A Ruin of Roses (Deliciously Dark Fairytales – B&tB Book 1)
A Ruin of Roses: Chapter 2

Idodged and prepared to strike, but I didn’t get the chance.

A huge form blasted out from the space between the two trunks to my right.

I cried out and fell backward, my dagger falling uselessly from my hand. The form moved so fast that it was nearly a blur. I barely saw the hulking frame, its shoulders well above my head, and the enormous legs ending in six-inch claws. Darkness slid across it as though they were old friends.

A picture out of my nightmares.

The beast.

A fierce growl was all the warning the mockingbird of terror got before the beast plowed into it and took it back the way it had come. I didn’t get a chance to see the beast’s head. I did watch its tail slide across the ground, though, the spikes on the end whipping in the opposite direction.

A high-pitched squeal of agony accompanied the wet, gloppy sounds of teeth tearing through flesh. Fire raged through my body, but thankfully, the desire was long gone.

Not one to waste good fortune, I grabbed my dagger and jumped up. A moment later, I was running with everything I had. Ripping through bushes and ducking under branches, I didn’t stick to any kind of path. I didn’t care if I could be tracked or heard. I doubted anyone would chase a scrappy little shifter who couldn’t shift, not with the monstrous melee going on behind me.

I burst out across the Forbidden Wood’s boundary and raced around the village the long way to my house. It would be faster if I didn’t have to worry about jumping fences.

I stomped up my steps and barged through the door. Before I could catch my breath, I turned and slammed the door shut behind me. I yanked the heavy timber at the side in place across the door, securing us in.

Hannon pushed up from the couch, his eyes anxious. Seeing me with my back against the door, panting, he hurried to the little window overlooking the porch, grabbing the interior wood shutters to block it off.

“No,” I panted, my chest still heaving. I unslung the pack with everlass and straightened it out. I didn’t want my nearly deadly trip to have been in vain. “Leave it.”

He paused with the shutters halfway closed. Without a word, he slowly pushed them back before peering out into the night.

“You saw it,” he said softly.

Straightening up, I gulped air and shook my head. “No. I mean…” I licked my lips, utterly parched.

Without a word, he moved toward the kitchen. After years of nursing our parents, he didn’t need to be told what a person needed.

“Kinda. I saw a huge shape. A body. And a tail. And the foot. The foot. It had to have been the beast.”

“How close was it?”

He shouldn’t be asking that. He never asked how close my close calls were. That kept me from having to lie.

This time, though, I didn’t feel like covering up what had happened.

I told him everything, from the shaking birch, to the weird, territorial owl, to the strong incubus that never materialized, to the strange escape.

“I don’t think it was coming after me,” I finally said, having moved to the couch and finished two cups of water. “I mean…at first it obviously was. It stalked me. So did that other creature—”

“How?” Hannon asked, sitting in the wooden chair opposite me. He’d made it.

“All the noise around me, I guess, I don’t know. The birch and then the owl. Or maybe the draught to deaden smell didn’t work? It’s not like I have ever properly tested it in the Forbidden Wood. I’ve only ever tested it in the forests to the south and east, on real animals in natural habitats, not on demon creatures in an evil ecosystem. The magic in the Forbidden Wood is twisted.”

“Well.” Hannon rubbed his face. “I’m going to bed. Father is sleeping peacefully right now. The elixir earlier really helped. Maybe he’ll be lucid tomorrow.”

I nodded and stayed put for a moment. I’d need to dote on the everlass leaves tonight if they were going to work for me. I had to nestle them into their drying tray and sprinkle them with water to keep them fresh until they could be dried in tomorrow’s dying sun. Very high-maintenance, those leaves. But if you treated them well, they kept your loved ones alive.

For a moment, though, I just wanted to sit and unwind. There were still so many questions to ponder, like what the fuck was up with that birch tree? And where had that owl come from and what was its problem? Most importantly, though, what had happened with the incubus? I highly doubted the mockingbird of terror could turn a person on. It had its thing, and sexy-time was not it. Neither did I think the beast moonlighted as a sex god. I would’ve heard about that. So what was affecting me like a filthy good time, and was it still out there? Because incubi had no problem wandering into the village and taking what they wanted. Sure, they might usually be easy to ignore, but this one was something else.

