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Jay Stacey - Of Beast and Beauty Of Beast and Beauty

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Фантастика и фэнтези

Детективы и триллеры

Проза

Любовные романы

Приключения

Детские

Поэзия и драматургия

Старинная литература

Научно-образовательная

Компьютеры и интернет

Справочная литература

Документальная литература

Религия и духовность

Юмор

Дом и семья

Деловая литература

Жанр не определен

Техника

Прочее

Драматургия

Фольклор

Военное дело

Последние комментарии
оксана2018-11-27
Вообще, я больше люблю новинки литератур
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Professor2018-11-27
Очень понравилась книга. Рекомендую!
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Vera.Li2016-02-21
Миленько и простенько, без всяких интриг
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ст.ст.2018-05-15
 И что это было?
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Наталья222018-11-27
Сюжет захватывающий. Все-таки читать кни
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Of Beast and Beauty - Jay Stacey - Страница 7


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my dress, and I shoved her away, pricking my fingers on the sharps in her

apron in the process.

Strangely, the pain calmed me. Needle’s gentle touch, her hands like

birds alighting on my head, my shoulder, my cheek, communicating

concern with every cool brush across my skin, calmed me more. She was

only fifteen, but her touch reminded me of my mama’s. I let her stay, when

I’d sent every other companion away.

I’m surprised to find I want her now. I would very much like to have

Needle’s slim fingers under mine, making the signs for “Calm down” and

“We’ll sort this out.” I didn’t think I was afraid of anything, but now I am.

I’m afraid.

My fingers tremble as I touch the torn flesh at my shoulder. I don’t

feel the poison yet, but I could. At any moment. I try to swallow, but my

throat is too tight. I don’t want to die. Not like this. It’s not fair! I’ve lived

with Death hovering on my shoulder my entire life, but I never—

“Should I carry you, Princess?” The soldier’s hand warms the small of

my back. My spine ripples as I twist away. His touch is foreign, unexpected,

too strange after the night I’ve had.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t …” The soldier clears his throat. “I was

wounded as well.”

“You were?”

“The Monstrous tore the skin at my leg.” He sounds younger than he

did before. Scared.

I reach out, brushing his shoulder with my hand, surprised to find

that my arm is parallel to the ground. The soldier is nearly my size, shorter

only by a bit. “Thank you. For helping me.”

“Please, don’t thank me.” His hand finds the small of my back again,

settling over the knobby bones of my spine. The warmth of him—cooler

than the Monstrous but warmer than me, in my sweat-damp

clothes—heats my hips. My stomach. My chest. “It was a privilege to

defend the life of our queen.”

“I’m not—” Before I realize what’s happening, soft, hot skin presses

against my half-open mouth. I flinch, but the soldier’s hand at my back

holds me still as his lips move against mine, as his tongue flicks out, bidding

a cautious hello.

A kiss. This is a kiss. It is … slipperier than I’d imagined. His tongue

is …

A tongue? Who would have thought?

A part of me wants to laugh at this soldier and the jabs of the slick

muscle invading my mouth, but another part of me is … fluttering.

Something stirs inside me. Something urges me to tilt my head and move

my lips, to dart my own tongue out—quick as a wink—for a taste.

Salty. Sweet. Hint of cabbage. Something familiar in the midst of all

the unfamiliar feelings that are making my skin warm and my insides as hot

as the Monstrous man’s flesh.

I pull back, heart beating too fast. “We should go to the cells. The

monster might have revealed the cure.”

“We should, but if we die tonight, I—”

“No one’s going to die,” I say with more confidence than I feel.

“Come with me.” I start down the path, but stop after only a few steps. I’ve

never been to the cells. I’ve never dared go that deep into the city proper.

I hold out a hand. “Guide me. Hurry.”

“Yes, my lady.” A second later, his arm is under mine. It’s strong and

densely muscled, but the bare skin at his wrist is as soft as all the skin I’ve

felt in my life. Much, much softer than mine. This soldier is a whole citizen

of Yuan.

So why did he kiss me? A tainted girl, too tall and too wide, with skin

peeling from the chest down in a frustrated attempt to reveal the scales

that lurk beneath the surface? I’m obviously not sufficiently tainted to be

sent to the Banished camp, but even the slightest sign of mutation is

reviled. From what I’ve overheard, a whole citizen would rather die than

marry someone with Monstrous features, no matter how mildly they might

manifest.

He’s hardly thinking marriage. He’s thinking he’s going to die and

yours might be the final lips he encounters.

The thought banishes the last of the tingling sensation from my body,

expelling it like a fish bone. I lift my chin, holding my head high as we move

swiftly toward the city proper. I do my best not to think about dying with

the taste of this stranger on my lips.

Dying. If I’m dying, I’ll never get the chance to tell my father that I

have dreams that live outside the tower, to confess how much I need

something … more. Tears fill my eyes, but I don’t cry. I sip in a breath and

hold the air in my lungs.

The soldier pats my rough hand with his softer one. “My name is Bo.

I’ll stay with you until the healers come. My father would want that.”

“Your father?”

“Junjie,” he says, his voice dipping and sliding on the last part. That’s

why he sounds familiar. Junjie’s son. “My father’s spoken of me?”

“No. I didn’t know he had a son.”

“Oh.” The word is a stone plunking sadly into the water.

“But he doesn’t speak to me often,” I say, feeling a little sorry,

despite my fear and the shame still lingering on my lips. “Most of the time

he’s only at the tower to steal my father away on business.”

“Yes. The king … I …” He sighs, a pained sound that sets fretful things

stirring in my stomach.

“What about the king?”

“Nothing.” He walks faster. “Your wounds need treatment.”

“No. Tell me. What were you going to say?”

“I can’t,” he whispers. “Your health is the most important thing.”

“I feel fine.” I do. The scratches still sting, but the feverish sensation

is gone. I’m no healer, but it doesn’t feel as if there’s poison in my blood. It

makes me wonder …

Has my slight mutation made me immune to the creature’s venom,

or … could the texts about the poison in Monstrous claws be wrong? Was

the Monstrous lying when he said I’d die without his help, saying whatever

he had to say in order to escape to the river?

“The river.” My hand tightens on Bo’s arm. “The Monstrous wanted

me to take him to the caverns where the underground river flows. That

must be how they—”

“We know,” he interrupts, making me sputter. I can’t remember the

last time I was interrupted. Have I ever been interrupted? “There were

three other creatures. Their hair was damp when we captured them. My

father guessed where they’d come from. There are guards in place now. No

more Monstrous will get into the city tonight.”

“Did you kill the others?” I ask, afraid to hear the answer. The

Monstrous are terrifying, but they also have language and pain. They aren’t

the complete savages Baba and Junjie have made them out to be. There’s a

chance we might be able to make peace with them.

“Not yet.” Even in those two small words, his bloodlust is clear.

“They speak our language,” I say gently. “They might not be as

savage as we’ve thought.”

Bo’s muscles flex beneath my hand. “They’re worse. They’re devils.”

“Devils or not, it doesn’t make sense to kill them if we don’t have to.

It will only make things worse for the city.” I think of the Monstrous man,

how he endured my fingers roaming his face. He could have killed me, but

he didn’t. He showed mercy. How can we do anything but offer the same?

“It will be up to you to decide, of course.” Bo’s voice is stiff. “My

queen.”

“Don’t call me that,” I snap, wishing I didn’t need his arm to guide

me. I’d prefer not to be touching this soldier anymore. “I’m not queen yet.”

“Yes, my lady,” he whispers. “You are.”

I am?

I … am.

The ground turns against me, and I trip over the raised edge of a