CHAPTER THREE

THE brisk autumnal chill of the Wolves' Woods nearly made Belle numb, even with the added layer of warmth of Gaston's cloak which he had relinquished. They came to a forest opening and paused, for which Belle was grateful as it felt as though the two of them had been walking for hours. Her feet felt like lead in her boots that were slowly becoming muddied, and she could already feel the beginnings of painful blisters forming on the back of her heels.

She did not think she could continue, at least not without a break. Belle frowned as she felt a stinging on her lower cheek and when she touched it, the tips of her fingers came away bloodied.

She must have cut herself among the twisted gnarled branches when Gaston had been ushering her deeper and deeper into the heart of the thick dense forest that seemed to have no end in sight at all.

"Where are we? Why—why are we stopping? A-are we on the right way, Gaston?" Belle gasped breathlessly as she clung to the trunk of a nearby tree to steady herself, heaving and clutching at a stitch in her side as she gasped for breath, her lungs burning and on fire. She felt more than uneasy as Gaston twisted his head and stared at her now.

"Dinner, Belle," Gaston grunted, though his voice was soft. "It will take us most of the night to walk back to the village and you need to eat to keep up your strength," Gaston told her. "I will not see you starve to death in these woods."

Belle felt a stab of panic pierce her heart at the thought of lingering in this wicked forest any more than was necessary. She frantically shook her head. "I'm not hungry, Gaston," she told him, her pained expression showing the nausea her stomach felt.

Gaston frowned, growing even more irate and if she was not mistaken, worried and concerned for her, which she could not help but feel somewhat touched by.

"But we don't know when we'll get another chance, Belle," he reminded her, his tone bordering on nearly biting.

"Please," she begged, unable to control the fear that caused her voice to shake. "I don't want to eat." She shook he head again as if to emphasize her point. "I want to go home, to Papa, and I want to get out of this forest as soon as possible, I don't like this forest, Gaston, it's...it's dark and creepy. It makes me feel as if we're being watched. Hunted," she sniffed.

Without thinking or caring how it seemed, she reached for Gaston's arm and wound her fingers around him. Gaston did not look entirely pleased that she was refusing his offer to let him find her something to eat, but after a moment, he begrudgingly nodded and told her to keep up with his fast pace as best as she was able to after they rested.

"Rest then, for a moment, while I have a look around," Gaston suggested as he realized Belle had once again denied him and motioned to a fallen log a few feet away.

Eager to ease the ache in her feet, Belle accepted and gingerly shuffled over to the log. Without waiting to be asked, Gaston took Belle by the arm gently and helped her to sit, grateful the fallen log was next to a tree so she could have a support brace for her back. Gaston then took a seat on a weathered old stump a few feet from Belle.

Belle leaned heavily against the trunk of the tree, the rough bark of the tree trunk scratching through the thick woolen fabric of Gaston's cloak and poking her back. It was almost a welcome distraction from the throbbing pain that the blisters on her heels were causing. Belle leaned her head back and closed her eyes and let out a deep exhale.

"Thank you, Gaston." Belle's words were soft and unassuming and held no hint of the usual disgust and disdain she normally regarded him with. Despite the coldness of Gaston's colorless grey eyes that had always afflicted her, Belle kept her gaze fixed on his. She was not willing to let her thank you to him now lose any sort of meaning.

"For what? You're thanking me for what?" Gaston asked, his mind struggling to comprehend why Maurice's daughter was thanking him. He was only doing as the old man had asked by whisking Belle away from that wretched beast of a Prince, or so the rumors had said that the family had dabbled in witchcraft once upon a time.

It was said that the Duke's son was a Changeling Prince and kept locked away in his shining castle for fear of what his subjects would do to him if they found out the beastly monster he spent his days and nights as.

Or so the stories went, but stories were for the tow-headed idiots in his tavern back home, and Gaston had always considered himself above such lies. He would believe their realm's Prince was a Changeling man when he saw it with his own eyes, and not a second before.

Gaston was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Belle's shy voice wafting through the air like a faint breeze.

"You're bringing me home," she continued solemnly, with a twinge of awe in her tone. "After the trouble and how I've hurt you, you're still risking your own life to save me." She let out a little breath and stared at him with wide eyes.

Belle felt her words catch in her throat and fought against the urge to wring her hands together out of a nervous habit. She bit down on her lip and glanced down shyly at her lap.

"I don't deserve your kindness, monsieur, but I want you to know I'm grateful for it. And I can pay you..." she hesitated and trailed off as she thought of the various collections of failed inventions in her and Papa's home. They did not have much to their name, yet they had each other, and that had usually been more than enough even on nights when her belly clamored and roared like an enraged dragon, too hungry and needing food to allow her to sleep well.

