The Boy and the Beast PART 1

Once upon a time, in a faraway land there lived a poor boy. His name was Ethan. He lived in Riquewihr, France. He lived with his single mother, Aubrey in an old dusty house that she had inherited from her father before he died. Ethan and Aubrey lived happily in their cozy town, and it seemed like everything was just right.

Ethan had many admirers. The young girls from his town would fan themselves whenever he would walk by. Ethan had blue striking eyes, and long strawberry blonde hair. When the wind was especially strong on some days, his hair would drift to the side, making him look like an angel. He was but a boy, 17 years of age, with strong limbs and muscles, and a breathtaking smile. 

There was one girl in particular, Grace, who was very fond of Ethan to the point she wanted to marry him. She had just turned 20, and her family decided that she should get a husband. Her family, and the people in the town thought they would make for such a lovely couple. 

Grace Louve was a lively girl, the perfect girl to say the least. She was beautiful yes, with emerald, green eyes, and long curly chestnut hair, and plump pink lips. She had many suitors, but none of them interested her like Ethan.

However fair she might have seemed, her insides were purely foul. She used to scoff at the people less fortunate than her, and only really cared about her status. She was nice, but in a nasty kind of way. She was always prideful of whatever she did, which made some people dislike her.

Ethan was unaware of Grace's intentions. He would wave to her occasionally, but that was about it. Ethan didn't care much about marriage. He wanted adventure; he wanted to explore new places. He wanted more than his provincial life.

One day, he was walking into town reading a book about swash buckling pirates, when he accidently bumped into Eloise, Grace's little sister. She stared at him with her big brown eyes.

''Are you the man my sister is supposed to marry?''

Ethan looked at her confused. ''Marry?''

Eloise shook her head her head vigorously. '''Yeah, my mom said it's going to be a big wedding, and that you are going to wear a fancy suit!''

Ethan just stared at the little girl. No one had told him that he would marry Grace. Sure, she was a pretty girl, but Ethan hadn't wanted to marry her. He had his whole life ahead of him, and he didn't want to waste it on a marriage.

Elosie continued talking. ''Grace has asked me if you accept her hand in marriage.''

Ethan shook his head. ''I am terribly sorry, but please tell your sister and your family, that I cannot accept Grace's hand in marriage.''

Eloise's smile fell. ''Okay.'' Then she proceeded to run away.

Ethan hoped he didn't come across as harsh, but that's the way he felt. There was more to life than just marriage.

He then proceeded to go back to his home. His mother was working on some new baked goods for an event in another town. She would be leaving tomorrow. 

As he neared his home, he could smell something baking. It smelled quite heavenly.

He got inside, shutting the door softly.

''Mama, I'm home.''

Aubrey came from the kitchen looking an absolute mess. Flour was in her hair, her apron had some grape jelly on it, and her hair typed in a messy bun. She looked tired, with bags underneath her eyes. Ethan could tell she was working all night.

''Oh, hello sweetie. Sorry if I look a mess, I've been baking all night!''

''Mama, you shouldn't have to work all night. You could have asked me to help you.''

Aubrey waved her hand dismissively at him. ''I didn't want to bother you sweetheart. You're young, and you shouldn't have to sit around baking. You should be off, doing what you heart desires most, adventuring. Speaking of which, look what I found in the basement.''

She reached on the stove and pulled out a thick black old moldy book. It was heavy as she put it in Ethan's hands and it felt very wet.

''What is this, Mama?''

''It was an old book from your grandfather. He gave it to me when I was a little girl, but I was never into books. I was more into the baking category.''

''What's it about?''

Aubrey chuckled. ''Well, I haven't read it, and it will be more exciting if you find out for yourself honey.''

Ethan quickly thanked his mom before running upstairs to his room. He laid on his bed and began to read.

The next morning came quickly, as Ethan had almost finished reading the book last night. He couldn't sleep because every time he tried to end the book, something exciting happened next. He didn't know that his grandfather was an explorer. And he wanted to be just like him.

He could hear his mother packing up the baked goods downstairs. He went down to help her.

''Morning Mama. Do you need any help?''

His mother didn't answer, instead she continued packing.

''MAMA!''

His mother turned around and gasped. ''Oh, I'm sorry dear, I didn't hear you, what did you say?''

''I asked you if you needed any help.''

His mother was about to protest saying that she didn't need help like she always did, until Ethan interrupted her.

''Mama, I know you need help, just let me help you. Besides, I have nothing left to do today, and you can't do all the work yourself.''

Aubrey eventually gave up with trying to convince him not to help her. She liked that about her son, he was persistent, and he always wanted to help her. Just like his father. 

''Well, you can start by putting those bags in the wagon outside. And be very gentle with them, I don't want my precious goods to get smooshed.''

Ethan nodded and gingerly took the bags outside and put it in the wagon. He petted Ms. Mainly, the horse his mother had bought from an auction sale. She would be pulling the wagon.

Eventually, everything was packed, and his mother was ready to go. She grabbed a few layers, and some food from the pantry before coming outside. 

