Page 33 of The Princess's Chosen

Bryony's knees dropped to the side, and her head whipped in my direction, eyes widening and skin pale. I turned my face to the ground, bowing as low as I could as if it could make up for my impertinence, and then stiffened as I heard the trembling breath, rattling wetly from her lips.

No order could've stopped me from marching forward, nothing but the lean of her body away from mine as I ducked down to the ground to try and catch her eyes.

"I don't want to deal with another man right now, Guard Stark," she said, biting down on my title to put me in my place.

I paused and then rolled my head on my shoulders, letting the prickle of my other skin rush up over me. I'd always wondered how the shifting magic worked, but the closest I'd come to an explanation in my own mind was that I stepped out of my man's skin and into another, easier than changing my clothes.

Bryony gasped as I transformed in front of her, but her shoulders drooped, tension bleeding away, and she hiccuped a weary giggle, her hands falling to her lap.

She didn't stop me as I padded closer, even though I was probably five times her size. She didn't stop me from nuzzling at her palms either, not understanding what I could read—the stench of Farraque still clinging to her—only laughing as I huffed and shook my beastly head, sitting back on my haunches.

"No, he didn't hurt me," she said softly, studying me. "I hurt myself by… I'm not sure where it started, really." She released a shaking sigh, and her hand trembled in the air between us until I ducked my head again and butted my ears against her fingers, encouraging her touch.

It was a little like cheating, getting her comfortable with me this way, but I didn't respond to her the way I would've as a man. I was safer for her, in this form. Better able to protect her, soothe her, listen to her confession. The only challenge was restraining my growl where it concerned Daniel Farraque.

"I might've hurt him too, and I haven't decided how I feel about that," she whispered, brow furrowing. She reached out for my paw, and it was strange to be examined this way, to have to sit patiently as she touched the rough pads of my toes, tapping her nail against a claw in absent curiosity.

"I will have to tell the others," she murmured, her breath starting to stutter again.

I grumbled, and she released my paw, scooting in closer and digging her fingers into the fur on my shoulders.

"I'm afraid I will turn into my sister. That the Hunger will never really be fed and I'll constantly be at the mercy of it."

I shifted back and forth, wanting badly to shift back into a man, to scoop Bryony up against my chest. Accidents happen, I wanted to say to her. Everyone makes a mistake. You've only slipped up this once.

And I still wanted to blame Daniel Farraque for it; I wassureshe was being too generous.

She was sniffling now, little squeaks of tears, and at least as a bear I was more immune to sharing her sorrow. I leaned toward her and let her sink against my massive side, careful not to put too much weight on her or accidentally scratch her. I caught her skirt with a claw, and she took it as invitation to climb over my legs and hide herself in the hunch of my frame. It was an odd feeling, the satisfaction of my man's brain meeting with the accepting but amused bear's perspective.

"I'm not really sure how much of this you understand right now," Bryony hiccuped.

All of it, I thought back at her.

"But I appreciate this. I'm just very tired. And my headache is mostly gone, and somehow that just makes it all a bit worse," Bryony continued. "As if I was being punished for not having sex for days and now I'm rewarded for fucking someone I don't even like."

I grunted, and Bryony went back to crying until the tears began to stutter and she grew heavier against me, and quieter, and eventually I realized she'd fallen asleep.

* * *

Cosmo stoodin the veranda doorway, hand over his heart and face sheet white. I could hear his racing pulse from here.

"Damnit, Cresswell, you nearly killed me," Cosmo gasped, yanking open the door.

Bryony was in my arms, face buried in brown fur, limp with exhaustion, and I didn't blame Cosmo for his initial terror.

"What's happened? Is she all right?" he whispered. "Sheissleeping isn't she?"

I grunted softly and nodded, lumbering awkwardly into the room, Cosmo rushing to protect his art from my overly large form while also keeping his eyes on the girl in my arms. I carried her to the couch on the far end of the room and set her down as carefully as I could, Cosmo joining me to catch her head and shoulders.

"You can't go roaming the halls like that. The guards might be used to Thao, but they won't expect a massive bear in the palace," Cosmo muttered and then looked up at me with narrowed eyes. "You…youareCresswell, aren't you?"

I grinned, and Cosmo flinched and squeezed between me and Bryony, sitting at her side as she started to stir. I finally eased down to all fours, wincing at the scratch of claw on tile, and headed out of the room.

IfI ran into a guard, I could shift back in the time it took them to find themselves shocked at the sight of me. And I had someone in particular I wanted to see at the moment. Anyway, I knew where everyone was stationed. I could make it, and as long as I didn't accidentally terrify one of the staff, it would be fine.

There was a small set of stairs leading up to the second story around the corner from Cosmo's studio room, and I was just barely able to squeeze up the narrow flight. The air in the palace was strange with this nose, prickly and full of the smells of humans. The prickling grew sharper the closer I moved to my destination. It must've been Bryony's magic, and just the thought of how it had ended up here, fresh and still soaking into the bricks, made me growl softly.

I found the hall of Daniel Farraque's rooms without incident. Bryony was in the air here, sweet and delicate, snapping with magic. His scent was stronger, thick and woodsy with salt and musk, I bared my teeth and let my paws drag along the floor, listened for the moment when the man in the room heard me coming. His movements paused and his breath stopped, but there was a bitter tang of stress coming from the open door, a tantalizing edge of fear.

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