Beauty and the Beast (Demon Tales 1) by Kerrianne Coombes Page B

he was concerned.
    And because of her cowardice, she was back
in Tempath. Just great.
    The wooden door of the carriage flew open
and Cally turned her head to see one of her mother’s knight’s,
covered from head to toe in metal. He stood back, gave a low bow
and Cally forced herself to move. The air was crisp, but through
her heated skin she didn’t feel the cold. Her hands shook as she
gripped the handle. Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up, she
chanted in her head, desperate to hold onto her dignity for as long
as possible. She knew that the moment her mother had her in her
clutches, all dignity—along with her beloved, newly-growing horns
would be gone. She fought the urge to touch them, not wanting to
draw anyone’s eye.
    Cally lifted her head and caught the angry,
nose-flared glare from Torc. He was looking her way, clearly with
hate in mind. She swallowed and placed both feet on to the red
carpet laid out on the castle steps. Her head spun, and breath
stalled in her lungs. She had never felt more like a coward than at
this moment. What was going to happen to her now? She lifted her
gaze and saw her mother standing at the top of the stone steps with
a cruel smile on her nasty face.
    Cally had no friends, no allies. Any member
of staff who had shown sympathy for her over the years had found
themselves jobless—or worse. She was alone, in a world of evil. And
she had never felt so helpless, so utterly terrified. Damn Brigg
and his gentle touches and kind words, damn him for softening her
shell. She had learned through Brigg that not everyone was evil,
and because of him she had become weak. Why did he have to hurt her
too?
    “Callindra. The prodigal daughter arrives!”
Her mother laughed openly, with her head thrown back. Her eyes
glittered with suppressed rage. Cally tasted bile. “Who has been a
bad girl?” Her mother called from the top of the steps, a sneer
framing her lips as she eyed Cally with clear contempt. The king
stood to her left and a little behind her. The man wasn’t Cally’s
father. He was human, like her mother. He knew what Cally was—not
his—and therefore he held no love for her. “Come on, dear. Mummy
wants to have a word with you,” her mother called, with a fake
smile on her face that only meant one thing to Cally—violence.
Chills raced down Cally’s arms. Her mother looked like the cat that
got into the cream, and that thought froze Cally’s blood.
    Cally took a shaky step forward. A strong
hand came down on her arm and Cally looked up, startled. Torc
stared down at her, a deep frown on his face as he led her up the
stairs, closer to the queen.
    Cally stopped and Torc tugged her a little.
He gave an impatient glare.
    “Tell Brigg…Tell Brigg, thank you,” she
stuttered in a low whisper. Tears burned her eyes as she fought to
keep control. Torc flared his nostrils but gave a jerky nod. Cally
went to take another step, but Torc held her still, his dark eyes
boring into her, much as his brother’s once had. Cally stared up.
His eyes were a little lighter than Brigg’s, but no less kind.
Cally understood that Torc just was looking out for his brother.
She liked him for that. “Tell Brigg that I never tricked him. It
was all real.” She sniffed back surging tears and fought to
breathe. “At least, it was for me.” Her throat constricted and her
lungs heaved.
    “What’s going on here, Princess?” Torc
looked up the stairs to the queen and around the whole palace.
Knights stood in place up the stone steps. Flags flew in the wind,
but there was no sound, no excitement that the princess was
home.
    She could have told him there wouldn’t be.
She could have told him that she was unwanted and unloved. The
people of Tempath viewed her as stupid. They assumed she was
lacking in some way, because the queen had kept her from sight. She
had never been shown off as her brother had been. She had been
treated with cruelty and scorn, and the people of Tempath had
followed the queen’s