She kissed Ethan on the cheek and said, ''Well sweetie, I shall be off now. Be a good boy, and stay out of trouble you hear? But why do I need to say that you're already a good lad.''

She lightly smacked Mrs. Mainley's side and started off. Ethan waved goodbye, already missing his mother's presence. 

Meanwhile, at the Louve's home, Grace was furious. She couldn't believe that the handsomest boy in town, had just rejected her love. She was the prettiest, and the most ladylike. Why would he not like her?

Sitting in the living room with her parents, and little sister, she told them of her troubles. She thought there was nothing she couldn't do about it. 

Until her father got an idea.    

''Well, here's a thought. You know his mother is very poor all cooped up in that old house, right?'' 

''Right,'' said Grace confusingly. ''What does that have to do with anything?''

Her father chuckled. ''Girl, you are so brainless. If you're poor, you need money, and goodness knows she needs the money. And who has the money? Take a good guess.''

''Us!'' 

''Exactly! So, with us being filthy rich, you and Ethan could get married.''

Grace clasped her hands with excitement. 

It had been 3 weeks since his mother hadn't returned. Before she left, she said she would be back in three days. Those 3 days had passed, and Ethan started to get worried.

One evening he grabbed his hat and scarf and put on the furry coat that he got for his 16th birthday, He got on top of his horse, Leo, and went on, holding a map in his hand.

The evening soon turned into night. Leo particularly did not like the night much, but Ethan tried to steady his horse. 

As they traveled on, Ethan could swear he heard howling. There tended to be wolves around areas such as these, so he was a bit wary. 

After a while of riding, he started to realize that he was lost. He was holding the map upside down! He was tired, but he still wanted to look for his Mama. Then, it started to rain.

Both Leo and Ethan were tired and needed a place to rest. Nearby, he saw the faint image of a castle like building. Maybe a kind stranger in there could help them rest up for the night.

Upon arriving at the castle, Ethan looked on the ground and noticed something. It was his Mama's shawl. Was it possible she could be here? He needed to find out.

He opened the tall silver gates, and lead Leo inside, tying his rein to a nearby tree. He walked up the steps and knocked on the door loudly.

''IS ANYBODY HOME?''

There was no answer.

He decided to knock on the door again, but this time it opened.

The castle was old‑fashioned in the most breathtaking way. Tall arched windows lined the entry hall; their glass tinted a pale rose that let in a warm glow.

The walls were dressed in faded tapestries. They showed scenes of forests, mythical creatures, and long‑forgotten royalty. A grand staircase curved upward in a graceful sweep; its banister carved with delicate vines and flowers.

The moment Ethan looked up, he felt his breath catch. The ceiling soared high above him like the inside of a cathedral, its surface painted in soft, dreamy colors that had faded beautifully with age. Delicate cherubs and tiny angelic figures floated across the plaster; their wings brushed in gold leaf that shimmered whenever the light touched it. Some were painted, others sculpted.

Ethan just stood there marveling everything around him. This place was fit for a king or queen. He wondered who could have lived there. 

''This place is magnificent.'' he whispered softly.

He continued to explore the castle, touching some of the trinkets and still admiring everything around him. For a moment, he got too caught up with everything around him, that he almost forgot who he was looking for. Oh, right, his Mama!

As Ethan began to continue walking, he could hear what seemed like muffled crying come from somewhere in the castle. He began to follow the sound curiously until he arrived in the basement of the dungeon. The room got colder as he walked in, and he looked to the side, and saw his Mama, in a cell, on the floor crying. 

He immediately got down on the ground, trying to reach out to hold Aubrey's hand. 

''Mama, w-what happened, why are you-''

Aubrey interrupted him, her voice sounding troubled. ''Ethan, honey, you need to leave here at one, there is a-''

All of a sudden, the lights on the candles blew out in the room. The wind howled outside, and someone or something banged down the door.

Ethan looked towards the sound. In the door's presence, was a beast. But as Ethan looked closer, the beast had hair?!

The girl‑beast stood tall and powerful, her silhouette framed by the dim, moonlight outside. Her body was unmistakably werewolf. 

Her fur was a deep silver‑gray, shimmering like moonlit steel. It bristled along her shoulders and spine, giving her a constant, electric tension — the sense that she could spring forward in an instant. Her eyes were the most striking part of her: glowing amber, edged with a wildness that made Ethan’s heart pound.

But the more Ethan looked at her face, he noticed something about it..

It wasn’t just wolfish, it carried a harsh, ogre‑like ruggedness that made her look even more fearsome. Her jaw was broad and powerful, framed by coarse fur that grew unevenly along her cheeks. 

Audrey gasped fearfully, holding the bars as Ethan tried to comfort her.

The woman spoke, her voice booming, and ghastly.

''WHO ARE YOU AND WHY HAVE YOU DARED TO ENTER MY CASTLE?''

Ethan trembled, and as the woman got closer, he got scared then he already was.

The wolf- orc woman stood over him with blazing eyes and suddenly grabbed him by the neck.

''YOU WERE TRYING TO STEAL MY TREASURES, YOU THEIF!''

Ethan stuttered, pleading. ''N-no I have not come here to steal anything. All I was trying to do-''

''YOU LIE!''

