Page 1 of Beast and Remedy (The Last of the Heirs #2)
Will the Pain Ever End?
T wo hundred and six bones itch to fracture and transform back into the human form my body once knew. And through the splintering of my own self, the agonizing pain coupled with the harrowing screams never gets easier.
How stupidly mistaken I was in ever hoping that would be possible.
Despite everything I’ve learned, these last few years of dedication toward understanding this magic, I’m still left empty-handed. Reducing the need to shift, improving control over my abilities, and eliminating pain—nothing helps.
My blood pumps faster as I brace for the impact of change. Torturously, I wait, the impending paroxysm taunting me.
Some people may argue it’s miraculous to see everything from the perspective of another species.
It’s not.
Little do they know how suffocating it can be in this state.
To lose sense of your humanity, cave to the animalistic nature, and become something else entirely. To be a fierce protector of the woods, following the pull of my gifts.
I wish I couldn’t remember any of it. At least it would make it easier.
Magic hums in my chest, power thrumming in satisfaction.
The last three days of patrolling the forest, protecting creatures, and maintaining the hierarchy of beasts is the only allowance that will grant me a chance to shift back to my true self.
A reprieve from being a beast.
Fighting through the building emotions and trepidation, I inhale the rain, the cedar, and the wind one last time.
I may dislike shifting, but my stronger sense of smell has softened my disdain for the outdoors by helping me find some appreciation for the beauty and magnitude of nature.
A chilly breeze ruffles through my mahogany fur as my claws dig deep into the damp, soft soil, bracing against the ground as the first bone breaks.
A loud bellow escapes, echoing through the woods, and there is nothing I can do to stop the shift once it has started.
I can only be a victim to it.
Leander, the Deity of Beasts, used to roam the woods of Draymenk, ensuring every critter, mammal, and being who set foot in the forests— his forests—knew the ruler in their midst. But Leander is gone, far away from this world with the other Makers, waiting and watching as destiny chooses which new heir will inherit a fraction of their power.
A pop of my ribs steals my breath and a draft of copper stings the air.
The transformation crawls up my spine, stealing my angry thoughts as magic rearranges the arch of my back, the curve of my hips, and the swell of my breasts.
Air sweeps by, flesh meeting it, and my long, wavy red hair crosses over my face instead of fur.
The surging pain ripples up higher. It drives up to the crown of my head, yanking me back, my vision fraying. The roar I think will leave me transitions to a human scream as the remnants of the shifting process ebb.
My heart hammers in my throat, bile threatening to escape. Fighting my body’s reaction to the turmoil, I push against the cold soil, focusing on my breathing.
I imagine a fire caressing my skin, my fingertips rubbing paper with each page of a book I turn.
A bright light circles me, and muscled arms hold me tight against a solid chest. Golden irises, warm like honey, cross my mind—
My concentration breaks, and I lose control.
The nausea comes.
A cold sweat breaks out across my brow as I shudder and heave, exhaustion weighing me further into the ground.
It doesn’t matter that I’m naked and alone in the woods. All that matters is, despite my intelligence, I’m a failure in two things.
Reducing the pain of shifting and removing him from my memory.
I roll to my side and gather my knees as tremors course through me, spasms still lingering.
All I can do is breathe and wait for my heartbeat to regulate.
Slowly, I reach for the hidden clothing buried inside a tree hollow nearest me. This outfit is one of many I have dispersed throughout the forests of Belmur.
Pulling the bundle of clothes toward me, I pause on two dresses in the pile and bite back a gasp when her scent hits me.
Nutmeg, roses, and rotting wood.
Mama .
I clutch her dress tight, savoring these little things I still have left of her.
She was like me, a shifter at the whims of Leander, forced to patrol Draymenk. And I swore my sister and I had found all her hidden clothes since her death, but my heart swells at the discovery of this one.
On today of all days.
The day is memorable because she brought Marian and me into the world. We are twins, and I thought we were meant to share this gift, but the Makers deemed that burden should be cast on only one of us.
I inhale the moss clinging to the autumn season and lift my head up to the sun, peeking through the towering trees.
Memories of Mama flash in my mind, and I swear I can feel her holding my chin and tilting it higher, beyond the sky above, all so she can gaze upon me.
But her features blur away, and I note the location of the sun.
