Beauty and the Alpha Beast

Summoned

*Bexley*

I sit up in bed and push my blankets down to my waist.

It’s my twenty-first birthday, and I now live in some crazy kingdom where the king sometimes sends out letters to girls on their twenty-first birthday summoning them to the castle so he can… well, no one knows exactly what he does with them.

I get dressed and go downstairs, and Mother is up already. She stands near the front window wringing her hands.

Her eyes are glued to the mailbox. “How long have you been standing here?”

The sound of my voice startles her. She clutches her heart and turns toward me. “Oh, Bexley. You’re awake. How did you sleep, dear?”

“Fine.”

“Good, good. I’ve just been standing here for a few moments. Do you think it will rain today?”

“I don’t know,” I admit, going along with her story. “You didn’t see anyone deliver anything?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

“True, but Fiona said that this letter, if it’s coming, should be here first thing in the morning, and no one ever sees who delivers it.” I shrug.

Mother inhales deeply, her bottom lip shaking slightly. “Perhaps we should check then.”

“Oh, Mother.” I place my hand gently on her shoulder. For so many years, we only had one another.

She wraps her arms around me. “I love you so much, Bexley. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I kiss her cheek. “You’ll always have me,’ I promise her.

When she looks at me again, she has tears in her eyes. She nods. “I know, baby. Now, why don’t you go see if there’s anything in that mailbox?”

“Sure.” I slip my cloak into place and clasp it. My hands shake slightly as I reach for the doorknob and step outside.

When I get to the mailbox, Mother lifts a hand to wave at me through the window.

I‘m downright terrified.

“It’s empty,” I whisper as I grab the door lever and pull it down hard.

Only… it’s not empty.

My mouth drops open in a silent gasp as I stare at the red envelope tucked inside of the mailbox.

It’s large, weighty. Imposing. I can tell that before I even touch it.

I’m afraid to touch it.

In gold ink, a name is written. The script is fancy, with lots of curls, such that I can barely read it at an angle. I reach in and slide it out.

“Bexley Kessler” it reads.

“Well, at least the king knows that Harvey isn’t my father.”

Mother comes running. “Is it—”

“I believe so.”

Mother takes the letter from my hand and carries it inside. Mrs. Jones is awake now.

Mother sinks down on the sofa but offers me the letter. “You should do it.”

I sit on the edge of the cushion next to her and slide my finger under the seal. The letter is beautiful, and it seems a shame to tear it up. The flap gives, revealing a sheet of thick white paper with embossed print.

“Miss Bexley Kessler, you are hereby summoned to meet with your king, His Royal Highness Canaan Zephyr, this evening at seven o’clock. A carriage shall arrive to retrieve you at six o’clock. As your stay will be at least one night, possibly more, pack accordingly.” The bottom of the letter is signed Lawrence Wood, Esq.

“Who is Lawrence Wood?” I ask my mother.

She shakes her head, her eyes still brimming with tears as if I’ve received a death sentence. “I have no idea, but he seems important.”

I suppose the esquire part tells us that.

“He is the king’s top legal advisor,” Harvey says, marching down the stairs in a neatly tied robe.

“Mrs. Jones, coffee, please.”

The housekeeper scurries off, and I can tell she’s upset.

“This ruins everything,” he mutters. “Now, Garth will have no use for you.”

Mother, though tentative, leaps into protective mode. “We don’t know that,” she says. “He’s quite fond of her.”

I stop the laugh that threatens to explode from my throat. He doesn’t even call me by my real first name.

Mrs. Jones returns with coffee.

“What if she simply doesn’t go?” Harvey asks. “What if we send her back to Hexeton for a week or so to stay with her grandparents?”

“Won’t that just upset the king?” Mother asks.

Harvey shrugs. “I doubt the king actually knows which women to expect. He’s probably just waiting in his bedroom for someone. Surely, more than one girl in the kingdom turns twenty-one today.”

“I have to go.” My voice is just a whisper, but they both turn and look at me.

“You want to go?” Harvey glares at me.

I shake my head. “No, but I have a feeling the king will find a way to make sure I’m there, from what Fiona said.”

“Psh! Fiona! That girl is as daft as you are,” Harvey says. “This will ruin everything.” He sets his coffee down and flees the room, still muttering under his breath.

Mother reaches over and takes my hand. “He didn’t mean that.”

“I’m going to go outside for a bit.”

She nods with tears threatening to fall again.

Walking to the forest’s edge, I’m just beginning to wonder about meeting the king when I see a pair of eyes staring at me from between the hedges. Golden and glowing, they’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, and it takes my breath away.

This creature, whatever it is, is looking at me the same way a human would, as if it’s trying to figure me out.

Part of me says this is a predator, and I should turn and run, but the rest of me is curious.

“Who are you?” I whisper, but my only answer is a distant howl.

***

At 5:45, I carry my suitcase down the stairs. Mother, Fiona, and Mrs. Jones stand there, tears in their eyes. I feel like a soldier being sent off to war. It’s silly, really. I’ll be fine.

I’ll be back tomorrow.

I remind my mother of that. “Don’t eat all the stew,” I say with a smile. “I’ll be wanting it for dinner tomorrow night.”

She can barely speak as she leans over and kisses my cheek. “I’ll… save some for you. I love you so much.”

Now, she’s making me tear up. “I love you, too, Mother.” I kiss her back. “It’ll be fine.”

“No one ever stays more than one night,” Fiona reminds us. “Really, it might be kind of nice to get to see the fancy castle.”

A sharp knock on the door has us all jumping. Mrs. Jones takes a deep breath and opens it to reveal—just Garth.

“I heard about the letter,” he says solemnly, shaking his head. Turning to me, he adds, “I wanted to come see you off, Becky.”