Ethan sputtered. ''Listen to me please. I was looking for my mother, and we both want to go back home.''

The woman thought for a moment and then shook her head firmly, still holding him by the neck.

''NO, YOU WILL NOT BE RELEASED AND NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY BECAUSE YOU DECIDED TO STEAL MY TREASURES!''

There was nothing Ethan could say more to her to change her mind. He did not want his mother to be kept in this prison. He had to do something.

''T-take me instead.''

The woman looked surprised for a moment. She didn't say anything for a minute, just looked at him. 

''Y-You would take her place?'' she asked.

Ethan nodded. He would do anything to make sure his Mama was safe.

The woman beast thought about this offer. Then she whistled and a furry like dog came and unlocked his mother's cell. Ethan couldn't say goodbye, and even if he wanted to, because everything had happened so quickly. He went to the small little window mounted on the wall of the basement. He looked outside, and there was his mother in a caravan. He waved at her. 

The caravan continued on, until Ethan saw it disappear.      

He stared at the woman beast. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, but what it seemed from his perspective is that she was perhaps conflicted. She then finally spoke.

''L-let me show you to your room. Where you will be staying. As my prisoner.''    

Ethan followed her through the quiet palace, trying to keep up with her. As they walked, his mind kept wandering back to his Mama. He hoped she was safe. He was trying to fight the tears from coming down his face.  

A small cat, who was named Diane, the woman beast was holding whispered to her.

''Mistress, perhaps you are being too harsh on the boy. He has just lost his mother. At least talk to him.''                                      

The woman thought about it. And then she turned around and faced Ethan.

''How do you like the palace so far?''

Ethan glanced around him, looking at the dozens of statues of gargoyles lined up on the walls. He finally settled his eyes back at her.

''It's quite... nice. I like how it looks.''

The woman beast smiled. Just faintly. 

''Well, um, the castle is where you will be staying now, so... you can explore all you want and do whatever. Just don't go into the East Wing. ''

''What's in the East W-''

''IT'S FORBIDDEN!''

That shut Ethan up really quick. He wondered what was in the East Wing, but for right now he wouldn't worry about it much.

The woman beast finally arrived at a door. It was blue, old with age, and some of the paint was chipping off a bit. 

''This where you will be staying.'' she said. 

Ethan opened the door and went inside the room. 

The walls were paneled in deep royal blue, the color rich and velvety. Thick red drapes framed a tall window, their folds heavy and dramatic, swaying slightly from a draft that whispered through the old stone.

A large bed dominated the center of the room. It was carved wooden with a frame dark and sturdy. The blankets were layered in crimson and navy, with a single white quilt folded neatly at the foot A matching rug spread across the floor, woven in bold geometric patterns of red, white, and blue.

To the right, a small writing desk sat beneath a flickering candle. A high‑backed chair upholstered in royal blue velvet waited beside it, looking far more comfortable than Ethan expected in a place like this.

On the opposite wall, a wardrobe stood tall and imposing, its doors painted a faded navy with hints of red trim that had chipped away over time. A single white porcelain basin rested on a washstand nearby, catching the candlelight with a soft glow.

Ethan thought that the room was very beautiful, but he still missed his bedroom back home. It reminded him of the times him and his mother used to have pretend Viking adventures and go looking for treasure. 

The woman beast stared at him as he admired his new room. 

''Do you like it? I know it's not in the best shape, but you'll get used to it. Eventually.''

He nodded. He hoped that he would get used to it. 

The woman beast then cleared her throat. ''At exactly 12 am you will join me for dinner in the grand dining hall. My servants will lead you there. And that's not a request.''

With that she slammed the door and stalked off. Jeez, what was her problem?

Ethan climbed onto his bed and stared into space. Everything that happened today seemed to go by with a rush, and he could hardly recall the events that led up to this moment. He decided to take a little short nap. It had been a long day. 

Through his sleep, Ethan could hear somebody entering his room. He rubbed his groggy eyes and looked towards the sound.

''H-hello? Who is it?''

A small lamp, moving on its own approached the bed. Ethan was a bit startled at first to see the lamb moving around. It had eyes too.

''HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLO MONSEIUR! GOOD DAY TO YOU, GOOD DAY TO YOU!''

Ethan chuckled. ''Why good day to you to sir.''

''I take that your living arrangements are quite well?'' the lamp asked.

''Yes, they quite are.''

The lamp grinned. ''OH, JUST HEARING THAT IS SPLEN-DID! You know, my mistress might be mean, but she always wants to make sure her guests are...intact.'' 

''Oh really?'' Ethan mused.

''YES. In fact, she'll even do a daily check to their room to see if they are alright. Very thoughtful of her, isn't it?''

Ethan leaned closer to the lamp, looking at it carefully. ''Have you had any visitors besides me, as of lately?''

The lamp shook its head. ''No mouseiur, you are our first one in a long time. Therefore, you are quite special.''

Ethan thought to himself, 'What's so special about me?''

All of a sudden, someone else came in. It was the white cat the woman beast was holding. Ethan believed her name was Diane. 