But now, Belle was beginning to wish Papa had been able to save a little bit more money, that she could offer Gaston some sort of reward for bringing her back to the village. It was the least she could do.

"...Something," she finished lamely, remembering she had never finished her sentence. Gaston let out a morose chuckle and smirked a bit as he paused to tighten his ponytail and make a quick scan of the clearing they were within.

"I have no want or need for your money, Belle. To see you back home where you belong and to see you smile at me is rewarding enough." Belle parted her lips in awe at Gaston's words. They almost sounded like poetry.

No boy, not even him, had spoken to her in this manner, until now. She felt a blush rise to her face out of embarrassment and was beginning to think that perhaps she had misjudged him.

Belle silently made a vow to God that going forward she'd be kinder to Gaston. She had been about to speak to him, to tell the man that she would be glad to spend an evening in his company after the lengths he was going to escort her home when the snapping sound of a twig and the unmistakable crunching of leaves caused her to stiffen at the noise. From somewhere beyond the trees, a low wolfish growl was heard emanating through the forest clearing.

Oh, God, no, please no. Wolves? Belle's mind raced frantically as her nervous eyes darted around the clearing.

Belle glanced fearfully at Gaston. The hunter's expression was stone and the man had gone as still and silent as an owl, though she could tell that he was listening for more sounds, trying to discern where the low and savage growls of the wolf or wolves were coming from. Whatever was making the noise, it was big.

Surely, Belle tried to tell herself, there was no possible way Gaston could fend off such a large and vicious animal all on his own, no matter how good of a shot with his bow and arrow he was. They held their breath and waited stiffly.

Belle's eyes widened as on the opposite side of the forest's clearing, a figure emerged from the thick white mist that was swooping and skirting through the trees, its form monstrously enormous.

A yelp nearly left her throat as the figure stalked forward and beside her, she heard Gaston inhale sharply.

When her eyes first landed on the young Prince who was now her master, at first, she couldn't quite process the information, yet something was gravely wrong with the man. He had grown in height, at least a foot by comparison since the last time she saw him, and the man's limbs had begun to violently convulse. Wiry bits of fur were starting to sprout all over his arms and legs and even his face, going so far as to cover his entire body in thick brown fur.

A low, pain-filled groan that quickly transformed into a scream filled the forest clearing with the dreadful sound that chilled Belle's blood in her veins to ice.

The sound that the Prince was now making as twisting horns began to painfully sprout and protrude from the top of his head as he transformed into a hideous creature right in front of her and Gaston's eyes belonged to neither man nor Beast. He was making a noise that was both frightening and demonic. Belle grimaced as she felt a stab of pity prick at her heartstrings. It sounded as though he were in pain and suffering.

"We have to help him," she heard herself answer in a small voice.

She flinched as Gaston slowly turned to look at her.

Had the entire realm fallen on them?

Gaston was staring at her now in incredulous disbelief and shook his head. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Gaston make the sign of the cross and this surprised her, for she had never considered the hunter to be the religious type, though she'd heard tell that his parents were, when they were still alive.

"Belle, no!" Gaston hissed in a low voice from her left as without thinking, Belle gingerly rose to her feet.

She turned a deaf ear to Gaston's muttered curses under his breath and she could feel the man's fingertips graze against a fistful of the cloak he had loaned her in a feeble attempt to keep her by his side, but she was too overcome with curiosity at what was happening to the Prince of the realm.

Belle stared, wide-eyed and in total disbelief at the witch's hex that was taking place right before her very eyes, for she was sure that was the only logical explanation. Some enchantress, some fairy crone somewhere in a different time and place must have cursed him for some reason that was unknown to her.

Belle purposefully stepped on a few twigs loud enough that the Beast sharply turned his head. Hiding was pointless, she realized. He likely had a heightened sense of sight and smell and would sniff them out as a wolf or hound would.

Belle felt tears come to her eyes as the Prince stalked forward and she waited for the monstrous creature to lunge.

She knew her and Gaston's chances of escaping were slim. In this cursed, monstrous form, Prince Adam would surely catch up to them both before Gaston could make it two feet with her, she was sure, yes, she was sure.

The land's handsome Prince, who was now an ugly and ferocious-looking Beast, could snap her in half like a twig with his hands which had now become furry paws that were as large as wash basins if he wanted to.

Belle watched as she stretched a trembling hand to touch the Beast's face, still awed at the extraordinary and frightening transformation she had witnessed, a fascinating yet cruel bit of magic.

A chill ripped through her as the Beast let out a low warning growl and bared his teeth. He very nearly snapped at her as she drew closer, but the Beast ceased its savage growling. She parted her lips in shock and turned toward Gaston. As Gaston angrily strode forward and fumbled to notch an arrow, he saw with his own eyes how the Changeling Beast's expression almost softened, and it started to lick its lips.

