Chpt 5

5

 

After three days of non-stop traveling and trades, Philip Lamar was tired and ready to return home. One more stop and he would head to the train station. But first things first, he had to make sure he returned home with something, or else he would never hear the end of it from his daughters.

“This must be it,” Phil mumbled to himself as he came to a fork in the road. “I have to take the right trail… that’s what the man said,” he said aloud, and his gaze went to the dark trail in front of him, which was surrounded by a thick forest. Then he looked at the map he held in his hand. If he took the word of the merchant that sold him the map, all Philip had to do was make his way up the long and twisted trail and he would find an old and worn down shack. One he reached the shack, he would have to walk over to the side of the rundown building and locate the doors to the basement. There he would find treasure too valuable to pass up… or so he had been told.

“But beware of the Beast that guards the treasure. For he is mean, nasty, and in need of a good meal.”

That had been the merchant’s warning as he handed Philip the old map, a warning that he had openly laughed at. As he made his way around the old and small town, the more he studied the map, the more interested he became. Every towns person he came across and asked about the treasure and the monster that guarded it either pretended they had no clue what he was talking about or became eerily quiet and nervous before quickly excusing themselves from his presence. Their reactions instantly spiked his curiosity, and the explorer in him had to find out if what the merchant said was true and if there actually was some evil beast lurking around.

What exactly are they hiding up there?

He didn’t know, but he was going to find out. Hopefully it was something worthwhile, something far better than the gift his Beauty had asked him for.

“I don’t want anything, Daddy, but if you insist, bring me some roses as beautiful as the one around my neck.”

“Roses? Can’t you just go and buy some from a florist?”

“I could, but there is nothing more beautiful than the life of a wild rose, its beauty untamed and natural.”

“Very well, I will see what I can do.”

“Thank you, Daddy,”

Remembering the conversation he had with his daughter over the phone during his train ride, Phil tried to pretend the sad tone of her voice didn’t affect him as much as it did. He was fed up with seeing his daughter hurt; every time he saw her his heart broke, and there was nothing he could do about it. As much as he might have wanted to gut her ex like the pig he was, Phil wouldn’t do that. Killing the ex would just satisfy Phil’s need for vengeance and keep Beauty from healing as she should.

He could already see it. Her ex dead and her father in cuffs as Beauty blamed herself for what happened. She was so sensitive sometimes; there was no doubt that her grief and guilt would drive her mad and cause her to do something drastic and stupid.

That was something he would never let happen. She had been through so much already that all he wanted was the smile to return to her face, for that passion and spark of life to light up her eyes like they used to.

Phil looked at the road before him.

Treasure, huh…

If treasure were truly buried underneath that shack, he would find it... something better than some plain old’ roses. A gift deserving of his Beauty.

“Time to get moving.” Looking to the sky, he watched as the moon’s light slowly moved around the top of the forest trees to shine its light on the dark path in front of him.

“Guess, I can take that as a sign,” Phil said as he folded the map into a small square and stuffed it back in his jacket pocket. Picking up his backpack, which was filled with his tools, he began his long and tiring hike up the trail.

Shouldering his bag, he pulled his iPod out of the front pocket of his pants. Slightly weirded out by the eerie silence of the forest and the sudden uneasiness creeping along his spine, he put his headphones in his ears. As he walked, he skimmed through his playlist until he found his favorite tunes. Then he turned the volume up as loud as he could, hoping to drown out the silence of the forest.

How long he walked, he didn’t know. How far he walked, he had no clue. All he knew was that the path he was on was never ending. Continually surrounded by thickening forest trees, his uneasy was steadily growing. Add to that the light of the moon had disappeared back behind the forest trees and he had to use the flashlight he kept in his bag for light, he was more than tempted to turn around and head back into town.

However, there was one major problem… each and every time Phil turned around to look back at how far he’d come, the path was gone and in its place tree after thick forest tree. At first, panic had washed over him, and he monetarily questioned his sanity. After a while, he became too tired to care. All he wanted was a warm bed and somewhere he could rest his sore feet. A part of him actually thought that he would rather be eaten by the creature he had heard about than to keep walking a never-ending path of darkness.

It wasn’t until he saw the top of the large and looming iron gates off in the distance that some type of hope formed in his chest. Pushing his drained body, Phil picked up his pace as the thought of finding help restored his energy.

The closer he came to the old gates, the larger and more menacing they became. Trepidation replaced excitement, and he staggered in his steps. Phil’s gaze went beyond the old and rusted gates to the castle that sat behind them.  This time his heart stopped beating for several seconds. If the gates put fear into him, then the dark castle that seemed to reach the heavens petrified him. On top the castle peaks sat devilish looking gargoyles, whose demonic expressions dared would be trespassers to step foot into their world and risk being food for the monster’s that lurked in the darkness.