Diane came in, swishing her tail around. 

''Ah, I see you have met, Gabriel.''

Ethan nodded. 

Diane jumped on the bed and sat beside Ethan. If she was a woman, or a girl, he thought she would be very pretty and classy because of the pearl necklace, pearl bracelet, and because of the way she was sitting. All proper-like. 

''Well, I know you already know who I am, but let me tell you anyway, in case you're stupid. My name is Diane Marie-''

Gabriel interrupted her. ''YES, YES! I'm pretty sure mouseiur already knows who you are, and if he doesn't, HE DOESN'T NEED TO KNOW YOUR WHOLE, SO RICHY AND CLASSY NAME!''  he pronounced rich and classy very sarcastically. 

“I’d ought to remind you,” she said sweetly, venom tucked neatly behind every syllable, “that the only thing rich and classy about you is the dust collecting on your manners.”

She flashed him a sharp, triumphant smile.

Gabriel just rolled his eyes. ''Whatever little kitty cat. Your threats have no meaning to me. And also, why is your real reason for being other than to just pick on me?''

Now it was Diane's turn to roll her eyes. ''I was trying to tell the boy here, that the mistress is ready for dinner.''

Just on cue, Ethan's stomach growled very loudly. Gabriel and Diane turned to him, which made Ethan laugh nervously. 

Diane just shook her head and walked towards the door. ''Come on and keep up. If you can.''

Ethan waved bye to Gabriel and followed Diane through the castle. They eventually got into the grand dining room. 

The vaulted ceiling was higher than he expected, disappearing into shadows painted gold by the glow of a massive chandelier. Not just one chandelier, but three, each dripping with crystal that caught the candlelight.  The walls were lined with towering windows draped in deep red velvet, their fabric pooling on the polished marble floor. 

The table stretched almost the entire length of the hall set with gleaming silverware and plates rimmed in royal blue and gold. Candelabras marched down the center of the table, their flames flickering softly. 

Above the fireplace hung an enormous tapestry depicting a night sky swirling with constellations, stitched in threads of silver and sapphire. The hearth itself was large enough for Ethan to stand inside, and a fire crackled there, warm and inviting despite the room’s intimidating grandeur.

This wasn’t just a dining room; it was a statement. 

Diane paused beside him, her expression unreadable in the shifting candlelight.

“Welcome to the grand dining hall,” she said, her tone carrying a hint of pride. “Try not to get lost in it.”

And with that, Diane sashayed away.

Then, a loud booming voice came from behind him.

''I'm assured that you like this area of the castle, yes?''

Ethan turned around. The woman beast was towering over him. She always looked very intimidating, but her eyes looked a bit soft.

''Yes. I like every part of the castle.''

She looked pleased but said no more. Instead, she gestured him to the long table. He sat down in one of the large chairs. 

The table before Ethan looked as though it had been set for a royal feast straight out of an opulent French château—rich, extravagant, and almost too beautiful to touch.

Silver domes had been lifted away to reveal dishes that shimmered in the warm candlelight. Closest to him sat a platter of roasted duck à l’orange, its skin lacquered to a perfect golden crisp, surrounded by slices of caramelized orange. The aroma alone smelled intoxicating to him—sweet citrus mingling with savory richness.

Beside it rested a towering croquembouche, spun with threads of sugar. Each cream‑filled puff was glazed in glossy caramel, stacked in a perfect cone.

Further down the table, a silver tureen brimmed with velouté soup. A basket of freshly baked baguettes sat nearby, their crusts crackling, still warm from the oven.

There were buttered haricots verts, and a dish of gratin dauphinois, its layers of potatoes bubbling beneath a browned, cheesy crust. A platter of herb‑roasted lamb rested on a bed of rosemary.

Crystal goblets sparkled with deep red wine, and delicate porcelain plates—rimmed in gold—waited for him to begin.

It was a feast fit for a king. The richness of it all made Ethan feel small, humbled, and strangely honored to be seated at such a table.

Ethan didn’t bother pretending to be polite; hunger overruled every bit of his manners.

He reached for the nearest dish, tearing off a piece of warm baguette and shoving it into his mouth with a grateful groan. He hadn’t realized just how starved he was until now.

He carved into the roasted duck next, slicing off a generous portion and barely waiting for it to cool before taking a bite. The sweet orange glaze and savory meat hit him all at once. Each bite only made him hungrier.

He also ate some warm soup. He devoured it in spoonfuls, warmth spreading through him with every swallow. The gratin dauphinois didn’t stand a chance; he scooped up forkful after forkful, the creamy potatoes disappearing rapidly from his plate.

Even the croquembouche fell victim to his appetite. He plucked off a caramel‑glazed puff and popped it into his mouth, then another, and another, unable to stop himself.

He wasn’t messy, exactly, but he ate with the unmistakable gusto of someone who hadn’t had a real meal in far too long. His shoulders relaxed, his expression softened, and for the first time since arriving at the castle, he looked genuinely content.

Across the table, the Beast watched him quietly, her expression unreadable, but as he looked at her, he could tell she was quite pleased with his enjoyment of the food. 