“Thank you.”

He and Harvey shake hands and begin to chat about hunting.

A clip-clopping sound has my stomach lurching into my throat. I peer out the window as Mother’s shaky hands position my cloak around my shoulders.

I see a carriage coming up the drive. It’s large and ornate. All of the neighbors come out of their houses and stand along the cobblestone road, trying to get a look. “They should’ve brought binoculars,” I mutter, feeling like a spectacle.

The carriage stops in front of our house, and a very regal looking man steps out. He’s wearing a suit with his dark hair slicked back. Massive shoulders and muscular arms tell me this man is no one to argue with.

“Is that him?” I whisper to Fiona. “Is that the king?”

“I don’t think so. No one ever sees the king anymore,” she mutters. “Not since he was the prince.”

I don’t know what that means, and I don’t have time to ask. A footman accompanies the gentleman to the door and knocks for him. My palms are sweaty as I turn the knob and pull it open.

A smile lights his handsome face, his green eyes gleaming. “Miss Bexley Kessler?”

All I can do is nod my head.

He bows a bit as he says, “I’m Ellison Lake, here to accompany you to the castle.” He seems polite and kind, and with such empathy in his eyes, I’m inclined to step forward.

Garth steps forward instead, nearly knocking me into the wall. “And just who may you be?”

Mr. Lake is a bit taller than Garth. He clears his throat, but his charming disposition doesn’t waiver. “I’m an advisor to the king,” he says with a smile. “And you are?”

Garth tentatively shakes Mr. Lake’s hand. “I’m Garth Roberts, Becky’s betrothed.”

My eyes bulge, and my stomach twists into a knot. I hear my mother gasp behind me, and Harvey chuckles low in his throat as if he thinks Garth’s claim will prevent the king from taking me away.

Mr. Lake’s forehead crinkles as he looks at me. “We have no record of any upcoming nuptials at the castle.”

All I can do is shake my head slightly, and I get the feeling that, somehow, Mr. Lake understands what I am thinking.

“Well, that’s simply because we only became engaged last night,” Garth replies.

Mr. Lake takes my suitcase from my hand. “I see. Well, I’m afraid anything that hasn’t been filed with the proper authorities won’t prevent Miss Kessler’s visit to the castle.”

“But… the king cannot possibly expect for me to make her my bride after he… defiles her!” Garth spits.

Horror washes over me as I wait for Mr. Lake to throw the first punch in defense of the king.

Clearing his throat, Mr. Lake says, “I’m sure you’ve heard rumors about what happens in the castle, but I can assure all of you that no defiling is about to happen.” When his eyes reach mine, they are full of warmth and understanding.

“You expect us to believe that?” Garth asks.

“I honestly couldn’t care less what you believe.” Mr. Lake is beginning to lose his patience.

“Now, Miss Kessler, if you’ve said your goodbyes, let us be on our way.”

Mr. Lake offers his arm, and I take it.

Garth follows us onto the porch. “This isn’t right, you know! Does he understand what everyone is saying about him? That he’s a perverted, egotistical—”

“Garth!” Harvey steps in as I feel Mr. Lake’s arm tense under my hand. “Please. You mustn’t speak ill of the king.”

Rather than turn around and pound him in the face, Mr. Lake simply keeps walking.

I turn my head to see my mother and Fiona weeping and waving. I lift a hand and manage a smile.

“In we go,” Mr. Lake says, handing my suitcase to one of the footmen. I sit on one side, and he manages to fold himself through the narrow door and take a seat across from me.

I run my hands over the plush velvet seat. It’s a rich blue that practically screams royalty. Ornate gold scrollwork climbs the walls. It’s beautiful and comfortable in here. Even with the large stranger sitting across from me, I feel safe.

A moment later, the carriage begins to move.

“I apologize,” Mr. Lake says, drawing my attention to his warm eyes again. “This is never easy. I try to avoid it when I can.”

I nod. “I’m sorry—about Garth,” I stutter. “My parents fully support the crown.”

A crooked smile pulls at one side of his mouth. “A lot of people question the crown these days.

You will get the opportunity to see why. However, I’m afraid it won’t last long. When you leave, whenever that is, you won’t remember what you’ve experienced at the castle.”

A chill runs the length of my spine. “How is that possible?”

His smile broadens. “We have our ways.”

“Does it hurt?”

He chuckles, a soothing baritone that calms me instantly. “No. Nothing painful or uncomfortable will happen to you. Well, not physically anyway. What do you like to do in your free time, Miss Kessler?”

He’s trying to set me at ease, and I appreciate it. “I like animals,” I tell him, and he nods as if he somehow already knew that. “I like to observe them. To study them.”

“Interesting, and do you think you might make a career out of that one day?” Unlike Garth, he seems genuinely interested.

I shrug. “I’d like to, but my stepfather has me working in his firm more and more recently. But I would prefer to be outside.”

“And your betrothed?” He says the word like we both understand that’s not what Garth is. “What does he do?”

I shake my head. “Other than call me by the wrong name?”

Mr. Lake chuckles again.

“He is a local hunter and also owns a farm and some other businesses. I’ve only met him a few times.”

He nods in understanding. “He seems close with Mr. Moss.”

“Mr. Moss would like for him to be.” I briefly wonder about the king. “I haven’t lived here long, well, about a year, but most of the villagers have grown up together, attending the same schools and such. I have struggled to make friends. Other than Fiona.” He continues to nod as I talk about how we moved to Luna Hollow because my mother met Harvey through a mutual friend.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Lake,” I say after a while. “I shouldn’t be rambling on.”

“Please, call me Ellison,” he says in that casual tone. “And you’re not rambling. Tell me more about Hexeton.”