Late the next morning, I held out my mug for a specially made tea in our homely kitchen. Coffee was a thing of the past, new supplies lost to us when the curse went into effect. Coffee beans were grown in a few kingdoms, not to mention the human realm beyond the magical veil, but we weren’t one of them. When my parents had been plagued with headaches after the supply ran out, I devised a mixture to calm the ache and still give a little kick to start the morning. It had done the trick, and now I looked forward to it.

Hannon pulled the pot off the hook hanging over the fire and tilted it. A tiny bit of life-saving draught filled my mug.

“Try again,” I said with a yawn, keeping my mug in the air.

“We’re out. I indulged a little too much last night when you were getting chased by beasts around the wood. I still slept like a baby when you got back, though.” He grinned at me.

I scowled, took a sip, and leaned against the clean but chipped stone countertop. “Whose turn is it to go to the marketplace today?”

“Yours, thank the lovely goddess.”

“What’s up with you?” I looked at him over the lip of my mug as he went about kneading bread. He was the useful one in our family. He’d essentially taken over for Mom, cooking and sewing and woodworking and doing all kinds of other handy stuff—he was the master of all trades. My abilities were limited to healing, hunting, fishing, gardening, and narrowly escaping the beast of the Forbidden Wood. It was partially why I needed to take all the risks. This family could not survive without Hannon. Not even for a little while.

He rolled his eyes and stopped his kneading for a moment. “Daphne.”

I felt a grin creep up my tired face. “We all need admirers.”

“Yeah, well…” He shook his head and went back to his task. After a moment, he spilled his guts. “She knows I had my twenty-fifth birthday last month.”

My grin widened. “Prime mating age, yes. Go on.”

“She has something she wants to ask me.”

“No…” I pushed forward gleefully. “Is she going to propose?”

“Women don’t propose, Finley. I think she wants to ask me to propose to her, though. She’s not been subtle about her…desires.”

I could feel my toothy grin. Hannon was not like most guys in our spit-wad of a village. He didn’t chase skirts and visit the pubs after dark to fornicate with succubi. He liked to get to know a lady before progressing to the next level. Because of that and his stout frame and gingerific good looks, he did seem to get to the next level (banging) every time he put the effort in. He just didn’t put the effort in very much.

And that drove the ladies wild.

“Women aren’t supposed to hunt, either. Or wear ill-fitting men’s trousers. Yet here I am…”

“You’re different.”

“You just think that because I’m your sister. Boys aren’t supposed to cook and look after their families, and yet you excel at that better than most women. Maybe she’s your true mate.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right. True mates aren’t possible.”

“You know what I mean.” I recited it as if to a dunce. “Maybe she’d be your true mate if the curse hadn’t suppressed all our animals, and we could actually function like real shifters.”

He paused for a moment. “I don’t think true mates ever existed. I’ve read the histories, same as you, and none of them confirm they’re real.”

“First of all, our library is small and limited, and before the curse, people weren’t looking to learn about their shifter traits from books. They learned about that from their peers. So it makes sense that we wouldn’t have many volumes on shifter functionality. I know that because I whined about it, and that’s what I was told. Second, those that are carried are histories focused on the nobles and kings and queens and important people. They marry for money and power. They don’t give a shit about love. Common people like us have a better chance at finding our true mate.”

I didn’t actually believe that, but I loved to play devil’s advocate. I knew for a fact that my brother did wish to meet his true mate. That he would honor his animal’s choice (should he ever meet his animal, locked inside of him), and mate her as nature intended.

I, myself, did not believe in destined anything. I wasn’t the type to allow anyone to push me around, even if it was my own primal side doing the pushing. Nor did I give a crap about love and mating. Not anymore. Not since I’d gotten my heart ripped out and stomped on two years ago. My ex had dumped me and then quickly gone on to mate a toothy girl dedicated to needlepoint and looking after him.

His reasoning for the breakup? He needed someone ready and able to run a house. He wanted a “proper” wife.

Apparently in his eyes, and in the eyes of most of the people in the village, a proper wife didn’t hunt better than her husband, or at all. She didn’t tan hides, play with knives, and wear trousers. Nor did she look after villagers ailing from the curse’s sickness more than she would tend to her husband’s less-than-dire needs. This was because she would’ve (apparently incorrectly) assumed her husband was an adult and didn’t need a nursemaid to wipe his mouth and assure him he was the master of the universe. Silly her.