Ethan then burped. It was loud and a bit gassy to him. He quickly covered his mouth and said excuse me. The woman beast just rolled her eyes at him and proceeded to burp louder. Ethan couldn't help but laugh his pants off.

After recovering, Ethan started to help with cleaning the dishes off of the table, but the woman's voice stopped him.

''YOU DON'T HAVE TO TOUCH ANYTHING. That's why I have servants.'' her loud voice boomed.

Ethan still felt hat the servants didn't need to do all the work. There were a lot of dishes. 

''I insist on helping. I don't mind at all.''

The furry servants and the woman beast looked a bit shocked. No one had offered them help in a long time. The woman beast thought about it for a few minutes before waving her hand dismissively at him and saying softly, ''Very well then.''

Ethan began to then gather all the plates and take them into the kitchen. The servants helped along with him, and once they were done, they cornered him.

''Mouseiur thank you for helping us this evening. You don't know how grateful we are.'' said a fox servant.       

''Yes indeed,'' nodded a raccoon. ''Adding another hand to the equation felt like a weight lifted off our shoulders and I think our mistress was pleased as well.''

Ethan was glad he could help them. But right now, he was tired. His eyelids began to drop slightly and he began to yawn.

A frog servant, noticing his tiredness said: ''Perhaps you should rest your body for the night mousieur. It has been a long day for you.''

Ethan nodded. It was indeed a long day, and all he wanted to do right now was sleep.

As he was going up the stairs to his room, he noticed the room in east wing was glowing on the inside. He really wanted to go to bed, but his curiosity got the best of him.

He pushed the door open just enough to peer inside.

The room was dim, draped in dust and shadows and it looked like it was ransacked by someone. But at its center stood a pedestal bathed in golden light. And resting atop it was not a rose, as he half‑expected from the stories whispered by the servants, but a peony.

Its petals were full and layered, blushing shades of pink and cream. The flower didn’t wilt, didn’t sway—yet the air around it moved, warm and alive, as though the bloom breathed.

Ethan stepped inside without realizing it, drawn forward by something he couldn’t name. The closer he got, the more he felt it—an ache in his chest, a strange heaviness. The flower was so beautiful, but for some reason it made Ethan sad. 

He reached out a hand, not to touch it, just to feel the warmth. But before his fingers got close, a low growl rolled through the room.

Ethan froze.

He didn’t need to turn around to know who stood in the doorway. And he didn’t need to hear her speak to understand the fury—and fear—coiling in her breath.

He had disobeyed her. And he had found the one thing she never wanted him to see.

They locked eyes and then she roared at him. 

''I TOLD YOU TO STAY OUT OF THE EAST WING, BOY!''

Ethan stuttered. ''I-I didn't mean to look... I just was-''

She stalked closer to him, knocking over a lamp and desk. There was pure blood in her eyes. 

''I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING, AND I LET YOU STAY IN MY CASTLE AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME!''

She grabbed him by the neck roughly and held him in the air and slammed him back down on the ground.

The moment his back hit the floor, the world seemed to jolt sideways. A sharp burst of pain shot through him, but it wasn’t the only thing he felt.

A rush of fear hit first. The Beast had always been intimidating, but this was different. This was raw fury, and for the first time he truly understood how powerful she was.

As he recovered from the impact, he scrambled up and raced out the palace. The furry servants were asking him what was wrong, but he ignored them. He needed to get out of this castle and away from that woman. 

He ran into the cold outside, and for a moment he wished he had brought his coat. But he ran, as fast as he could, trying to get home.

Branches clawed at his clothes as he stumbled into the forest, the darkness swallowing him whole. His lungs burned, his legs ached, but he kept running until the castle lights vanished behind the trees.

Only then did he slow—just enough to hear it.

A low growl.

Then another.

Ethan froze. His breath puffed out in a trembling cloud as he turned his head.

Yellow eyes glinted between the trees. One pair. Then two. Then six.

A pack.

The wolves stepped into the moonlight, fur bristling, teeth bared. Their growls vibrated through the frozen air, surrounding him, closing in. Ethan backed up until his heel caught on a root and he fell hard into the snow.

The largest wolf lunged.

Ethan threw his arms over his face—

A roar split the night.

He knew whose roar it was too. 

The Beast woman slammed into the wolf mid‑air, sending it skidding across the snow. The rest of the pack snarled and circled, but she stood between Ethan and the danger, her massive form heaving with fury.

“Stay behind me,” she growled, voice rough and breathless.

Ethan could only stare, stunned. She fought with a ferocity he had never seen—claws flashing, teeth bared, muscles coiled like steel. She drove the wolves back one by one, but there were too many. One darted in and sank its teeth into her arm.

She roared in pain.

“Stop!” Ethan shouted without thinking.

The wolf’s grip loosened just enough for her to hurl it aside. Snow sprayed everywhere as she staggered, blood darkening her fur. The pack hesitated, sensing the shift, then retreated into the trees with frustrated snarls.

Silence fell.

The Beast' massive form hit the snow with a heavy thud. Ethan froze, staring at her motionless body. The forest around them had gone eerily silent again, as if even the trees were holding their breath.

