A Rose for the Beast

Unleashed By The Moon

Rosalie wrapped her arms around herself, both unable and unwilling to accept the fact that Michel had a fiancé; one who had a prediliction for torturing him.

She'd been a fool to think a man of his stature wouldn't have a woman waiting for him. She would never have guessed the anti-social male was a womanizer either.

"It's not what you're thinking. Our parents arranged it before they died. I accepted it until I met her and found out how deranged she was. As you can see, she doesn't take no for an answer."

She calmed down slightly, somewhat relieved to know he wasn't just a taken man with a wandering eye.

"Why do you allow her to hurt you and your servants?"

"It's more complicated than that. I've been--"

Whatever Michel had been going to say was cut off by a gutteral groan as he fell to his knees. She attempted to help, but he held up his hand to keep her at bay. His wide-eyed gaze flew across the room, landing on the clock sitting on a desk by the couch.

8:00 PM

Sundown

Rosalie watched in horror as Michel curled into himself. The cracking of bones and his agonized screams terrified her. She had no idea what to do. Then, he reared his head back and yelled loudly.

When he lifted his gaze, animalistic eyes stared back at her full of anguish. Her chest tightened and she reached a hand out. The tortured look melted into a furious snarl, a low growl escaping his mouth. His teeth sharpened before her eyes. Then, he bellowed out a defeaning roar that sent her stumbling back and onto the ground.

Her body trembled, overcome with trepidation and completely absorbed in witnessing an incredible scene. Hair extended from every inch of Michel's skin, coating him in a layer of bronze colored fur. His arms grew in width and his legs stretched until he was over nine feet tall, breaking and twisting into cloven hooves. His huge hands ended with sharp claws and they wrapped around his morphing skull.

When he peered at her again, hands dropping like sandbags to the floor, she no longer saw any original part of Michel. His face had shifted into a bizarre mix between a lion and a ram, jaws filled with sharp teeth and massive protruding canines.

They gazed at each other for a time. Rosalie was drowning in the silence, awaiting a wild attack from the monstrous beast. He kept his knees firmly planted on the floor. She finally found her voice.

"M...Michel?," her voice wavered, more from adrenaline than fear.

His pupils dilated and he shoved a clawed hand toward her. She shrieked and cowered on impulse.

The beast lowered his head, hope scattering from him. A low growl emanated from his chest, increasing in volume as he vocalized his frustration and rage. He rose abruptly and rushed from the room, leaving her sitting on the floor.

Completely stunned, Rosalie remained there until Monsieur Carotte entered the library a few minutes later. His ears dropped behind his head as he regarded her sympathetically.

She gazed down at the floor.

"The curse?," she asked.

"Part of it, yes," he affirmed with a note of apprehension.

Rosalie looked back up at the rabbit, swallowing back her angst to ask the next question on her mind.

"Does he want me to leave?"

Mr. Carotte tucked his chin in and rubbed his front feet together nervously. She could tell by his fidgeting that he didn't want to answer, but had apparently been told to remove Rosalie from the castle.

"You must vacate immediately, I'm afraid," he said in a reserved tone.

Rosalie blinked back tears and swallowed the stinging pain of rejection. Being ostracized should have been second nature to her after living in the village for so long, constantly avoiding the judgmental sneers of Maelynn's citizens. But that experience didn't make this one hurt any less.

This time the pain engulfed her, burying her in sorrow and self-pity. She forced herself to rise up, wiping a stray tear away as she walked to the door.

Rosalie paused before leaving, hesitating to take one last look at the wondrous room Michel had taken the time to show to her. She left it behind, closing the door to the library. As it clicked shut with an ominous thud, she realized this was the end of her adventure.

Everything had culminated into this chaotic mess.

Don't let her illusion fool you...

Remembering the wolf's words caused determination to ignite from within her soul, destroying the guilt and shame to make way for stubborn tenacity.

Rosalie grasped onto her bravery for dear life as she strode purposefully up the stairs to the West Wing.

My adventure isn't over just yet.