Clearly I would be single forever. It really wasn’t a huge loss, though, given the dickfaces in this village. It was just too bad about the dry spell for the last two years. That wasn’t so easily borne, especially with lust demons wandering around.

“I think true mates are incredibly rare,” Hannon murmured.

“Well, yeah. There is one person in all of the magical world meant for us? And they have to be the same type of shifter, same overall power level, and same general age… Lots of ‘ands.’ But it is doable, or else we wouldn’t have a name for it. Besides, Daphne is very pretty and very willing. I know how you like them curves, too.”

I could see his cheek and ear turn bright crimson. He was very easy to embarrass. I made it my goal to do it at least once a day.

“I’m too young to marry,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, right. That’s not even remotely true, and you know it. Not since the curse. None of us have a long life expectancy anymore—we need to get life rolling. Hell, if that donkey hadn’t dumped me, I might be mated with a bun in the oven right now.”

“Still,” he muttered.

I ignored the pang in my broken heart and tapped the counter. “Do you have a list, or should I guess what we need?”

“We don’t have enough coin for you to guess.”

“This is true. I’m pretty hungry. I go crazy when I shop hungry. Hurry up with that bread.”

He glowered at me, the red in his cheeks just now starting to seep away.

“Oh hey…” He pulled the slip of oddly shaped, overly thick, beige-splotched handmade paper from the edge of the counter and held it out.

We didn’t have normal paper anymore. We couldn’t power the machines to make it. Instead, we either had to make it by hand from wood pulp, plants, and any paper left over from before the curse, or trade for it. Parchment could be made, as well, though that was more expensive and reserved for special situations.

In this house, we received it as a thanks for helping with the everlass or elixir. It wasn’t pretty, but it worked.

“About Dash…” Hannon said.

I finished what was in the mug and set it beside the washbasin. I’d completely forgotten about Dash. I’d only managed a couple hours of sleep last night, and anything not relevant to everlass completely slipped my mind.

“Yes, what was that about?” I asked.

Seriousness stole over Hannon’s expression. “One of his friends knows the location of the field. I guess you’re not the only one who uses it occasionally. He took Dash and another friend. I guess the kid goes with his older brother to collect the leaves.”

The blood left my face. “Are they insane? Why would they risk a ten-year-old boy?”

“They go at high noon, I guess. The least dangerous time. They sacrifice the potency of the leaves in the elixir for the safety of the kids.”

I was having a hard time processing this. To risk the children at all. Children! They were all we had. They were the most important resource in this village. It was why Dash and Sable were pampered more than they probably should be. Overprotected. Watched more than was probably healthy. We needed the kids to keep up our numbers, or we were in danger of fading away.

“We have to do a better job of watching him,” I said, mostly talking to myself. “He’s going to get the spanking of his life. I don’t care how old he is. I will put the fear of the Divine Goddess in him so that he never does that again.”

“You were fourteen…”

“Four years older than him, and I was Nana’s only hope. Not that it helped. Dash has no reason to be out there.”

“I know,” he said softly. “We do need to talk with him.”

I let out a breath. “Well. Now we know. And we have plenty of leaves to keep us going until spring. We’re good.”

Not long afterward, I walked down the sunny lane to the little village market in the square. It mostly held produce and trinkets, some furniture, and one or two hides or pelts. We used to have much more, I remembered, back when I was a kid. Travelers would come to our market, bringing their special skills and wares, and the villagers created finer arts and crafts to sell to the outsiders. I used to love wandering by the various stalls, looking at the beautiful hand-blown glass, the fun designs on the needlework, and the art and sculptures. I would help my mother run our booth from time to time, offering some flowers I’d grown or pelts I’d helped Father cure. I’d say hello to the traveling people and watch their juggling on the grass in the square.

But our kingdom had disappeared from the hearts and minds of the magical world. No one could come here even if they wanted to. Worse, no one could leave. Many had tried over the years. Or so I’d heard. I had been too young to witness any of this firsthand.

Some had attempted escape through the communal forests to the east and south of the village. That land technically belonged to the royal family, but it had been allocated for the use of the village. As a result, it had not been directly cursed, like the Forbidden Wood, and no everlass grew there.