 He took several steps back and turned to run and was quickly reminded that he could no longer go back the way he’d come. Dense forest blocked his path, leaving him with no choice but to move forward.

Taking a deep breath and saying a silent prayer for courage, Phil walked back up to the iron gates. Obviously, the merchant had lied to him about some old shack being in the forest. He just didn’t understand why, and he swore if he ever saw that merchant again, Phil would put his foot so far down the man’s throat that if he bent over Phil’s toes would be hanging out the man’s a*s.

Even so, he couldn’t help but wonder what was truly behind the gate and if some twisted monster really roamed the halls of the castle. Grabbing the bars of the gate, Phil pushed it open enough so he could easily slip between the bars. A little voice in the back of his mind told him to run, to take his chances with the forest and get as far away from there as he could. It was a voice he ignored as he continued across the courtyard.

Before he could reach the castle, a soft crimson light off to the side caught his attention.

What was that?

The castle forgotten, Phil turned and headed in the direction of the light. Drawn to its beauty, he followed a small path that wound around the side of the castle and stopped at another iron gate. Except, unlike the first gate, this one was much smaller and covered by thick vines with extremely sharp-looking thorns that seemed to stretch endlessly around the iron bars. Behind the gate, the crimson light glowed brighter, illuminating a large flower garden.

“The things I do for you,” Phil grumbled. While he wasn’t too keen on wandering around a strange flower garden, he would do anything for Beauty. Not to mention, that eerie yellow light seemed to beckon him.

Taking several deeper breaths, Phil pushed the garden gates open and stepped inside, careful not to take his eye out on one of the vines’ sharp thorns. He didn’t know what he expected to find, something like a patch of half-dead roses or maybe a valley full of uncut grass. What he didn’t expect was to be left speechless. He could do nothing but stare at the magnificent beauty of the rose garden in front of him. Following the trail, he took in the various colors of the roses. Regular red roses lined the front of the garden, but as he made his way farther into the garden, different colors greeted him. Darker reds, beautiful blues, pure whites, enticing purples, and every imaginable color bloomed beautifully in the garden.

“Impossible,” he whispered in awe. Never had he seen so many colors of roses nor known that so many existed. Yet there was no denying what he was seeing. Stepping off the trail, he walked into a patch of deep purple roses. Kneeling down, he brushed his fingertips gently across the rose’s large and soft petals, infatuated by the size of the flower and it blooming petals.

“Who created these?”

Because there was no way these were natural roses.

“Sonya would love these.”

Putting his bag down beside him, he rummaged through it until he found a pair of sharp scissors. Not his normal flower-cutting tool but it would do for the moment. Besides, judging from the thickness of the flower’s stem, he doubted it mattered what he used to cut it. Nothing would damage it.

Snipping the rose at the base of the stem, Phil set it down beside him as he went about finding something to put it in. By some miracle, he was able to find a plastic bag that he had kept his lunch in earlier. Careful not to damage the rose’s petals, he slid it into the bag. He snipped several more roses before he stood and headed over to a patch of blue roses not too far from him. There, he cut several blue roses and eased them into the bag with the purple ones. He cut a rose of each color until he was sure his bag was going to burst.

“I think that’s enough,” he said as he wiped his brow and stood. “She will be thrilled with these.” Content with his roses, Phil began to make his way out of the garden. Just as he reached the gate, the crimson light caught his attention again. Turning, he saw the light coming from the back of the garden.

“I should leave.” Even as he said the words, his feet were already taking him towards the light. Holding the roses he had just picked close, he walked deeper into the garden, the light leading him to where he needed to be. When he reached the source of the light, he nearly dropped his bags. Before him sat the most beautiful roses he had ever seen. There in a patch of jet black roses were several mixed-color roses; their hues went from the deepest black at its base to the deepest and smoothest crimson he had ever seen. Larger than the ones he had picked, these roses seemed to glow with an enticing and vibrant light. Dropping to his knees, Phil placed his large bouquet of roses down beside him along with his backpack. Grabbing his scissors, he reached for the rose.

The moment he touched the rose a chill went down his spine, and warning bells went off in his head. Yet he couldn’t walk away from such a rare opportunity.

“Forgive me,” he told the flower, and then he cut it at the base of the stem, careful not to bruise its large and beautiful petals. Holding up the rose, he couldn’t help but smile.