A yelp nearly left her throat as an arrow suddenly whizzed past her left ear, almost striking her, and would have hit the Beast in the arm had he not lunged out of the way. Belle shrieked and whirled on her heels to find the tip of death now staring at the Changeling Prince as Gaston had notched another arrow and was prepared to fire it.

"What are you doing?!" she cried, astonished at Gaston's cruelty against the Prince of these lands. "He's the Prince!" she cried, her face showing pure disbelief at what Gaston had nearly done, he had almost hurt the Prince.

Though before she could immediately come to her new master's defense, another growl rent the air, this one not from the changed Prince who was now more Beast than a man.

She whipped her dark locks around and the sight that met her eyes made her freeze.

At least four sturdy and vicious wolves were stalking their path and seemed to take no notice of the monstrous Beast that was now in front of her. Their fur was as white as snow, and their paws were as big around as wash basins. Even on all fours, the animals were almost as tall as Belle was. Belle stood motionless and prayed the wolves would just go away, too afraid to even breathe though she could hear the sound of Gaston notching another arrow.

Belle's terror only grew as the largest of the four wolves let out a low growl, its hackles raised, and it assumed an attack stance.

The wolves stood only a few feet from her and Gaston and even when Gaston moved to stand in front of her and prepared to fire, he could not simultaneously fire four arrows at once to put them all down.

One would surely manage to catch them. But from somewhere to her left, Belle heard a furious blood roar, a noise that she was sure no human being could make. It stuffed the chills down her throat as she whirled to her left in time to see the Beast hurling himself towards the woods, his paw already raised high to strike.

Her heart filled with dread as she watched the Beast who had been the Prince of these lands not a moment ago turn vicious, writhing and screaming and continuing to make sounds that were not human, trying to rid her and Gaston of their unwanted company and scare off the wolves and send them even deeper into the Wolves' Woods.

Belle quickly lost sight of him among the pack of wolves that had begun to try to pile high on top of him and he feared they would maul him to death.

She fell to her knees on the ground, and not even the tempered strength of Gaston pulling her back to her feet was enough to keep her standing upright or from feeling faint as the scent of blood wafted through her nose. Bile rose in her throat as she realized that somehow, she'd had a hand in the Prince getting hurt.

A chill ripped down her throat as the Beast released a horrifying death scream and Belle could take no more. She turned pleading eyes towards Gaston, who had lowered his bow and arrow an inch and was merely watching the Beast attempt to fight off four wolves on his own, looking interested.

"Help him, Gaston, please! We can't let him die!" she screamed, tears trailing down her cheeks.

Belle flinched as she saw in Gaston a vigorous sadness mixed with angst and she held a breath.

The color drained from her face, but she prayed Gaston would help him. They could not let the Prince of these lands die, or it would surely be their heads.

Perhaps Gaston realized this, for she could only watch as his colorless grey eyes began to tear up in both ire and perhaps bitter defeat that his little attempt at rescue had gone so wrong.

The edges of his mouth twitched, and he tried entirely too hard to control his tears, to show that he did not flinch, but the more he did, the more he failed himself.

Gaston glared but said nothing as he turned and one by one, shot arrows at the wolves until all lay dead and scattered in an ungainly heap by the cursed Changeling Prince, who seemed to be teetering on the very brink.

She heard Gaston growl in pain as he stalked forward towards the Beast, his grey eyes were wide in disbelief to find the cursed Prince was still alive yet had dropped to his knees and was cradling his arm that was mauled and badly wounded. Belle felt bile rise in her throat as she realized Beast or not, the Prince would need immediate medical attention if he wanted to save his arm. Unless it be cut off if infection and rot would begin to fester within.

Belle nearly jumped at the sound of Gaston's hoarse voice as his voice reached her ears as he spoke.

"There, Belle. He's been saved and still lives, happy now?" he grunted quietly and made to turn away and motioned for Belle to follow.

She swore she heard Gaston sniff as she shook her head and ran to dart in front of Gaston and blocked his path forward. Belle jutted out a hip and rested her hands on her hips as she pressed her lips austerely, showing her disapproval, before she spoke. She stomped her foot, a temporary release of frustration as she said her piece.

"No, Gaston, I'm not," she snapped. "We're not leaving him here in the woods alone to die from his wounds, Gaston, and if you've any decent feelings for me at all, you will let me go back," she said in a small and meek voice.

Gaston stared at her in disbelief, wanting to believe he had heard her wrong. But Belle had turned as grim as a graveyard and no hint of a joke could be traced in her dark eyes.

"Y-you can't, Belle," Gaston's voice nearly shook.