“Hey—hey, no, no, no…” He dropped to his knees beside her, hands trembling as he touched her shoulder. Her fur was warm, but her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow.

She wasn’t dead.  But she was hurt because of him.

He felt very guilty, but there was no time to sit with it. The cold was already biting at his skin, and if he didn’t move her soon, the wolves might return.

He swallowed hard and slid his arms under hers, trying to lift her. She was heavier than she looked—solid muscle, thick fur, and sheer size. His legs shook as he managed to get her upright, her arm draped over his shoulders.

“Okay… okay, I’ve got you,” he muttered, more to convince himself than her.

Each step was a struggle. The snow dragged at his boots, and her weight pulled him sideways, but he refused to let go. 

“Just a little farther,” he whispered, breath fogging the air. “You saved me… now I’m getting you home.”

The wind howled, pushing against him, but he kept going. His muscles burned, his fingers went numb, and his lungs ached from the cold, yet he didn’t stop. Every time he faltered, he tightened his grip on her and pushed forward.

By the time he reached the castle steps, he was shaking from exhaustion. The doors burst open as the servants rushed out—fox, raccoon, frog, and others—eyes wide with panic.

“Monsieur!” the frog cried. “What happened?”

“In the forest...the wolves...,” Ethan said breathlessly. “She needs help.”

The servants hurried to lift her from his shoulders, guiding her inside with frantic care. Ethan followed, chest heaving, snow melting in his hair and clothes.

Ethan followed the servants down the hall, still shivering from the cold and the weight of everything that had just happened. They carried the beast into a large chamber lit by a crackling fire, laying her gently on a wide bed piled with blankets.

The servants hurried around her, gathering cloths, warm water, herbs. But when Ethan stepped forward, they paused.

“Monsieur… she may not be pleased to see you,” the fox whispered.

“I know,” Ethan said quietly. “But she saved my life. I’m not leaving her like this.”

He knelt beside the bed, hands trembling as he dipped a cloth into warm water. He wrung it out and gently pressed it to the wound. Her body tensed instantly, a low growl rumbling from her throat even in her unconscious state.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “I’m just cleaning it.”

Her eyes snapped open.

She didn’t move—just stared at him, pupils narrowed, breath sharp. Then she tried to pull her arm away.

“Don’t touch me,” she rasped, voice rough with pain.

Ethan held firm, but gently. “You’re hurt. Let me help.”

“I don’t need your help,” she snapped, though her arm trembled too much to pull free.

“You collapsed in the snow,” he said softly. “You would’ve frozen out there.”

Her ears flattened, a mix of embarrassment and irritation flickering across her face. “I told you not to go into the east wing.”

“And I shouldn’t have,” he admitted. “But you still came after me.”

She looked away, jaw tightening. “I didn’t do it for you.”

“Maybe not,” he said, dabbing the wound again, “but you still did it.”

She huffed, a low, grumpy sound that might’ve been a growl or might’ve been her version of a sigh. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re bleeding,” Ethan countered, reaching for fresh bandages.

She grumbled under her breath, but she didn’t stop him this time. Her shoulders relaxed—just a little—as he wrapped the bandage around her arm with careful hands.

“You’re lucky I’m letting you do this,” she muttered.

“You’re lucky I didn’t let the wolves finish the job,” he shot back before he could stop himself.

Her eyes widened—surprised, maybe even impressed—and then she let out a soft, irritated snort.

“Fine,” she said. “Do what you want.”

Ethan smiled faintly, tying the bandage in place. “I already am.”

She looked away again, cheeks hidden beneath fur, but her posture was flustered.

A few days later, the castle grounds lay under a soft, glittering blanket of snow. The air was crisp, the sky pale and clear.

Ethan stepped outside, bundled in a coat the servants had insisted he wear. He spotted her near the courtyard, brushing snow off a stone bench with her uninjured arm. She looked up when she heard him, ears twitching slightly.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” she grumbled, though her tone lacked its usual bite. “You’ll freeze.”

“You’re out here,” Ethan pointed out.

“I have fur,” she replied flatly.

He laughed. Her gaze softened just a little before she turned away, pretending to inspect a snow‑covered statue.

Ethan crouched down and scooped up a handful of snow. He packed it lightly, testing the weight. Then he tossed it gently at her back.

It hit with a soft poof.

She froze.

Slowly, she turned her head, eyes narrowing. “Did you just throw snow at me?”

“Maybe,” Ethan said, trying not to smile.

Her tail flicked once.“You dare challenge me?”

Before he could answer, she scooped up a massive handful of snow—far more than he expected—and hurled it at him. It hit him square in the chest, knocking him backward into a drift.

“Okay—okay! Truce!” he sputtered, laughing as he tried to sit up.

“No truce,” she declared, stalking toward him with exaggerated menace. “You started this.”

He scrambled to his feet and ran, laughing breathlessly as she chased him across the courtyard. Despite her size, she moved with surprising speed, snow spraying beneath her paws. Ethan ducked behind a tree, only for her to circle around and pounce, sending them both tumbling into the snow.