I release a long, forlorn sigh. I best get home if I want any bit of solitude before tonight.
A party.
Ugh . A ridiculous necessity.
One my sister asked for.
Gathering the fabric of my dress, I sit up and stretch before pulling it over and tugging it down my torso. I rise slowly, gripping the tree next to me, and recognize the grooves in its bark, my beast’s territorial markings.
Glancing at the massive paw prints stamped into the soil, I shake my head in disbelief at how large my other form is and the additional sign of claiming its place. I’m half tempted to cover my tracks with leaves but decide against it.
If my beast says this area is mine, then so be it.
I don’t have many things to claim as my own, other than what is in my room, my study, and the letters I keep hidden in a loose stone area in my chambers—
Nope. Stop thinking about him, Vi.
Deities, it’s been years since—
No! STOP it, Vi.
My hands fall away from the tree, and I dust the long red cotton dress, freeing it of any cobwebs, leaves, and dirt gathered while I ensure it covers me. I wiggle my toes, surprised when they sink a little further into the ground.
I let out a light laugh.
It’s always bittersweet to stand here, barefooted, despite the disgust I usually have for anything beyond the walls of my home.
Marian would be shocked.
Her realm has always been the outdoors, where mine has been within the castle walls, nestled into a comfortable chaise with a book telling me anything I wished to learn.
With the magic of the Makers coursing through me, and new shifting abilities that broke and recreated me, I had so much more to uncover. The thought drives one foot in front of the other, taking me closer to home.
I hasten my steps, and tiny fragments of architecture peek through the foliage.
Just a little farther, Vi.
Tall grass clings to the edges of the clearing as the castle comes into full view. And the last branch I push away snaps back, seeking to reprimand me for deserting the woods.
But I will be back. I always return.
Dark-gray stones stack high, angled and lined up with precision.
Belmur’s castle is a fortress, with turrets and battlements connecting each corner along the roof.
The arrow slits were designed for archers but are sealed with stained glass to match the rest of the tall, curved windows surrounding the lower levels.
The same breeze that followed and comforted me in the woods brushes my tresses out of my face as I pass the threshold, turning right for my quarters.
But when my father’s booming voice, accompanied by the softer tones of his two counselors echoes, I skirt for the spiraling stairwell, the stairs cold and a nice welcome as I hurry to my study.
I beam at the promise of my journals and glass vials as I push the door open and find my twin, Marian.
She sits at my cluttered desk, resting her feet on my pamphlets. All my pamphlets.
My grip tightens on the door latch, my temper clawing to the surface from the damage her dirty boots are doing to the precious documents.
My sister holds a small dagger Papa gave to her when we were younger. She squints, deep in concentration, spinning the knife on her fingertips and rocking on the chair’s back legs.
I cough, and she loses her balance.
She gasps as a loud thump echoes.
I panic, worry gripping my heart that her blade somehow plunged itself into her chest, and rush to her.
Her auburn shoulder-length hair stretches against the floor, full lips parted open, and she vacantly stares up to the ceiling.
I tilt my head, too afraid to even say anything as she lays there unmoving, frozen in a stupor.
The instant her rich-brown eyes flick to mine, she breaks out into a fit of laughter, holding herself and kicking her long legs up in joy.
My concern drains, and I cross my arms as she cackles at my expense.
“You should have seen your face!” Marian snickers, rolling on her side to rise. “You were all like, oh no! ” She sheathes the dagger she hid underneath her, grinning while meeting my scowl. “I couldn’t resist messing with you.”
I roll my eyes, my mood darkening. “You’re always messing with me.”
She elbows my side, and I wince, my body still recovering. “I take it your last experiment didn’t do much for you?” She grimaces, apologetic.
“Unfortunately not.” I bend and pick up the chair.
The shift itself was just as excruciating as the first time. And that first time…
Deities .
The phantom pain still haunts me and keeps me in my study more often than in my chambers.
Mama never wanted to teach us anything about her abilities, always saying it is different for each heir. How wrong she was.
“Was the pain more manageable this time?” Marian rests her hip against my desk, thoughtful and curious.
I organize the clutter on my worktable, sweeping the grime her shoes left off a few pamphlets, and noting the bread toward the back. “I think the elbow to my side was evidence enough.” I pick up the roll and take a bite, ignoring the dryness. “Anything happen while I was gone?”