Struck By Beauty Page 5

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  The sun shimmered off the ocean, making it look dazzling white instead of the calm blue that I knew that it was. Looking out to sea, I could see several seals playing tag. I recognized them as members of my selkie harem. I waved to them and they barked in reply. I knew the message that their bark held; Hurry! Altan doesn’t have much time.

  Footprints other than my own were in the sand. I ignored them. It wasn’t unusual for humans to take walks along the ocean’s shore, I thought as I ran over to the reeds and searched for my sealskin. I tried retracing my steps and found those reeds empty as well. Panic rose up inside of me as dune after dune of reeds didn’t hold my sealskin. I looked along the beach until my eyes came to a man beside a small fire. I ran over to him, hoping that if he had found my pelt then he would be willing to give it back.

  It was said that if a human found a selkie’s sealskin, then he would control the selkie until one of them died. The human could force the selkie to do almost anything, as long as he promised to give them back their pelt in return. I wasn’t sure if this tale was true, and I wasn’t in the mood to find out.

  The man beside the fire wasn’t a peasant from Verna, that much was certain. He wore the latest fashions in velvet and silk with large gold rings on his thick, sausage like fingers. His black hair was slicked back. His cerulean eyes held something like triumph as he watched me walk over to him. It wasn’t until I was almost standing next to him that I noticed what was in the fire. The sickening stench of burnt hair and skin reached my nose, and I cried out as I dove for the fire. The man had put my sealskin in the fire! The man grabbed me before I could get to the flames, and I felt a connection flare up between us.

  “Oh no, dear selkie,” he whispered in my ear as he held me close to his body. “You are mine now.”

  He held me in his arms until the fire burned down to embers. I struggled and fought, but as a human I didn’t have much strength. If I could only get my pelt and transform back into a seal, then I could escape back to the sea. Back to Altan so that I could give him the Salver’s root that I was gripping.

  The man put the remnants of my sealskin hide from the fire into a small, leather bag much like the one that the Salver’s root was in and tied it to his waist. Then he turned to me.

  “Dear selkie, I’ve been looking for you for quite some time,” he said as his eyes took me in. I struggled in his grip, hoping to slip away and run. “Stop,” he commanded.

  The laugh that came out of my mouth was too close to a sob. He thought that he had full control over me because he had my pelt, even though it was now just ashes. He would always know where I was and what I was thinking, but he would never have full control over me. He would never have all of me.

  I lashed out and slapped him across the face with all the strength that my little human body could muster. Anger filled his face as his big, meaty hands gripped the front of my dress. The dress ripped in his hands like it was made of the most delicate material. Naked, I fell to the ground in shock rather than in fear. He tossed the dress aside and grabbed a handful of my hair. He dragged me to my feet and gripped my shoulders. His eyes once again traveled over my body, but this time nothing was left to the imagination.

  “Dear selkie, my name is Lord Breylan, Lord of Verna, and you will learn to call me husband.”

  He covered me with my own traveling cloak, which had somehow escaped damage, and led me back into Verna. He left the torn dress in the sand. I couldn’t care less about his behavior. He had wanted to show me that he was in charge, to show me that my free will was gone. I knew this to be true because I could sense his thoughts like they were my own. I had a glimpse of what he was thinking. As we approached the gates, the two guards that had helped me get the Salver’s root wouldn’t meet my eyes. This had all been a trap. It was obvious from Lord Breylan’s attitude that he had wanted to take a selkie as his wife for quite some time. He must have paid a sorcerer to curse a selkie, my Altan, in order to persuade one on shore.

  Verna was oddly quite. I looked up at the sky, seeing that was a little after noon. The market that we were passing through should have been bustling with vendors and shoppers. The den of the market should have been overwhelming to me. But all that was there were the empty wooden stalls for the vendors. The houses we passed by were locked up tight, not a single window open. I knew that there were people inside because Lord Breylan knew. I felt his satisfaction with the thought that his own people were afraid of him. My stomach churned as we approached a large, gray stone palace; Lord Breylan’s palace. Verna seemed to be nothing but a hollow shell, seemingly devoid of all life.

  The palace doors were locked when we approached. I looked around for a guard to let us in, but they didn’t make any move from the ramparts to open the doors. Lord Breylan held out a hand and pressed it firmly against the door. Light flared from the palm of his hand and seemed to go into the door. The lock clicked and the door swung open. I looked at the man beside me with shock and fear written on my face. He hadn’t paid off a sorcerer to curse Altan. Lord Breylan was the sorcerer.

  “It’s just a simple ward to protect against unwelcome intruders,” he said, thinking that my shock was about his using magick. I felt like telling him that I had seen magick before, and his little display was nothing. But I was afraid that by doing so then Lord Breylan would kill Altan. I couldn’t have my mate’s death on my shoulders.

  He led me into the foyer of the palace, shutting the door behind us. He pressed his hands against the door again and closed his eyes. He was probably replacing the ward he had talked about. I stood in the middle of the foyer, looking up in awe at the ceiling. Painted up there was the ocean and it’s inhabitants. It looked so real. Tears came to my eyes when I saw that a harem of seals were to focus of the mural. Lord Breylan’s hands settled on my shoulders and I turned my eyes to the floor.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  I didn’t care to answer. A door swung open and a balding man in robin’s egg blue robes came into the foyer. His leering eyes traveled over me and I pulled the cloak tighter, trying to make sure I was fully covered.

  “Is this her?” he asked. Lord Breylan nodded and the man smiled. “Good. Everything is ready. Have you two picked the special day?”

  “Tomorrow,” answered Lord Breylan. “We will wed tomorrow.” He looked at me and said, “Milton, could you bring my selkie up to her room?”

  The balding man nodded, taking my hand and leading me upstairs.

  “You will need to clean up and get ready if your wedding is tomorrow,” muttered Milton, more to himself than to me. “There is much for you to do. Ah, here it is.”

  He opened a door to a bedroom that was very simple, yet ornate. A four-poster bed sat against the far wall, covered in the best sheets and comforters that the Lord probably had. A large window opened up to a balcony that over looked the ocean. I could hear the waves even though the window was closed. A desk sat in the corner opposite to the bed and a large, soft rug lay in the large empty space between them.

  “This is your room for the night,” he said. “After tomorrow, your room will be that of your husband’s. Goodnight.” He closed the door quietly and I heard a key slide and the lock turn. They didn’t trust me to stay in here all night. I walked over to the window and threw it open. The scent of the sea overtook me and I collapsed onto the floor, sobs wracking my body. Sleep washed over me as the sounds of the sea sang their age-old lullaby to me.