Page 46 of Rescued By the Beast
"Yes?" Mark's voice sounds firm.
A woman opens the door but does not enter.
"Mr. Tharros, your nine o'clock appointment, Balthazar, is here."
"You can send him in in five minutes."
She nods and leaves.
"Good work," Mark says to the three men in the room. "Now, back to your posts."
Everyone leaves, and we are alone for just a moment when another knock echoes on the door. It opens, revealing a man with long, grey hair, whose age is unknown — he appears to be between thirty and sixty years old. The smell that accompanies him is unmistakable: a mixture of dried herbs and potions. Awizard. He carries a rectangular leather briefcase with metal locks.
"I brought your orders, Beast." He places the briefcase on the table and opens it. "The enchanted collar and the healing acceleration potion."
Oh, I had forgotten about the damn collar...
I thought I would have escaped by now!
Shock comes first, then anger. My fur bristles, and a low growl vibrates in my throat. But when the wizard opens the briefcase and takes the object out, my indignation is crushed by something worse: a cruel sense of irony.
Of course it had to be beautiful.
The black velvet ribbon is luxurious, soft, elegant. In the centre, a teardrop-shaped emerald sparkles in the light, reflecting deep shades of green. A sophisticated, classic piece, exactly the kind I would choose to wear around my neck.
If it were a simple choker, something I could take off whenever I wanted, I might even like it.
But it's not.
It is a collar.
And enchanted!
"The connection will be immediate. If she gets lost or is in danger, you will be able to sense her and find her." The wizard places the collar in the palm of his open hand. "But to complete the spell, I need you to drip a drop of your blood onto the stone."
No. No. No.
Stars, please help me!
"All right," Mark murmurs, then holds me with one arm while the other reaches out.
I see his black claws emerge, until he pierces his thumb with the tip of one of them and lets the tiny drop of blood touch the emerald. The stone absorbs the blood immediately, sparkling intensely, as if emanating its own light, before returning to its normal colour.
"Now just put the collar on her, and you're done." The wizard holds the edges of the ribbon, pulling it until it stretches beyond what it should, but without breaking. "It comes with a comfort spell included. All my products are created with shape-shifters in mind, they fit all sizes."
Mark murmurs in approval.
Oh, thank goodness. If I manage to transform back, I won't die strangled, but I don't want to get to that point.
I lash out in a frenzy of wild movements, writhing in his arms, arching my body, digging my teeth into his arm and scratching everything within reach with my claws in a desperate attempt to break free.
I won't wear a bloody collar!
My feline cry explodes, a sharp growl, as I fight against his firm grip. My rapid breathing makes my chest rise and fall as I struggle, my muscles trembling with the force of despair, but Mark doesn't give in, he doesn't even seem to feel the pain.
"What about the healing acceleration potion?" he says, unshaken, adjusting his hands and arms around my writhing and twisting body. "Do you guarantee that it works, even for non-supernatural beings?"
"Certainly, I imbued my own essence into it. For that reason, the price is higher." Balthazar picks up a tube, similar totoothpaste, and places it on the table. "It's in cream form, as you requested. Apply a thin layer to the wound, and you'll see results immediately."