Her breath puffed warm clouds into the cold air. Ethan could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth—small, and almost shy?

“You’re… not bad company,” she admitted quietly.

Ethan shrugged.  “You’re not so terrifying when you’re not yelling at me.”

He reached up and brushed a bit of snow from her cheek. She didn’t pull away. Her eyes softened, the fierce gold of them warming into something gentler, something vulnerable.

Inside the castle, a cluster of furry faces pressed eagerly against the tall window.

The fox servant’s tail swished excitedly. “Look at her… she's actually enjoying themselves.”

The raccoon clasped his paws together. “I haven’t seen our mistress smile like that in years.”

The frog nodded, eyes wide with relief. “Perhaps monsieur Ethan is good for her after all.”

A little farther back, Gabriel and Diane stood side by side, watching the scene unfold with quieter, more thoughtful expressions.

Gabriel crossed his arms, though a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “She’s letting her guard down,” he murmured. “That’s new and splendid.”

Diane leaned forward her voice soft. “It’s more than that. Look at the way she watches him… and the way he looks back.”

Outside, Ethan brushed a snowflake from the Beast woman’s cheek. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned just a little closer, her breath warm in the cold air.

Inside, the servants collectively melted.

“Ohhh, they’re falling in love,” the fox whispered, clasping her paws to her chest.

Gabriel exhaled slowly, his expression softening. “Let’s hope it lasts.”

Diane nodded, her eyes shining with something like hope. “For both their sakes.”

Later that evening, Ethan and the Beast sat down in the living room and read stories together side by side. She laid on her back, watching his lips move as he read. He stopped reading for a minute to look at her, and they stared at each other before Ethan booped her nose. She rolled her eyes at his playful tactics and ruffled his hair.

The tavern was warm and loud, filled with clinking glasses and the low hum of conversation. Grace sat at a polished wooden table with her parents and little sister, basking in the attention of anyone who glanced her way. She was still fuming—Ethan’s rejection had bruised her pride more than she wanted to admit.

Her father was in the middle of boasting about their wealth when the tavern doors slammed open.

A cold gust swept in.

Aubrey stood in the doorway, breathless, hair wind‑tossed, eyes wide with panic.

“I found him!” she cried, voice shaking. “I found Ethan—but he’s been taken! By a creature—by a beast!”

The entire tavern went silent.

Grace blinked, then exchanged a look with her parents.

Her father raised an eyebrow. “A beast? Really? Have you been drinking, woman?”

Aubrey shook her head. “No—no, listen to me! I saw it with my own eyes. A monstrous woman—fur, claws, fangs—she has him as a prisoner in a castle deep in the woods!”

Laughter erupted around the room.

Then Grace’s father let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Enough of this foolishness. You barge in here, shouting about monsters and castles—trying to stir up panic. We won’t have it.”

Aubrey stepped forward, desperate. “Please, you don’t understand. Ethan is in danger. I saw—”

“We’ve heard enough,” Grace’s mother snapped, rising from her seat. “You’re upsetting everyone.”

Two large men from a nearby table stood up, exchanging a look with Grace’s father. They approached Aubrey quickly.

“No—wait!” Aubrey protested as they each took an arm. “I’m telling the truth! Ethan needs help!”

The tavern patrons watched, some amused, some uncomfortable, but none willing to intervene.

“Take her outside,” her father ordered. “Let her cool off.”

The men pushed open the tavern doors, cold wind rushing in again. Aubrey struggled, boots scraping against the floorboards.

A moment later, Aubrey was shoved out into the snow. The doors slammed shut behind her, cutting off the warmth and the laughter.

For a moment, she just stood there, breath shaking in the icy air. The forest loomed dark and silent in the distance.

She wrapped her cloak tighter around herself.

“If no one else will help my son…” she whispered, determination hardening her voice, “then I’ll go alone.”

And with that, Aubrey turned toward the woods—toward the castle—toward the beast.

The castle chattered quietly with anticipation. Soft music drifted through the halls as enchanted servants hurried about, polishing railings and lighting candles that floated into place on their own.

Down one of the long corridors, Diane and Gabriel walked side‑by‑side, whispering excitedly.

“He’s going to faint when he sees her,” Diane said, her tail swishing softly.

Gabriel’s flames flickered with amusement. “Let’s hope he doesn’t. The mistress has worked very hard tonight.”

They stopped outside Ethan’s door.

Gabriel tapped the wood with the edge of his base. “Mousieur? We have something for you.”

The door opened a crack, and Ethan peeked out, his hair messy, and holding a book in his hand. “Is something wrong?”

Diane crawled to him and dropped the note from her mouth on the floor. 

“A message,” she said. “From my mistress.”

Ethan blinked, surprised. “From the Beast?”

Gabriel’s light flared as he nodded firmly. “Open it!”

Ethan unfolded the card. The handwriting was in bold cursive.

“Meet me in the ballroom. If you’d like to.”

Ethan’s breath caught.

Diane sat back on her paws, studying him with knowing eyes. “She’s nervous, you know. More than she’ll ever admit.”

Gabriel nodded. “Terrified, actually. But don’t tell her we said that.”

