Page 13 of Omega and the Beast
She nodded, her eyes still bright with worry, but she did not ask to see him. Instead, softly, she said, “How strong you are, to suffer such a terrible curse without succumbing to it.”
He huffed out a breath that could have been a laugh if his mood were lighter. “If only it were mine alone. Don’t you see? It is everyone’s curse. All the village is affected, even you suffer it.”
“By believing the tales of the Beast in the woods,” she said sadly.
He shook his head. “I don’t mean that metaphorically. You are cursed, Callista. How long do you think the Beast has roamed the woods? How long do you think you’ve heard these tales?”
“All my life. Longer. I…” Her voice died away and her eyes rounded as she looked at him and saw a male near her own years. “Does the curse… keep you young?”
“No.”
“But that’s impossible! I remember! I… No, I know I do!”
“You do,” he agreed heavily. “But your memories are false. You remember only what Father Conal–” The word was a curse in his mouth. “—desires you to remember.”
He could see her struggling to accept that even as her own mind worked against her, and in the end, she shook her head.
“No. I’m sorry, but no! There have been sacrifices and those females are still gone! Females I knew! My childhood friend was one of them! Do not tell me I imagined Deirdre, that she’s nothing but a… a figment of that perverted priest’s imagination! He is incapable of imagining such goodness!”
Deirdre. He could not be surprised hearing that name in Callista’s mouth. She truly was his Omega, bringing all the threads of his life together.
“She’s real,” he agreed, almost smiling. “She was the first sacrifice.”
“No, there was a lottery. It was tradition. There were many before her. I remember… I…” Callista’s brows slowly knit. “I do remember! But… I can’t see their faces clearly. I don’t remember their names. I…” Slowly, wonderingly, she turned her eyes up to his. “I’m cursed?”
“As all the villagers are cursed, to hear the priest’s wordsand make them memories. I didn’t know either,” he admitted. “Not until Deirdre came to the castle.”
“How did she escape?” Callista wanted to know. “Sacrifices are bound to the Blood Tree. How could you come close enough to free her without…”
“Because she was bound,” Adonis said, his lips twisting at the thought of the evil priest inadvertently sabotaging his own efforts. “The Beast doesn’t want to be fed. It’s not a dog, to take scraps from his hand. It has to hunt. When I saw her, I was… repulsed by her captivity.”
“And you freed her.”
“Not intentionally, I must admit. The ropes angered the Beast, so the Beast ‘killed’ them. I bit and clawed, then prowled away when the ropes lay ‘dead’ on the ground. Deirdre fainted. With distance, some sliver of reason returned and Deirdre awakened. She stumbled away, but didn’t run, so the Beast couldn’t chase. And so I was able to follow her, to herd her to the castle, where I hoped she’d be able to lock a door against me until the night was done. She did, and in the morning, when I was… myself again, we were able to speak. It was only then that I learned about this ‘ancient’ lottery, and all the other lies Conal preached as truth. That she, you, everyone… had forgotten.”
“Forgotten… you?” Callista guessed.
“Me. My parents. The castle. That your village has always stood in our territory, protected by our family, by the Alpha and Omega he banished with his curse. Now he claims that Alphas and Omegas are the embodiments of sin, and you are all compelled to believe it, but I tell you, just ten years ago, your winter festivals were held in our halls! There was no priest’s tithe, and no sin in discovering one’s true nature!”
His voice had risen steadily, ending in a shout, and hehad to turn away to collect his thoughts and his temper, which had not cooled in all the time since learning this from Dierdre. He’d raged all that day and the next, terrifying the poor female. Now she was one of his closest friends, but at the time, she’d been half out of her wits with fear, whether he stood before her as Man or Beast. It had taken a long time to earn her trust after that bad beginning, but as more and more villagers had joined her – female sacrifices and male would-be Beast-slayers – their distance from the priest had weakened Conal’s influence over them, and they had come to know the truth.
Over time they’d learned the parameters of the curse.
If anyone left the castle at night, the Beast in him saw them as a threat and attempted to hunt them again. He had never killed one of his friends, but there were scars upon one of his protected to remind him not to rely upon the power of friendship to keep the Beast at bay. Mirkon claimed not to mind it, that every monster-hunter should have a few good scars, but Adonis still felt the pangs of guilt whenever he saw them, and Mirkon insisted upon short breeches and ankle boots. He wanted them seen, as a warning to newcomers: Remain in the castle, where it is safe.
“Are there many here?” Callista asked, looking around the bedchamber as if she expected them to pop up and wave.
“Quite a few, yes,” Adonis replied, marveling at it a bit himself.
They’d built up their own little community there—tending the gardens, doing the essential work of the castle, hunting during the day while Adonis remained inside, and eventually, falling in love and having children, as Deirdre and Mirkon had done. They’d even had a marriage of sorts,with Adonis presiding in place of a priest. He could not be happier for them, even as he was filled with envy.
“But why have none ever returned?” Callista wanted to know.
His reminiscing smile faded. “Several have tried. I thought at first they had succeeded… until their bodies were found, hung from the trees, torn…” He took a breath and let the rest go unsaid. “Clearly, Father Conal and those village leaders under his power aren’t willing to risk anyone countering their version of the ‘truth.’ Be assured, they were mourned and buried here, with respect and care.”
“That’s terrible!” Callista breathed, clutching a pillow to her chest, as a child might shield herself against the horrors of the night.
Adonis closed his own eyes. “Yes. It is.” Especially because he’d been unable to help with any of it until the others had gotten the bodies back to the castle. He’d dug the graves personally, as it was the only thing hecoulddo. That, and do all he could to convince any other restless guests not to return to their homes.