Regardless, a group of villagers had set out to leave that way. From what I understood, they made it a certain distance before they could go no farther. The air crystalized before them, scorching those who tried to push past it. Killing those who continued through the pain.

After that, the survivors—desperate, enraged, and frightened—set out for the castle. They carried pitchforks and bows, spears and torches, intent on demanding their freedom.

Not one of them returned.

That very evening, the demon king appeared in the village square. He announced that if anyone set foot in the Forbidden Wood, they would be punished. Steal, and they’d be hanged. Just like in the days of old.

He remained true to his word, or so people said. It was unclear if people were punished, hanged, or eaten by the beast or one of the other creatures, but in those early days, anyone who ventured in never came back.

We were trapped in this lost and forsaken place, shifters unable to shift. Unable to even feel the animals inside of us. Magic mostly kept beyond our fingertips.

It wasn’t as bad for people like me, since I’d never known my animal and didn’t remember much from the old days. I’d never known the primal power and strength and extra abilities that came with shifting. Someone older and more experienced was supposed to guide a young shifter through the change on the first full moon after their sixteenth birthday, but our powers had been suppressed long before my coming of age. I didn’t know what I was missing.

For our elders, it was such a grievous loss that they wouldn’t talk about it anymore. At all. I didn’t know who used to turn into what animal. I didn’t know details of a shifter’s life, or what it felt like to change. I didn’t know much of anything about what I was supposed to be.

I had learned one thing: a demon’s offers always had strings attached. Their sugarcoated words had a sour aftertaste. Whatever deal our mad king had been trying to make, the one he’d eventually accepted damned us all. In suppressing our animals, the demons had also suppressed our ability to heal quickly. Our strength. Our fighting prowess. They’d cut us off at the knees. The nobility had tried to resist after the mad king’s death, but they were cut down. Most of the army went next. Without their ability to shift, they were easy prey. Almost overnight, the kingdom was an island, all six villages and the castle at the center cut off from the outside world and at the mercy of the demons. What a wonderful life.

I remembered the onslaught of emotions I’d felt back then. The horror, anger, sadness, and desperation, but I was young. I learned how to adapt. I learned purpose. A purpose I still felt. A fight I would not give up until the day I died.

This would be my life until I went out screaming. And if people would just leave me alone, I could get on with it.

“Hello, Phyl,” I said as the blacksmith walked toward me with a large hammer in his massive hand. He was the only man in the village who had never batted an eye about my love of sharp things.

He nodded with a smile, showing a large gap between his front teeth. “Well, hello, Finley. Lovely day, isn’t it?”

“Very nice,” I said, heading for the village center.

Devious Rita grinned at me from over the wooden counter in the tomato stall. “Well, hello, Miss Finley. Bed any demons lately? I hear the demon king likes virgins in particular.”

“Oh yeah? Dang. I’m not a virgin. Unless assholes count?”

She laughed and packed up a few tomatoes and some lettuce. “Probably. Did I tell you? I saw Patsy Baker getting spit-roasted the other evening. That’s when one is taking her from the rear, and one is taking her from the front.”

Devious Rita liked to make the young people blush. She had a field day with Hannon. I was much harder to rile up, but I appreciated her efforts. It was another side effect of being trapped here—some people had just gotten…weird. I’d learned to just roll with it.

“That right? Was she having a nice time?”

“Until she was squirted in the eye. That’s when—”

“I know what that means, yeah. No need to elaborate.”

“I heard the demon king snuck into little Dalia Foster’s room the other night and plucked her cherry. She’s expecting his child.”

“Gross. I hate that expression.”

Her grin was wicked.

I didn’t mention that “little” Dalia Foster was nearly my age and didn’t have any fruit left to offer…from any of her orifices. She’d experienced physical intimacy early, I’d heard, and experimented heavily. Apparently, the birth-nulling tea had failed her. But at least she had a good excuse to tell her overbearing father.

Devious Rita tied the bag and handed it over.

“And when will it be your turn?” she asked, her gaze dipping to my flat stomach. “You’re a pretty girl. Maybe the demon king will make an exception for you and sneak in your window. I hear he’s an excellent lover.”

