Page 37 of Isabel and the Werewolf Beast

Dante

Ishoved open the castle door, muttering under my breath the entire time I stomped up the stairs. Why did my emotions go from one extreme to another with Isabel? I’d always been the level-headed older brother. The one who’d foraged for food. Stole food. Begged for food when I was desperate. The villagers never let me forget that. I don’t know why I’d clung to our former life after Asher bit me. I suppose there was some comfort in familiarity, but I was no longer comfortable going back to that life. To the cottage where our parents left us alone. To the village that hadn’t helped the starving children. Isabel might be the reason I didn’t want to goback to my lonely little cottage, but I couldn’t let her be the only reason.

Pausing at her bedroom door, I placed my ear against the timber and listened for the killer raven. Maybe I should have found something to cover my head. I glanced down the long hallway and spotted an ornate bowl. What was another priceless piece of art? Isabel would be angry but oh well…

I strode to the bowl and picked it up. The swirled colored glass would be an excellent protection for my head. Glasses would have been good too, but I didn’t see any of those lying around. I headed back to her bedroom door and flung it open before I changed my mind. I charged in like a bull. The raven swooped for my head with an ungodly squawk, but its beak tapped against the glass.

“I won, sucker,” I said, running across the room to Isabel’s dressing table.

The raven took that as an incentive to land on my back with its talon claws and ripped into my flesh. A howl of pain erupted from my lungs at the unexpected change of attack. I grabbed the box and ran for the door. The bird kept up its assault until the last second before I dove through the doorway and out into the hallway. I skidded to a stop heaving in fast breaths. The door shut behind me with the magic of the curse.

I couldn’t wait to get out of here, but first I made a detour to the library again and selected another armful of books for me and Isabel to read. It’d been nice having her lay beside me and read. I’d never had company before when reading. I finally felt accepted for who I was around Isabel. Even with her snarky attitude, she was never cruel to me, and considering she was supposed to kill werewolves, it made her treatment of me even more monumental. I thought so anyway. Whether she did was anothermatter.

As I approached the front door, it opened, I glanced around almost expecting to see a ghost-like Isabel inside because she hadn’t listened to me, but on the other side of the door, Isabel stood in the moonlight. A picture of beauty with her raven hair cascading down her back. Her pretty face turned up to the sky, and the stars twinkled in her eyes.

I wanted her so much that it hurt my chest.

She dropped her chin and watched me walk toward her. “I see you got more books too.”

“Of course,” I said, having to concentrate on each step so my knees didn’t collapse under me and then I’d crawl to her feet. Beg her to bite me again and suck my blood. A surge of desire ran through my body.

I held the box out to her. She grasped it in her dainty hands, a small smile playing across her lips.

“You forgot your hat.” She laughed.

I lifted a hand to my head and then joined her in laughter as I removed the glass bowl.

“Did it help?”

“Yes, until that killer bird of yours went for my back.”

“Show me.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Dante.” She tapped her fingers on the box.

I huffed and turned a fraction, so she’d see one of my clawed shoulders. They stung, but they’d heal. One perk of being a werewolf was our accelerated healing abilities.

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. The curse is that idiot Silas’s doing.”

“True. I hope you get to meet Nemisis one day without the curse.” She glanced down at the box. “It will probably be impossible but well, I’d like you to meet my pets.”

She peered up at me through her thick lashes and whatever anger I’d held about going inside to get the box vanished. If she looked at me like that, then she couldask me to do anything, and I’d lay my body at her feet. Her fingers worked on the box and a moment later a soft classical music song drifted from the object.

“What is it?” I asked.

“A jewelry box.”

My eyebrows rose. “You had me risk my eyes for jewelry?”

She drew out a long gold chain that had a shiny white stone pendant surrounded by an ornate swirl almost like a crest.

“It’s for you.” She closed the lid of the box and tucked it under her arm. The necklace dangled from her fingers and swayed catching the moonbeams on the pendant. “Will you wear it?”

“What is it?” I touched the pendant with my fingertip careful to not snag it on my claw. The stone drew me toward it for a reason I didn’t understand.

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