Belle merely looked at him and shook her head sadly.

"They would kill you, Gaston, if you came back with me. The Duke would have you imprisoned and executed. You should return to the village and tell Papa that I will be alright. You have seen me, I am well and being cared for."

"By a monster, Belle, do you hear yourself right now?" Gaston demanded. "How ridiculous you sound? He would kill you when and if he turns again!" Gaston nearly exploded as his face turned red as he gestured towards the Prince whose eyelids were flickering open and shut, barely perceptively, as he was starting to lose consciousness.

Gaston shook his head, wanting to convince Belle that her idea was foolish, that her best chance was to return to the village with them, and he would even go as far as to help Maurice and Belle flee if it meant it would endear him to both and he could cement his place in Belle's life as her husband and future protector.

"Belle, please, let me bring you back. Let me take you home and then we can plan for you and Maurice to flee, to the countryside perhaps, or even leave France altogether. I would go with you and be at your side, I would watch over you both."

"No, Gaston, this is the only way," Belle quietly refused as her face nearly crumpled again as she fought the urge to break down into tears. "I cannot let you risk your life or Papa's. Not for me. Not when it was my fault for being brought here in the first place." She sniffed and wiped her left eye as her throat hollowed and her tears slipped out despite her efforts to contain them.

Without a word, Gaston locked Belle in his strong arms as the girl let out frustrated sobs. He rested his chin on top of her hair and frowned. All of the planning, all of the risks that had been taken to whisk her away from the castle this night would have been wasted.

"How will you do it, Belle? How in God's name will you get this—this thing, back to the castle and explain your absence to the realm's Duke? Will you admit you ran off?"

Belle let go of Gaston after a moment, wiping her eyes and straightening her posture. She shook her head.

"Hit me unconscious, Gaston," she said in a tiny voice that for a moment, Gaston wasn't sure he'd heard.

Gaston's jaw went slightly slack in surprise and every bit of the man seemed to protest as he furiously shook his head and stepped away from Belle, looking at her as though she had lost her mind. Perhaps she had, but he did not outright refuse her request and she had some hope.

"You're mad, Belle," Gaston gripped as he looked away, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he fought to maintain his composure of himself.

"So they say," Belle muttered dryly and gave Gaston the little sarcastic smile she was famous—or infamous—for, but then her demeanor once more turned serious as she begged him. "You have to, Gaston, you have to!" she pleaded, darting forward, and tugging on fistfuls of his black leather jerkin. "I'd tell the Duke that I went for a walk to get my bearings and got lost. And I was cornered by Changeling men, vicious ones who could turn into this Beast. The Prince stepped in to save me when they hauled me over their back to whisk me away to their cave, but he was bitten in the process, becoming like one of them as well and…and…" Belle trailed off, unable to give more life to her make-believe story.

"I will not do it, Belle," Gaston swore through gritted teeth. He huffed in indignation and folded his arms across his chest.

"If you want to marry me, Gaston, then you will do as I ask of you! You swore to my father, Gaston," Belle begged, anger and fear beginning to darken her chocolate brown eyes until they were almost black. It unnerved Gaston. "If you want me to like you, if you want to marry me, then help me, and I would be your wife once I return and my debt to the Duke is paid."

Gaston froze while shaking his head, yet her words gave him pause as he slowly turned his head and regarded her. Belle could tell Gaston was doing his best to see the point of her plan in returning to the castle with this Beast-Prince in tow, but she was too frantic and she was not thinking straight. Gaston sighed.

"Are you sure you want this, Belle?" Gaston asked Belle begrudgingly.

She looked over the man's shoulder at some distant unimportant point in the forest before she numbly nodded her head.

"I am sure, Gaston," she answered, though her voice trembled. "It's the only way either of us survive," she confessed and looked down at her boots, now fully muddy.

Gaston sighed between gritted teeth as he circled Belle and the Beast, his mind in deep meditation as he gave thought to Belle's plan.

"Fine, Belle, go back with this wretch if you must, but I will be watching the walls and when you're ready, pluck a rose from the rose gardens and leave it outside the gates and I will rescue you. But make no mistake, you will regret this moment," he gruffed, an angry cut to his voice that made Belle look up in surprise, her lips parted in awe.

Belle stared as Gaston gazed heavily at her. She shivered and gritted her teeth as she saw something in the handsome boy's face she had never seen before. A shadow of sadness passed across the hunter's strong, angular features. And even greater regret. Then, without a word, he turned and walked away to leave Belle on her own to lift the now-monstrous Prince Adam to his feet as best she could and escort the wounded Beast back to the castle.

All the while, a simple but poignant thought ran through her mind, and refused to leave her alone.

I hope this isn't a mistake…