“Oh yeah? Even with a knife in his gut? Because that’s exactly what would happen if he tried to climb into my room.”

She was talking rubbish, obviously. This village had seen the demon king exactly once, from what I had heard, and that was when he warned everyone to stick to the village or face death. He hadn’t been interested in the women then, and he wouldn’t be now. Not women from here, at any rate. We had always been the poorest village in the kingdom. He was also rumored to hate shifters. No, there would be no visits from the demon king in this place.

“If not him, then I guess you’ll be happy to hear that a certain someone has decided to finally take a wife…”

Cold ran through my middle.

She had to mean Jedrek. Ugh!

He’d been after me since I was sixteen, wanting nothing more than to get in my pants. After the string of rejections, he’d decided he didn’t just want a lay, he wanted to mate.

Delusion was strong with that one.

“You’re joking,” I said. This was all I needed. He was a tenacious fucker when he wanted something.

Her smile was cunning. “Not at all. I hear he was looking for you earlier. Very handsome, that Jedrek, isn’t he? And quite the hunter. He owns his own home, and his wife will want for nothing.”

“Except affection, her own free will, orgasms she didn’t facilitate herself…”

“Oh look, he’s coming now—”

I turned quickly and hurried down the way. Rita’s cackles followed me past the line of stalls. I needed to cut this trip short before he saw me—

“Finley!”

Too late. Dammit!

Jedrek stalked up to me with the swagger of a champion, his thick arms swinging, his chin held high, and his shining black hair catching the sun. More than one woman turned to look, appreciating the view.

This dipshit had somehow beaten Hannon out for the questionable distinction of most eligible bachelor. Sure, he was handsome. And yes, he did have a house and viable income, but that was only because he hadn’t done a damn thing to help his parents survive the sickness. Hannon could have those things too if he fucked his family out in the street and let Father succumb to the sickness. He wasn’t a weasel-faced fucker, though. That was the difference.

“Jedrek, hey,” I said, looking at my list so he got the hint that I was busy.

“You’re looking ravishing today.” He gave me an appreciative pat-down with his eyeballs.

“Awesome. I was just grabbing a few things—”

“Did you hear?” He slid his hand through his hair, flexing his bicep as he did so.

“Your ego is so heavy you stoop when you walk?”

“It’s time for me to take a wife. I have a nice little nest egg and plenty of room for a nursery.” His gaze lowered to my hips.

Was he checking out my birthing hips?

“Well, good luck with that.” I smiled with entirely too many teeth and tried to duck around him.

“Now, Finley, we both know we’re the match of the village.” He adjusted his britches, looking around at our audience. Apparently everyone had known this was coming but me. Super.

“And why would I know that, Jedrek?” I adjusted my sack so it covered more of my person.

He gave a flawless smile as he stepped a little closer. “Because we are the most desirable people in this village. It’s only natural that we mate.”

“Beauty fades, Jedrek. But faults remain, and I pride myself on having a lot of faults.”

His booming laugh didn’t fit my comment. “Nonsense, Finley. You will give me strong heirs with which to carry on my line.”

“Oh good. For a second there, I thought it was going to be all about you.”

He turned and slid his arm around my shoulders. “We will have the grandest wedding. A plate of meat for everyone. You wouldn’t want to deny the village of a celebration, do you?”

Those within earshot, which was a number growing by the minute, perked up.

Fantastic, he was playing the guilt angle. How low was that? If I said no, I’d be the bad guy. That would make for a very pleasant rest of my life…

“I’ll have to think on it,” I said, wriggling away.

He grabbed my arm and whipped me around. I sucked in a startled breath as he leaned in closer, his eyes blazing. “You will marry me, Finley. I’ve made it clear in the village that you are my intended. No one else will touch you. I will have you.”

His double meaning flashed in his eyes, his lust plain.

I kept the disgust from my face. He’d drawn an audience. I’d give them a show.

I increased the wattage of my voice.

“Who has two fingers, a thumb, and nightly orgasms? This girl. I wouldn’t want to give that up for a boring ride on your tiny dick. Go peddle your shit somewhere else. This pail is full to the brim.”

Gasps sounded around me. More than a couple of people chuckled.

I ripped my arm out of his grasp and continued on through the market. I didn’t for a second think it was over.