Page 75 of Beauty's Beast

“How much farther is it?” Kristine asked.

“Ulric said we would reach the wizard’s keep late tomorrow.”

“The mage will be able to help us,” Kristine said. “I know he will.”

Erik nodded.

“And then we’ll go home.” She forced a smile. “I want our daughter to be born at Hawksbridge.”

“My mother will be pleased.”

“We must send for her when we get home, Erik. She’s lonely at the convent.”

“She is at Hawksbridge already.”

“She is?”

“I went to see her. That’s how I knew where you had gone. I sent Chilton to fetch her home.” He let out a sigh. “It was wrong of me to send her away. Hawksbridge was her home long before it was mine.”

“She understood your reasons.”

“Promise you will take good care of her for me.”

“You will be able to do that yourself, soon.” She smiled up at him, though her eyes were sad. “The mage will be able to helpus. You must believe that. You must help me to believe,” she said with quiet desperation. “Oh, Erik, I cannot bear this any longer.”

“Kristine, don’t. I need you to be strong for me.”

“I’m sorry.” She wiped her eyes with a corner of her cloak, and then she smiled up at him, her eyes luminous with unshed tears. “We should go. The sooner we find the mage, the sooner this nightmare will be over.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

The River Onyx appeared as black as its name. Erik knew it was simply a trick of the light reflecting off the black stones that lined the bottom of the river; still, it was disconcerting to gaze at that murky ribbon of water and think of crossing it.

Though the water was only thigh-high, it ran swift. The horses balked at entering the dark water and only Erik’s firm hand, and the stallion’s trust, enabled him to lead Raven across the river. When he reached the far side, he went back for Misty. Fearing the mare might panic, Erik told Kristine to wait. In the end, he had to blindfold the mare to get her across the river.

He went back one more time to get Kristine. Lifting her in his arms to keep her from getting wet, he carried her to the other side.

Valaree and her family, in wolf form, swam across easily enough. Standing close together, they shook the water from their coats, then ran off toward the woods that edged this side of the Onyx.

“You’re cold,” Kristine said as Erik put her down.

“I’ll be all right. We’ll rest here a few minutes.”

“Are you hungry?”

Erik nodded.

“Me, too.” Delving into one of the saddlebags, she withdrew a loaf of brown bread and a square of yellow cheese.

Erik drew his knife and sliced the bread and cheese. It would satisfy his hunger, but what he craved was meat. Only days ago, he had insisted Valaree cook the venison she had offered him; now he found himself yearning for a hunk of meat that was raw and dripping with the juices of life. A part of his mind was disgusted by the mere idea of eating uncooked meat while another part, a part that was growing more dominant with each passing day, hungered for the taste.

“Erik?”

He glanced up to find Kristine staring at him. “What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

---