Page 9 of Betraying the Beast

Ceryn hesitated, then took a small bite of the roasted fowl. The taste exploded on her tongue—more vivid, more satisfying than any food she’d eaten before. Her appetite faded and she set her fork down, eying the plate with wariness. Was it enchanted, like the fruit? Would it bind her to this place somehow?

As if reading her thoughts, Vael’Zhur smiled, revealing sharp teeth. “The food is safe, Ceryn Vale. Had I wished to enthrall you, I would have forced the silverfruit past your lips when I had the chance.”

She took another cautious bite. “Why didn’t you?”

The question hung between them, unanswered for several long moments. Vael’Zhur’s amber eyes studied her face with unsettling intensity.

“Tell me about Aldaric,” he said instead of answering. “What does he want with my fruit?”

Ceryn carefully set down her fork. This was dangerous territory, but also an opportunity. Information for information.

“He believes it grants unnatural life,” she replied honestly. “Power. Magic. He thinks it might be the source of your condition.”

“My curse,” Vael’Zhur corrected, his voice hardening. “Call it what it is. I am cursed, not diseased.” He leaned forward, massive forearms resting on the table. “And how does Aldaric know of the silverfruit? Few beyond these walls have seen it and lived to tell the tale.”

“I don’t know,” Ceryn admitted. “He seems to know much about this castle. About you.”

“And he sent you to steal it? Why you? What makes you special, Ceryn Vale?”

The directness of his question caught her off guard. She decided to go with honesty and hoped it would earn her truth in return. “I’m not special. I’m expendable.” She met his gaze steadily. “I know these woods better than most. I’ve hunted in them for years, feeding my family since my father died. Aldaric took my mother and sister hostage to ensure my cooperation.”

Something flickered in Vael’Zhur’s eyes—recognition, perhaps. Or memory.

“And if you fail? If you do not return with what he seeks?”

“Then my family dies,” she said simply. “And so do I, I imagine.”

Vael’Zhur was silent for a long moment, studying her with those unnerving amber eyes. “So you entered my domain not out of greed or curiosity, but out of love.” His massive head tilted slightly. “Fascinating.”

“Is it? Would you not do the same for those you care about?”

His expression darkened, and for a moment, the beast seemed to overshadow the man. “I have no one left to care about.”

The bitterness in his voice was palpable, opening a window into centuries of rage and pain. Here was the connection she sought—the link between the warlord and the beast’s curse.

“What happened to them?” she asked softly.

Vael’Zhur’s clawed hand tightened around his goblet, the metal crumpling in his grip. Wine the color of blood spilled across the tablecloth.

“That, little thief, is a tale for another time.” He rose abruptly, towering over her. “You have answered some of my questions. For now, that earns you your life, if not your freedom.”

Ceryn stood as well, though the top of her head barely reached his chest. “I’ve told you the truth. I’ve kept nothing from you.”

“Haven’t you?” He stepped closer, invading her space with his massive presence. The heat from his body washed over her, along with that strange spiced scent. “I can smell lies, Ceryn Vale. I can smell fear, and desperation, and...” He inhaled deeply, his face mere inches from her hair. “...desire.”

Her heart lurched traitorously in her chest. “You’re mistaken.”

“Am I?” His voice dropped to a rumbling whisper. One clawed finger lifted to trace the air beside her cheek, not quite touching. “There is something between us. Something neither of us expected.”

Ceryn stood her ground, though every instinct screamed for her to flee. Not from fear—at least, not entirely—but from the strange, unwelcome heat building within her at his proximity.

“I came here for the silverfruit,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. “Nothing more.”

“And yet you tremble when I stand close.” He circled her slowly, predator assessing prey. “Your heart races. Your cheeks flush. Is it merely fear, I wonder? Or something else?”

“You flatter yourself,” she retorted, turning to keep him in view. “I’m trembling because I’m in the lair of a monster who could kill me with a single blow.”

Vael’Zhur laughed then, a sound so unexpected and strangely human that it momentarily stripped away the horror of his appearance. “You have spirit, little thief. Most would be on their knees begging for mercy.”

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