This is a rose prefect for my lovely Beauty…

As he went about cutting several black roses to compliment the one he had just cut, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had just committed some disastrous crime.

 

Camren couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Either his brother had finally lost his mind, or he had found the woman that could save them both. Since Camren had only known his brother to be foolish when it came to Cassandra, Camren doubted his brother had lost his marbles.

Although as Camren watched his brother’s twisted form pace the room, Camren reconsidered his last thought. However, regardless of his brother’s erratic action, he was quite sane. So that only left the fact that he had indeed found her.

As Jacks continued to rumble on and on in time with his feverish pacing, Camren couldn’t help but share in his brother’s excitement from the sofa. Finally, they would be free and could resume their normal lives.

For a moment, Camren couldn’t help but think that while their prayers had been answered, the real problems were just beginning. In his head, he might have gotten used to his brother’s appearance, but Camren couldn’t imagine a woman’s reaction to his brother. It had taken Camren years before the urge to run when he was in the same room with his brother faded.

Standing well over six feet tall, almost seven feet, his brother’s appearance was not something any normal person could stomach. His powerful legs were better built to support the weight of an ox.

Cassandra had definitely made his brother more beast than man. S**t, other than the crazy witch, there had never been another woman to lay eyes on his brother since his transformation. Even so, Camren doubted any woman would willingly give herself to a creature that looked like his brother… unless she was some twisted witch who enjoyed others’ pain.

Speaking of twisted witches, Cassandra was another problem for them. There was no way she would take this lying down. In fact, Camren wouldn’t be surprised if she tried to kill the woman the moment after discovering her identity.

Camren doubted the woman his brother kept talking about was anything like Cassandra, and if the mystery woman was, his brother was better off the way he was.

“Do you want me to find her?”

Thanks to Cassandra’s hold over him, it had been a long time since Camren had last used his powers, and an even longer time since he had used them to track someone. But for his brother, Camren would risk her wrath if it got him one step closer to freedom.

“Of cour�"” Jacks stopped mid-sentence, his head titling to one side as if someone had whispered in his ear.

“What is it?” Camren asked with a raised brow.

“We have a guest,” his brother said darkly as his yellow eyes narrowed into tiny slits.

“A guest?” Such news caught Camren off guard. From the moment his brother had been cursed, their castle had been surrounded by a strong magical barrier. As much as Camren hated to admit it, Cassandra had played her hand well, creating a beautiful cage that offered no hope for salvation.

Intrigued, Camren stood from his seat. “I’ll go and check it out.” Walking towards the doors of the room, he waved a dismissive hand at his brother when he started following. “Stay here and figure out your next step.”

With that, Camren walked out of the room with the gut feeling that the moment he went outside the world as he knew it would change. And he had been right. When he appeared in the flower garden, he felt as if his heart had been ripped from his chest. All around him he could see the broken petals of roses stepped on by the intruders, some had even been horribly cut and stolen from their home.

Instant rage washed over Camren, and he struggled to hold on to his sanity as he continued his investigation. The one place that had offered him solace had been destroyed.

“Who did this to you?” he asked as he kneeled down and gently brushed his fingertips across the petals of a white rose. As if to tell him who was responsible for their pain, a light came from the back of the rose garden.

Camren was on his feet and storming his way towards the back garden before he could take his next breath. What he saw left hate and rage so profound that his vision turned completely red and the need for blood consumed him.

“Human.” His voice had dropped to a dangerously low level. He watched the intruder jump and face him with surprised eyes. “Do you think you can just come into someone else’s home and take what you want?” Camren spat, his gaze going to the bag that rested at the male’s feet and then to the rose in his hand. Cut from their beautiful resting place, the roses that his parents had planted before they died, the only thing he and his brother had left of them, lay in a plastic bag. Before he knew it, he had the man by the collar of his jacket, lifting him off his feet.

“Please… I�"”

No matter how much the man pleaded or tried to get away, he wouldn’t go anywhere until Camren said so.

“Shut up!” Camren growled, sounding more beastly than his brother. He brought the man’s face close. While he didn’t look it, Camren could tell the man was in his early fifties, and Camren was more than happy to take away what years the man had left.

“Do you know what you’ve done?”

Slowly the man shook his head, causing Camren to become even more unstable.

With a menacing grin spread across his face, he said, “Then let me show you.”

Author's Note

I hope you enjoyed these five chapters from Seducing the Black Prince.

As you can tell this is my re-telling of Beauty and the Beast. The entire book is available for Free on Smashwords and .99 cents on Amazon and Barns and Noble.

Please leave your reviews and comments below, thank you :)