Roses & Ruin by Jade Marshall

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Bone Mother Chronicles, 2

Everyone fears the Beast of Whitlock Forest.
Isabelle wants to know his story.


The kingdom calls him a monster, but she sees the man beneath the claws.

Drawn into the cursed heart of Whitlock Forest by the secrets her mother left behind, Isabelle finds herself trapped inside a haunted palace with the Beast himself, a prince twisted by ancient magic and determined to keep her at arm's length.

But the more time they spend together, the harder it becomes to ignore the undeniable pull between them.

The Bone Mother is waiting.
The curse is waking.
And if Isabelle can't uncover the truth before it's too late, she'll lose far more than her heart.

In this dark Beauty and the Beast retelling, love may be the only thing powerful enough to break a curse... or destroy an entire kingdom.

Be Warned: monster romance

 

Excerpt:

I take the back stairs, the servants' passage, a narrow spiral of cold stone that smells of dust and old iron. My bare feet make no sound on the steps.

The great hall is empty. Moonlight spills through the broken windows, painting the marble in silver and shadow. The front doors stand open, and the forest waits beyond. I cross the threshold and the night swallows me whole.

Cold bites my ankles, mud slicks the stone path, and the roses along the courtyard walls have turned their faces toward me, petals open, watching. I walk. Then I run.

Not because I have a destination. Because something inside me needs to move. Needs to feel the ground beneath my feet and the wind in my hair and the wild, reckless terror of being alive in a place that wants to eat me.

Whitlock Forest convulses, swallowing me whole. I sprint, panic burning through my veins. Branches whip my skin, thorns rake blood from my arms, and my cloak snags until it tears. My breath rasps, desperate and uneven, chest heaving as if the forest itself is squeezing the air from my lungs. Roots writhe underfoot, trying to trip me.

The trees crowd closer, shadows snarling and shifting, always reaching. The path, a shifting, treacherous ribbon, lures me onward, promising escape but always threatening to vanish.

As if something wants me to run. As if something enjoys the chase.

I hear him before I see him.

The growl rolls through the trees like thunder. It vibrates in my chest, in my teeth, in places lower and more dangerous. It is not the Beast's careful warning. It is the sound of a predator who has caught a scent and can’t stop.

I glance over my shoulder and see eyes. Blue and burning. Ten steps behind me.

The Beast moves through the trees like darkness given muscle. His horns catch the moonlight. His claws tear through the undergrowth without slowing. His body is enormous, low to the ground, and built for pursuit.

He is beautiful, he is terrifying, he is hunting me, and I am running.

I burst into a clearing. The moon hangs directly overhead, silver and swollen. White roses bloom in a circle across the ground, their petals luminous in the dark. The air smells of magic and musk and hunger.

I stop. My chest heaves and my hair is a mess, tangled and wild around my face. The Beast steps into the clearing behind me. He does not rush. He does not roar. He walks toward me with the slow, deliberate confidence of something that knows its prey has nowhere left to go.

My back touches the trunk of a tree. The bark is rough against my spine. My palms press flat against it, the surface rough and somehow warm.

The beast stops three steps away. He is not Adam right now.

His breath comes hard. His claws sink into the earth. His eyes burn blue, but there is something wrong with them. Something feral. The man has retreated. The Beast has risen. And the Beast is not careful.

"Isabelle," he growls.

My name in that mouth. That voice. It sounds like a curse, a prayer, and a warning I have no intention of heeding.

"You found me," I whisper.

His chest rumbles. "The forest made me."

"I know."

"You should run.”

His nostrils flare. He can smell me. Not just the fear. The other thing. The heat. The want that has been building since the first moment I saw his eyes in the shadows and felt something inside me answer.

He closes the distance. One step. Two. Three.

Then he is there. In front of me. Close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his fur. Close enough that his breath stirs my hair. Close enough that if I lifted my hand, I could touch the horns curving back from his skull.

His clawed hand rises. I hold my breath. He touches my jaw. One claw. The pad of one finger. Careful despite the hunger rolling off him in waves.

"Your heart is racing," he says.

"I know."

"Is it fear?"

 

Series:
/series-bone-mother-chronicles/