’s not, is it?” Louis says, watching him closely. “Bastien, tell me about the last woman you fucked.”
The Beast snarls at him. “What your tongue!”
Louis’ eyes grow wide again. “Bastien would have told me. He would have boasted and described every last detail.” He exhales a breath of stunned wonder. “Sweet God above, it’s not you at all.”
Chapter Fourteen
The servants decide the only way to break the curse is to kill the Beast. It only
He collapses to the floor, breathing so hard he is growling without meaning to, and sees something red beneath a fall of tattered bedding. It stirs another kind of memory. He pads over to it and with a single claw draws out a card. It is a rose, with the word Strength written above it.
“Well, my boy. It would seem I was right.”
The Beast turns his head toward the voice. He didn’t hear the man enter, yet there he is.
Louis Lafarge, his once oldest friend. His eyes are wide as he beholds what the Beast has become, but he does not fear. The Beast slides the Strength card back out of sight. “Have you come to gloat?”
“I don’t think that’s necessary, do you?”
The Beast growls.
“Come on, then, let’s see what we can do to make you more presentable.”
The bathing room is attached to these chambers, just off the anteroom. There are mirrors in there so large the Beast can see the whole of himself. “I am a monster,” he says.
His bulk is easily twice as big as any man. His jaws could crush a skull with ease. He has a short snout, but massive fangs. A lion’s mane, but the torso of an animal used to throwing its weight around. His front paws have an almost opposable thumb—he can grasp things, but with difficulty—and his claws don’t retract. His hind legs and paws are just wide enough that he can stand on twos, but his sheer size makes that the least favorable position. There is a tail, too. Not short, nor long, somewhere between a panther and a fox. The wicked Faery has turned him into a mismatched puzzle of animal parts covered in golden fur, with just enough humanity to make him the stuff of nightmares.
“Yes, you are,” Louis says. “Some might say you always were.”
The Beast drops his gaze.
“Will you tell me what’s happened? Do you even remember? Jacques seems to think your memory was affected by the spell.”
“I remember,” the Beast says. But he doesn’t tell. Caution keeps him silent; he doesn’t want Louis to know about the rose.
“Very well, then.” Louis calls for servants to bring hot water and a tailor to clothe the Beast.
He remains in the room while they work, an unspoken assurance that the overlarge monster is harmless. They still fear him. They can see what he did to his own chambers.
Jacques is there, too. He tells Louis about the spell, that all of the castle and its inhabitants are affected by it. He says several servants have tried to leave already but were somehow...
prevented from crossing the gates.
“But the boy got through,” Louis says.
“It would appear so,” Jacques replies.
“The boy returned,” the Beast says. “The others would not have.”
“Could it really be that simple?” Jacques asks.
“Despicably simple, if it’s true. A clever little spell,” Louis says. “You can leave so long as you intend to return. If not, you are bound to the castle grounds. A lovely gilded chain she put on the lot of you.”
“What if one leaves with the intention of returning and somewhere along the way changes his mind?” Jacques muses.
Louis shrugs. “I would imagine in such a case the curse would somehow compel him to come back.” He chuckles. “The cruelty of it is... almost fitting.”
The Beast hangs his head. He can’t look at them anymore. Because of his mistakes, and everything else he did with calculated intent, everyone in this castle must suffer with him.
“Except it’s not, is it?” Louis says, watching him closely. “Bastien, tell me about the last woman you fucked.”
The Beast snarls at him. “What your tongue!”
Louis’ eyes grow wide again. “Bastien would have told me. He would have boasted and described every last detail.” He exhales a breath of stunned wonder. “Sweet God above, it’s not you at all.”
Chapter Fourteen
The servants decide the only way to break the curse is to kill the Beast. It only
Similar Books
