They took less time than we thought.

I awoke to Tyr's body against mine and the sound of distant hoofsteps thundering against the earth.

Most of the riders were already up and heaving on their leathers and strapping on their weapons when my protector and I emerged from the tent, Tyr half-dressed and me in a flimsy nightgown I'd sporadically thrown. The leader of the riders shoved on a shirt and pinned on his cloak, hollering orders around the campsite as I stared at the entrance into the woods, the trees too thin to shield us from view of the intruders. Fires were diminished, and swords and knives and daggers cutting through the air sounded all around.

They were here.

Tyr came up behind me, folding a cloak around my shoulders. "We don't have enough time to saddle all the horses and flee," he informed me, his eyes grave. "A few of my men will take you out of these woods and get you as far away as possible. "

I wheeled around to him, my eyes wide. "And what are you going to do?"

I already knew the answer before he uttered it.

"I'll buy you the time you need." He glanced down at me, tucking back a tress of my hair that had fallen out of place.

"No," I objected, my fists clenched. "I am not leaving you behind."

He touched my cheek tenderly. "You have to."

But he'd be slaughtered by the prince as soon as they arrived.

The hoofbeats were growing louder.

"Please, Tyr," I begged. I couldn't leave him in the hands of Gaston.

One of the riders guided a white mare toward us, a saddle already in place and a fresh bag of supplies tethered to the side with rope. The man nodded at Tyr, then at me, and I knew it was the end.

"Go," Tyr told me, ushering me up the horse. I gazed at him, his eyes dark and concerned and glistening with longing.

I wrapped a hand around the reins. "Come with me," I tried one last time, but he only shook his head.

The riders accompanying me had already mounted their steads. I bit down on my tongue. The decision on Tyr's face was final.

I swung myself onto the horse, the wind gnawing at my bare skin.

"Go," my protector said again, holding my hand one final time.

And with a chorus of snapping reins, I was steered backward into the heard of the woods, leaving the camp, the soldiers, Tyr, behind. Moisture brimmed from my eyes and I ground down on my teeth, the mare galloping through the trees, every beat taking me farther and farther. I swiped a hand under my eyes, tailing after the men commanded to protect me, my blood roaring in my ears. Dead leaves sprayed where hooves landed, and the shouts and bellows of our camp were soon lost behind us.

My knuckles turned white around the reins, hatred and anger and grief gripping my heart. Tyr's green eyes were gone. And I was too much of a coward, too weak to do anything.

The woods drew denser as we rode toward the arcing horizon overhead.

Birds sang, and from behind me, I heard the sudden horrible, muffled sound of an explosion.

I yanked the reins to my chest and the mare below me reered back, tossing her huge head before swerving around, the half a dozen riders coming to an abrupt halt around me.

"Your Highness," one of them called to me.

I ignored him, focusing on the howls in front of me, all the death and destruction that was occuring in my name.

I'll buy you the time you need.

I didn't want the time, or the chance to escape and flee and run for the rest of my life.

I wanted Tyr.

And I was going to get him.

With a hiss, I spurred the horse, the beast letting out a tremendous cry before sprinting back through the trees, the wind breaking past us and the sun flooding the woodland floor with a threatening, hollow gold.

The other riders yelled after me, chasing me back through the woods. But I didn't stop. I didn't even turn to look back.

The mare trampled past the last skirt of trees, and in a strangle of bawling soldiers and shrieking horses, I re-entered the clearing, my eyes immediately flitting to Tyr Silvestre, his twin swords out in his hands and blood splattered across the front of his shirt.

My Beast turned to look at me as the riders joined me, horror and shock and relief all striking his sculptured features. Surrounding him was the damage and ruin I had caused.

He mouthed my name, another string of words lifting from his lips.

But I wasn't looking at him anymore.

Because, over the screech of swords and collapsing men, an arrow was whirling straight for him. Gaston lowered the bow in his hands, blue eyes alight in satisfaction.

All I saw was red when I leapt from the saddle of my horse, the world a spinning chaos as I scrambled as fast as my legs could carry me across the clearing, toward Tyr, toward the arrow that sliced through the air and found its mark between my ribs.

That was the first instant I felt true pain.

And it hurt like hell.

But I couldn't help but feel glad.

Tyr was safe.

I heard screams, bodies thumping to the ground, the sound of Gaston's protests as the riders that had been with me forced him to his knees.

Air seeped out my throat and as I tipped backward toward the ground, arms came around my waist, a familiar face appearing over me.

"Belle," Tyr croaked, his voice strained. "I told you to leave! Why did you come back?"

I'd never been reprimanded by Tyr before, never had him shout at me for anything I did.

I smiled.

Raising a blood-stained hand to his face, my smile turned into a wide grin.

"Dumbass," I chuckled to him, "if I had left, you would be dead."

And I was relieved with every shard of my being that I had come back.

"They can't hurt me, remember?"

My heart twisted with a pang at the glint in Tyr's eyes.

So this was what pain felt like.

Tyr grabbed my hand, pressing it to him like it was last thing he could hold on to.

"You're free," I whispered to him. "You don't need to protect me anymore, Tyr."

I'd stolen his freedom, made him bind himself to me one fateful year ago. I was returning everything back to him now.

"I free you, Tyr Silvestre."

I thought I saw tears in his eyes.

I tried to say something more, but my throat was too dry, my sight too blurred, my mind too deep in the darkness.

I was going to die.

"That arrow was made from Arrenspire's redstone," Gaston cackled from what felt like a long, long distance away. "You can't save her."

Hands grazed my face, a voice murmured my name, and I was drowning.

Something soft skimmed my lips, trailing across my mouth with a gentleness my heart skipped a final, steady beat at.

"I love you, Belle."

I might have been dreaming.

There was a white light, a flash that streaked across my vision. I felt stinging threads of the lightest touch of my own magic stitch my body back together.

My nostrils flared. My eyes fluttered. My fingers flexed.

I felt myself breathe again.

I didn't let go of the voice that was uttering my name over and over, didn't let go of the sorrow in the face of the man embracing me, shedding tears that slid down my own cheeks.

I brushed my fingers over his scars, permanent and ragged and all that I loved.

The sky was blue again, and in that specific moment in time, Tyr was all I saw.

I kissed his tears away.

"I love you," I professed to him, and he breathed out an airy, humorless laugh.

"I love you, Belle," he repeated just for my ears. "So, so much."

I'd broken his curse, and he had saved me.

Tyr helped me rise to my feet, and when we both spun to Gaston, his face was red with rage.

"You should all be dead!" He thrashed and flailed, and it was my turn to laugh.

My eyes flickered to the men pinning him to the ground. "Throw him into the heart of the woods."

They obliged with bows and dragged the sniveling, traitorous crown prince toward the crooked cover of trees.

I stepped back to Tyr, the corners of his mouth twitching. His expression mirrored mine, and the moment our lips met, I knew.

I was complete, for I had found both beauty and beast within myself, and within the man I love.

THE END