Free The Beast by Lindsay Mead Page B

Squaring her shoulders, Belle hid away her insecurities and walked on.
    Men
. The thought hit Belle like a blast of cold air. There were humans in Vakre Fjell! All this time the world thought Vakre Fjell had been lost. Here was proof that not all Vakreins had fallen into sin. How many more were there? Why didn’t they come for help? Was her father here, and if so what did they do with him?

 

    I hid behind the tree line, my remaining wolves growling at my side. They’re hungry and frustrated that I held them back. Watching the soldiers march Belle toward the home of her new prey, I smiled.

    As they approached the castle steps, the immensity of the building was daunting. It made Belle feel so small—so squash-able. There were more soldiers guarding the entrance and a stable hand came to lead Charming away. Belle wanted to protest but instead kept silent as they escorted her inside.
    The ceilings were high, higher than even her cathedral’s. Her head tilted back in awe of the arched peaks. Her boots stepped from elaborate marble floors to lush red carpets. The walls in the entry hall were of the finest masonry with simple flourishes designed to turn the eyes upward.
    “Go tell General Kogsworthe another has arrived,” one of her escorts said to a waiting servant boy.
    Belle’s heartbeat quickened.
Another has arrived
. Someone else had come before Belle! It had to be Henri.
    With a nod, the boy turned and rushed down a long hall. Silence fell, but Belle’s mind screamed with relief. She glanced at her captors. They remained turned away from her. Almost as though they mistrusted the sight of her.
    While the chance was available, Belle swept her hand across the button at her hip. It unlatched and her skirts dropped, hanging to her ankles. One soldier looked back at her. She pretended not to notice his attention and smoothed her dress. She leaned forward, catching her reflection in a mirror. Her hair had fallen down in several places. She tucked back a strand or two, but there wasn’t much she could do to save it.
    Abruptly, the soldier behind her approached. Belle saw him coming in the mirror and made to move away. He grabbed her arm, preventing her retreat. Then, with his free hand, he worked at undoing the clasps at her shoulder. He watched her closely, his eyes glowering at every inch of her face. The buckle came loose and the knife harness slid from her chest. The soldier took the knives and harness and rolled them up, then haughtily tucked them beneath his shoulder. Only then did he move back to his previous position.
    An unbearable amount of time continued to pass in silence. Belle shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. It disturbed her that they did not take her cloak or offer her something to drink, some place to sit, while she waited. She had broken no law, but their treatment thus far made Belle feel less than welcome.
    A stout man eventually walked into the hall accompanied by the servant boy and two other soldiers. He had a full, brunette beard and hair cut short. His uniform was pristine, as were his many medals and symbols of rank. At his side was an officer’s sword that was not just for decoration. On his back was a white fur cloak edged in brown with no hood. The medallion holding the cape in place was a gold rose.
    General Kogsworthe, Belle presumed, had a stern demeanor. His movements were simple, precise. She straightened as he neared and didn’t blink or blush as he scrutinized her.
    “These were found on her person.” The soldier handed over her knives, guns, and sabre. “She carried a shotgun on her saddle, as well.”
    “Thank you. Dismissed.” General Kogsworthe’s voice was gravelly and harsh. He gave no other reaction.
    The soldiers left. A gust of cold wind raced in at their departure, tousling her loose locks and cloak. General Kogsworthe signaled for the soldiers he brought to flank Belle. With nothing more than a reproachful look, he began walking away.
    Guessing that he meant