Ethan felt something warm bloom in his chest. “Tell her… I’ll be there.”

Diane’s whiskers twitched in satisfaction. “Good. She’s waiting.”

Gabriel’s light brightened. “Then let’s not keep the mistress in suspense.”

The Beast’s chambers were a whirlwind of fur, fabric, and frantic energy.

Half a dozen furry servants—wolves, foxes, raccoons, and one very stressed‑out badger—scurried around their mistress, each trying to help her prepare for the ballroom in their own… unique ways.

The Beast stood in the center of the room, towering and broad‑shouldered, wearing her sharp crimson coat with gold embroidery. She looked powerful, regal— and absolutely overwhelmed.

“Hold still, my lady!” squeaked a tiny mouse servant, tugging at the hem of her coat with all his might.

“I am holding still,” the Beast growled, though she hadn’t fidgeting with her paws.

A fox hopped onto a stool behind her, trying to smooth down the fur around her horns. “Your mane keeps puffing up again! Stop thinking stressful thoughts!”

“I’m not thinking stressful thoughts,” the Beast lied, her tail flicking anxiously.

A raccoon scrambled up her arm, holding a comb in his little paws. “Then why is your fur doing that thing?”

The Beast glanced at the mirror. Her fur was, in fact, doing that thing—fluffing out wildly around her shoulders like she’d been struck by lightning.

She groaned. “I look ridiculous.”

“No, no, you look very… imposing,” the badger said, though he sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

The fox nodded vigorously. “Yes! Very masculine! Very beautiful! Very… fluffy!”

“That’s not helping,” the Beast muttered.

A squirrel darted up to her chest, adjusting the sash. “He’ll be impressed, my lady.”

The Beast froze. Her ears twitched. Her heart thumped.

“…You think so?”

Then, in perfect unison they all said:

“Yes.”

The Beast swallowed hard, claws flexing nervously. “I just… I don’t want to frighten him.”

The mouse patted her boot. “Then smile!”

The Beast bared her fangs in a wide, toothy grin. ''CHEESE!''

All the servants screamed.

“NOT LIKE THAT!”

She snapped her mouth shut instantly.

The fox sighed. “Maybe… just don’t smile.”

The Beast nodded. “Good idea.”

Finally, Gabriel the lamp floated into the room, glowing warmly.

“My lady,” he said, “the boy has accepted your invitation. He’s on his way to the ballroom.”

The Beast’s breath caught.

Her ears perked.

Her tail froze mid‑swish.

“Oh no,” she whispered. “I’m not ready.”

The servants all shouted at once:

“YES YOU ARE!”

And with a final shove, tug, and fluff, they pushed her toward the door.

They shoved her into the large ballroom onto the staircase. She straightened her mane and clothes. 

As if on cue, Ethan stepped in.

Ethan stepped into the ballroom just as the chandeliers burst into warm golden light, scattering reflections across the marble floor. Music drifted softly through the air, but he barely heard it — his attention was pulled upward, to the grand staircase where she stood. The Beast, tall and powerful, gripped the railing as though the sight of him had stopped her breath.

For a moment, the entire room seemed to freeze. Servants slowed their tasks, whispers faded, and even the music slowly drifted away. 

She descended the staircase one careful step at a time. Her claws clicked softly against the polished stone, but her eyes never left his. 

Ethan took a step forward, then another. When they finally stood only a few feet apart, she paused, shoulders tense, waiting for him to flinch or retreat.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he smiled. He smiled at her. 

Later that evening, a servant guided them to a smaller dining hall — a room lit by soft lanterns and warmed by a crackling fireplace. The long banquet tables of the castle had been replaced with a small round one, set for two.

Ethan sat first, still unsure whether he should speak or wait. She hesitated across from him, her claws hovering above the chair for a moment before she finally settled into it. 

A plate was set before them: warm bread, roasted vegetables, and a fragrant stew that filled the room with comforting spices. Ethan took a bite first.  She watched him for, almost studying his reaction, before finally lifting her own spoon.

After they both finished cleaning their plates, a song was being played in the ballroom. It was the song his mama played at her and his father's wedding. Ma Belle Femme it was called. 

He stood slowly, almost without thinking, the music pulling him as surely as a memory. The Beast — her ears lifting slightly, her posture tightening with uncertainty — watched him rise. Ethan stepped around the table and extended his hand toward her.

She blinked, startled, as if she couldn’t quite believe he meant it. 

“Come on,” he said softly. “Dance with me.”

Her clawed hand hovered for a heartbeat, trembling with hesitation… then she placed it in his. Ethan guided her gently back toward the ballroom the music swelling as they crossed the threshold.

Ma Belle Femme went like this:

                 mon beau chéri, 

                  mon lever de soleil à mon coucher de soleil,

                  mon ange envoyé par Dieu,

                  Danse avec moi pendant que nous nous embrassons dans notre amour,

                 Tiens ma main et ne la lâche pas,

                sois à moi pour toujours. 

                Ma Belle Femme

It seemed like the night would never end. Ethan laid his head on her shoulder and the Beast blushed. They danced and danced forever.