Page 3 of Betraying the Beast

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice even despite her trepidation.

“Direct. I appreciate that.” Aldaric leaned forward, clasping his hands on the table. “I understand you know the forbidden forest better than anyone. That you hunt there regularly, despite the... restrictions.”

Her pulse quickened and the fear that had only just bled from her after her encounter with the beast was renewed. Was this about poaching? Would he take her hands? Her eyes? The penalties for hunting without permission in the warlord’s forests were brutal but no one ever hunted in the forbidden forest.

“I have a task for you,” he continued. “One I strongly advise you to accept.”

“I wasn’t aware I had a choice,” she replied, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice.

Aldaric laughed, the sound startlingly genuine. “You really don’t. Clever girl.” His smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “You will go to the beast’s castle.”

Ice flooded Ceryn’s veins. The beast. The same creature she’d just fled from, that even now held her cloak in its clawed hands.

“He has something I need,” Aldaric continued. “And you will obtain it for me, or your mother and sister will pay the price.”

“What is it?” Ceryn’s mouth had gone dry. “What could the beast possibly have that you want?”

“The Beast is immortal and I need the source of his power,” Aldaric said, his tone conversational, as if discussing the weather even as he waved his hand as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “Sadly, the same source also makes his mad, insane, and prone to fits of homicidal rage. That is… unfortunate. I need you to find out how to counter the side effect and make me immortal.”

“That’s impossible,” Ceryn protested. “The beast would tear me apart before I got within a hundred paces of the castle!”

Aldaric’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know what happens to those who defy me, girl? Ask your father.” He leaned closer. “Oh wait, you can’t. Can you?”

Ceryn’s hands trembled beneath the table.

“Three days,” he said, rising from the chair. “You have three days to enter the castle and find what I seek. My soldiers have already escorted your mother and sister to my keep, where they will enjoy my... hospitality until you return.” He smiled thinly. “Consider it motivation.”

“It’s folly. Three days isn’t enough time to discover what you need. Even if I survive the beast,” she protested.

He stared down at her. “Time is running out for both of us, but I can give you a week.” He tore open his shirt revealing a blackened wound with tendrils spiraling outward like poison invading his body and the smell of decay intensified. “We both have an interest in your success. Lives are at stake, Ceryn. There is an orchard on the castle grounds. A silver fruit grows there that may be what I seek, according to a seer. Bring me the fruit but only once you have confirmed it is the source of his power. And be sure to discover how to counter the side effects.”

“And if I fail?” Ceryn forced herself to ask.

“Then you will have the privilege of choosing which one dies first.” He adjusted his gloves, casual as if discussing a minor trade agreement. “Though I suspect little Maeva wouldn’t last long in my dungeons anyway.”

Ceryn’s vision swam red with rage and terror. “I’ll do it,” she whispered.

“Of course you will.” Aldaric strode to the door, Rorik falling into step behind him. “One of my men will remain in the village to escort you when you return—with the beast’s power in your possession.” He paused in the doorway. “Don’t disappoint me, Ceryn Vale. I’m not known for my forgiveness.”

The door closed behind them, leaving Ceryn alone in the silent cottage, the faint smell of death lingering in the air.

Chapter

Two

Ceryn didn’t bother gathering supplies. She wouldn’t need them for this journey. She would either survive and return quickly or be dead. She would venture deeper into the forbidden forest, far deeper than she ever had before. Hopefully she’d survive. The trees here grew impossibly tall, their ancient trunks wider than village houses, their canopies so dense that only thin, silvery shafts of daylight penetrated the gloom. With each step, the forest closed in around her, watching, judging, even guiding her toward her destination.

Toward her doom. The same doom that claimed her father’s life, if the warlord’s words were to be believed.

The warlord’s words echoed in her mind. The source of the beast’s power. A silver fruit from a walled orchard. One that supposedly granted unnatural life, enhanced magic, and and also made one filled with rage. Aldaric had been unusually specific about this part of his demands, his eyes gleaming with an almost feverish light as he’d described the fruit—“like an apple or plum, but veined with silver, glowing with its own inner radiance.”

He had provided additional details before leaving the cottage, but she wondered what he hadn’t shared. She didn’t doubt that he was dying. She saw the wound, smelled death on the warlord for herself. But what hadn’t he told her? She didn’t doubt that he didn’t share everything. What else did the fruit do? Not that it mattered to her. She would give him anything he needed to save her mother and sister.

“Consuming even one would make me—” he’d caught himself, smiling thinly. “Would make anyone a force to be reckoned with. But one alone will not suffice. You must verify its power, eliminate the side effects, and secure a way to obtain more.”

Which meant getting caught. Deliberately placing herself in the beast’s clutches.

Her stomach twisted with each step closer to the castle. The warlord’s plan was madness. But what choice did she have? Maeva and her mother were already on their way to Aldaric’s keep, hostages to ensure her cooperation. If she fled, they would suffer. If she failed...

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