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Authors: Elizabeth Darcy
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remember the taste of the raw, bloody flesh on my tongue, my stomach twisted and I growled low in my throat. This was the worst of all torments, this instinct to behave like a beast but possess a higher consciousness that made me think like a man.
Upon my return to the castle, I went immediately into my chambers and found the water that my servants had left out for me. They always knew when I hunted and they knew that when I returned the water was to be ready for me. As the feral thrill of the hunt wore off, it was imperative for me to wash away the blood of my prey lest my human revulsion overtake me.
When I had cleaned the blood from my fur, I lay upon the floor and contemplated the wisdom of continuing to hunt if the maiden were to come to me. A part of me was regretful at the thought of giving up this base pleasure, but another part of me was relieved. It would be very difficult to resist the temptation to hunt, but if the maiden were to arrive and I were to attempt to woo her, she would surely not be impressed by the knowledge of my hunts or by the evidence they left upon me.
It was a triumph for my human self that I decided I had best give up my hunts if the maiden came to the castle. I felt such a powerful sense of relief at this triumph that it left me feeble and weak. The passage of time had rendered me more and more bestial, to the point that I had nearly stopped thinking of myself as a man. It had taken the wanderer's arrival and the prospect of his daughter to restore to me the memories of what I had once been. I had worried that I had given in to my animal side, that I had relinquished my will to defeat the curse, and I felt a sense of great power--and even greater relief--at the knowledge that this was not true.
Chapter 8: Into the Beast's Lair
Never before had I known ten days to be of such short duration. Since we had moved to Everforest, there were often days when I worked unceasingly from dawn until dusk. These days, as quickly as they passed, were nothing in comparison to the swiftness of the passage of the days that stood between my freedom and my captivity in the lair of a beast. It seemed mere moments between the time I lifted my head from my pillow to begin my day and when I laid my head back onto my pillow at night. Each day was so full of frenetic activity that, despite my troubled mind, I immediately fell into an exhausted sleep.
The flight of those days was something like the death of my mother, for their passage felt like the beginning of the end of all things. Once at the beast's castle, all I had ever known or loved would be lost to me forever, just as my mother was lost to me forever. There was much I wanted to say, but I was not free to speak the words. I wanted every day to tell Papa how much I loved him but could not, for I feared he would instantly divine what I was planning and would stop me. Though it would pain me horrifically to leave him, it was inconceivable that I could survive the agony of his leaving.
In spite of my care and my diligent attempts to make all my own preparations, it was not long before I understood that I could not possibly ready myself without some assistance, and I turned to my sisters. They did not help out of the goodness of their own hearts, nor did they do so in order to protect Papa. Rather, they gladly offered their aide because it would help them achieve two of their dearest aims: to see me disposed of, and to ensure that Papa would remain with them and continue to provide for them until they could marry and transfer their dependence to their unfortunate husbands. In spite of my disgust for the motivations behind their actions, I was glad for their assistance. They were able to procure the supplies I needed for my journey and they agreed to divert Papa for as long as possible in order to delay his discovery of my departure.
While they were engaged with these tasks, I did all I could to see to it that the cottage would be in good order when I left. I
Upon my return to the castle, I went immediately into my chambers and found the water that my servants had left out for me. They always knew when I hunted and they knew that when I returned the water was to be ready for me. As the feral thrill of the hunt wore off, it was imperative for me to wash away the blood of my prey lest my human revulsion overtake me.
When I had cleaned the blood from my fur, I lay upon the floor and contemplated the wisdom of continuing to hunt if the maiden were to come to me. A part of me was regretful at the thought of giving up this base pleasure, but another part of me was relieved. It would be very difficult to resist the temptation to hunt, but if the maiden were to arrive and I were to attempt to woo her, she would surely not be impressed by the knowledge of my hunts or by the evidence they left upon me.
It was a triumph for my human self that I decided I had best give up my hunts if the maiden came to the castle. I felt such a powerful sense of relief at this triumph that it left me feeble and weak. The passage of time had rendered me more and more bestial, to the point that I had nearly stopped thinking of myself as a man. It had taken the wanderer's arrival and the prospect of his daughter to restore to me the memories of what I had once been. I had worried that I had given in to my animal side, that I had relinquished my will to defeat the curse, and I felt a sense of great power--and even greater relief--at the knowledge that this was not true.
Chapter 8: Into the Beast's Lair
Never before had I known ten days to be of such short duration. Since we had moved to Everforest, there were often days when I worked unceasingly from dawn until dusk. These days, as quickly as they passed, were nothing in comparison to the swiftness of the passage of the days that stood between my freedom and my captivity in the lair of a beast. It seemed mere moments between the time I lifted my head from my pillow to begin my day and when I laid my head back onto my pillow at night. Each day was so full of frenetic activity that, despite my troubled mind, I immediately fell into an exhausted sleep.
The flight of those days was something like the death of my mother, for their passage felt like the beginning of the end of all things. Once at the beast's castle, all I had ever known or loved would be lost to me forever, just as my mother was lost to me forever. There was much I wanted to say, but I was not free to speak the words. I wanted every day to tell Papa how much I loved him but could not, for I feared he would instantly divine what I was planning and would stop me. Though it would pain me horrifically to leave him, it was inconceivable that I could survive the agony of his leaving.
In spite of my care and my diligent attempts to make all my own preparations, it was not long before I understood that I could not possibly ready myself without some assistance, and I turned to my sisters. They did not help out of the goodness of their own hearts, nor did they do so in order to protect Papa. Rather, they gladly offered their aide because it would help them achieve two of their dearest aims: to see me disposed of, and to ensure that Papa would remain with them and continue to provide for them until they could marry and transfer their dependence to their unfortunate husbands. In spite of my disgust for the motivations behind their actions, I was glad for their assistance. They were able to procure the supplies I needed for my journey and they agreed to divert Papa for as long as possible in order to delay his discovery of my departure.
While they were engaged with these tasks, I did all I could to see to it that the cottage would be in good order when I left. I
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