Page 4 of Bianca and the Monsters

There’s packing to do.

Chapter4

Archibald

Tension fills me, my muscles popping and my fists clenched. And I’m pacing—well, stomping in truth—back and forth in a room not meant for such treatment. This is an elegant space, a sitting room for refined gentlemen, at least that’s its intended purpose. But I’m not feeling refined at the moment. Not even close.

Taran cuddles into Nico’s soft fur, as he usually does when dark emotional energy fills the castle. Taran’s the most affected by everything, and for him, I usually take my moods beyond the walls and inflict them on the massive woods surrounding our estate. The trees can take it, but today, there’s no escaping it.

“It’s time to take the risk,” Pennie says, for not the first time. “It is—youknowit is.”

Scrunching my nose, I shout, “I know it is, but we must think this through! You know the risks.” Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. I spin back to face him, my shoulders slumping and my rage dissipating as my truest worries surface. “What if she takes one look at us and runs in terror? You know what happens if we bring her here and she denies us. Everything is lost, and worse, they’ll find Taran and…”

Taran shudders, his opalescent eyes filled with a resigned brand of desolation. “They could find me tomorrow, today even.” His voice is lulling and dear. “You three have concealed me for decades, but every day, I’ve woken knowing that those who hunt my kind could arrive at this castle, demanding that the queen’s laws ofhospitalitybe honored. They would scent me instantly and I’d be taken, and you three would lose everything for giving me shelter. But if Bianca comes… ifshewere to claim me, then we’re all safe. The queen’s laws are treacherous, but she will honor them.”

Nico pulls Taran even closer into his blue and black fur, which Taran nuzzles into and inhales deeply of Nico’s soothing fragrance. It does nothing for me, unfortunately, but if it did, I’d be cuddling with the fuzzy beast whether he liked it or not.

“He’s right,” Pennie blurts, his grey scales glistening. “You know he is. And it’s time. Everything in life is a risk in one way or another, but Bianca… she’s worth it.”

I plop so abruptly on a chair that it groans and I stare at my family. Pennie. Nico. Taran. We certainly weren’t born of the same clans, but we’re family now. I can’t imagine life without them. Winning Bianca at the cost of any of them is unacceptable, but without Bianca, we will always be living this uncertain existence, as though the castle of my forebears might sink into the moat at any moment.

The queen is vengeful—for good reason—and our luck in evading her notice won’t hold forever. She’ll certainly know the moment Bianca crosses the threshold. That is when the real test begins and the true consequences are set in motion. But before that can even happen, we have to survive crossing the veil, numerous times most likely. Yes, we’ve crossed dozens of times—you don’t get the best antiques any other way—and we’ve been lucky. But luck can abandon you at the very worst moments.

“We have to start slowly,” Nico says, rubbing Taran’s back. “And Queen’s Law states that we must reveal the truth about ourselves before Bianca can enter the realm. So if she’s going to run, she’ll already have done it. That won’t be why she leaves.”

“No,” I growl hopelessly, “but leaving the realm of her father…” I’m not the only one who frowns deeply at that. Such a thing to ask of sweet Bianca.

I imagine it:Greetings, Fair Bianca. We know you’d like to be a princess and we have an opening—and we’re entirely captivated by you and prepared to worship the ground you walk on—but you have to embrace a life with monsters, who happen to have some interesting appendages and insatiable appetites to pleasure you in ways that may terrify you, or possibly change forever your perspective on the meaning of ecstasy. You’ll just have to leave your modern life, the civilization you know, and abandon your aging father forever. How does that sound?

I groan loudly.

“I did something,” Pennie states, his scales now reflecting the flames in the fireplace, though his inner flames often decorate his body.

“What did you do?” Taran asks, while I say the same words in an entirely less jubilant tone.

Pennie looks smug. “I suggest we move toward to the TV room and you’ll see for yourselves.”

My jaw isn’t the only one that drops.

Nico’s fur bristles and Taran leans away—Nico’s fragrances are entirely dependent on his moods. Cuddly scents bring Taran closer. Worried scents, angry scents, furious scents… well, the pungence is legendary. He can do combat without even raising a sword if he’s angry enough… what astench.

I wonder what Nico’s scent will be if he ever does fall in love. As cuddly as Nico and Taran are, they have never been intimate. Nico’s kind can only mate one being per lifetime, so choosing wisely is of paramount importance, but more than that, choosing wrongly brings death to anyone who isn’t his soul’s true mate.

I’ve certainly never envied that particular quality of his species. My own kind can mount anything that moves—or doesn’t—regardless of gender. When the rut begins, it’s a free for all and we experience satisfyingly mindless, feral, passionate, raging sexual conquests, at least we did before everything in our world was forced into a perpetual state of grief. Now, I mostly see to Taran’s needs, though Pennie is his preferred comfort. The idea of inflicting my brand of intercourse onto Bianca… it unsettles me to even imagine.

I realize the others are gaping at me and my immobility in the face of what would normally inspire great curiosity.

“Archie?” Taran says, his feathers fluttering from his uncertainty. “Are you not resolved about Bianca? We have to be together on this—we’re risking everything we have. I’m resolved, but you’re the ones who must cross the veil and bear the true risks, though being left behind,losingany of you… I’m not sure I could survive that.”

I move instantly toward Taran, kneeling before him and taking his lightly feathered hands in mine. Nothing in this world is softer or more soothing than a Taran’s touch, which is why they are hunted and captured, forbidden to live freely. The property of royalty—that’s their lot. But, after centuries of subjugation, Taran biology eventually adapted and they now have some control over their fates. Though they can’t legally live free, they can choose whether to give themselves fully to their owners and, if given the opportunity, can give themselves to someone other than the holder of their deed. That is why Tarans are fiercely guarded, in the hopes of winning their eventual surrender. But too often, hopeless Tarans exercise their other darker adaptation, the ability to end their lives with the plucking of one feather.

I shudder and Taran feels it.

“Tell me,” he whispers.

“I don’t want to lose you—I can’t. And you’re right. We can’t keep you safe. We’ve been lucky and that’s not a strategy.” I release a deep sigh. “I have not one doubt about lovely Bianca, only about my own worthiness to court her. If she wants the rest of you—and not me…” I scrunch my face, which with prominent tusks is a fright, I’m sure. “… with all my purpleness, hugeness, and frightening mating rituals—I will make it right. I’ll walk away. I’ll dowhateveris best for our family.”

Pennie, Nico, and Taran all protest, with all three saying accurately, “It’syourcastle!”

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