When the Beast wakens, nothing will stop him from claiming his bride…
Vynasha is certain of two things: she is forever bound to the monster who loves her, and she can never return to Castle Bitterhelm again. Escape has come at a high cost, and though Vynasha freed the imprisoned beasts, she has awakened an ancient evil that now stalks her. For the curse is unfinished with the one the prophecy spoke of, and Grendel continues to haunt her dreams.
This time she won’t fight the oncoming darkness alone.
Ceddrych may not be her brother by blood, but their bond has only grown stronger. When the wolves they’ve found refuge with threaten them, Ceddrych and Vynasha must fight together to overcome enemies around them. Danger lurks at every corner, and only by playing the pack alpha’s games can they survive the winter.
One thing rings true in the waking world and her dreams: Grendel won’t sleep forever.
Only by claiming her powers can Vynasha protect her newfound family and prevent the ruination of Wylderland. A dark tale of enchantment and woe, perfect for fans of Margaret Rogerson and Holly Black, Scarred Beauty is the second installment of the epic Wylder Tales Series!
The beast was massive, at least tall at its razorback spine as Grolthox had been. Its head was a cross between a bull and a bear, with bright ruby eyes shaped like a wyldcat’s.
“Seal the door shut behind me,” she said, softly, to not spook the creature.
A whispered argument erupted behind her, before one of the children shut the door with a resounding snap.
The beast snarled and lifted its head, sniffing at the house, at the prey waiting inside. But the instant the door shut, a wave of magick passed over the structure at Vynasha’s back, sealing the wylderfolk within.
“Easy, eyes on me,” she said as she brought her bleeding hand before its face.
The beast cocked its head aside and its shoulders hunched, brown fur bristling as it pressed its wet nose into her palm.
She bit back a cry as the beast ran a rough tongue over her wound with a rumbling purr. The rubies in the dagger bit into the hand she kept ready behind her back, just in case. “That’s fine, take what you need. But not too much.”
As though the creature heard her, it suddenly lowered its head, licking its chops.
Vynasha lowered her trembling arm as quickly as she dared. “You are very far from home,” she said, drawing the beast’s gaze. With careful steps, she began to step into the snow on her stocking clad feet and ignored the stabbing chill. “How did you make it past the gate and the wards, I wonder.”
The beast took a lumbering step after her. She turned her head, but maintained eye contact, and reached a palm behind her to avoid the trees. She just needed to get the beast away from the house, then she could…
What? What will you do?
Her eyes welled and she tamped down on the fear rushing through her blood.
“Keep talking,” a voice that sounded too like Ferox whispered to her head.
Vynasha squeezed her fist and droplets of her violet blood spilled on the snow. The beast followed the trail, taking careful licks after her. “Do you remember who you were, before?”
The beast growled low and lifted a narrow, hungry gaze upon her before following the next drop of tainted blood.
“My father became a beast like you. Only death released him in the end…I’m so sorry, for what’s happened to you. I’m sorry…” Tears blurred her vision and Vynasha stumbled, catching her fall on a tree trunk.
The beast’s hackles raised, lips curling over teeth as long as her fingers.
“I’m sorry I didn’t save you,” she confessed as the beast drew back on its hind legs. Spittle and the scents of death mixed with her blood billowed from the creature and Vynasha crouched, readying the dagger and her claws. She looked past the beast and could barely make out the light from the cottage. It would be enough.
The beast stumbled forward and brought its massive paw down over her much smaller form.
Vynasha swung her arm in an arc and a scream passed her throat, more wyldcat than woman.
Blood black as soot spilled over the snow and the beast roared. But it wasn’t enough to keep its paw from catching her shoulder and tossing her aside.
All the air was knocked from her lungs and her body was flung against a tree. She lost her grip on Ferox’s dagger, but it didn’t matter, not anymore. Not as she struggled to breathe, to see the blurred form of the beast run for her.
“Get up and fight!” Ferox’s voice seemed to cry out against the wind.
I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise, Wyll.
A sob passed her bloody lips, but she refused the call of magick in her blood. She couldn’t risk it, not again, not after her last mistake had nearly cost the lives of innocent children.
The beast’s hot breath was upon her and she waited for the inevitable.
Only she didn’t die the gruesome death she justly deserved.
A beautiful white wolf burst from the forest at her back so suddenly, the beast had no time to react.
All bodily pains seemed to dim to a separate place in Vynasha’s mind as the moonlit wolf attacked the beast with such speed her dulled senses struggled to keep up.
The beast turned about with a furious roar as the white creature bit its leg, its back, and its arm, ripping and tearing with frightening ease.
The beast unleashed a pained, pitiful groan as it fell. The end, when it came, was shielded by her savior.
Vynasha blinked, and the creature turned, its beautiful silver fur turned bloody. Bright green eyes seemed to brighten as the wolf approached her.
She blinked again, and the wolf was a white-cloaked man, his bare chest and arms covered in black blood.
“Vynasha?” The deep, rasping voice was familiar to her.
She smiled. “Balos.”
An unreadable look passed the alpha’s chiseled features. Yet those burning green eyes traced over her form with greater intensity. “You are injured, and have exhausted your power, little fool.”
Vynasha chuckled and winced at the pain in her shoulder. “Would you believe me if I told you I’ve felt worse?”
The corner of his mouth tugged in a ghost of a smirk. “Pain can be a great teacher, I have found.”
“You would, you old masochist.” She groaned as she braced her good arm against the tree at her back. The tree the beast had tossed her against. Oh, Saints, did everything ache.
“Would you accept my aide?” A pale, dirty hand entered her vision and Vynasha found that unreadable look again in his eyes.
Vynasha hesitated, thrill and dread in equal measure tugging at her heart. “How are you here? Is…the pack with you?”
Balos grimaced but kept his hand outstretched. “They continue the hunt.”
Vynasha frowned at his half-answer. “Aren’t you angry with me?”
“Did you not lead the beast away from the children with your own blood?”
“Yes…” Her vision blurred as her hand rose, dripping luminous violet, and the cloyingly sweet scent of her blood thickened in the air. When her vision cleared, Balos had wrapped an arm around her upper torso and drew her to stand against him.
“Easy,” he murmured as they began the slow progress back to her home.
Deep clawed tracks and broken bracken disturbed the once pristine forest, a clear path the way she had come. Vynasha shuddered and rasped, “The children?”
“The house locked them inside the moment you left.” His voice deepened, the edge of something she was too weary to understand.
“The house?” She blinked and they suddenly stood before the two storied frame.
“I see you have been busy in my absence,” Balos said.
Wood the same shade as the dark fir bark of the surrounding forest, with veins of violet and silver threaded throughout the house in runic patterns. Roses bloomed in defiance of winter, bursting from every crack and crevice. With every breath, she could feel the power coming from within, magick which seemed to resonate within her weak heartbeat.
“The children…” Vynasha listed to the right, but Balos caught her fall.
“They are well as can be. Vynasha? Open your eyes!” Balos commanded as her world tilted. Large hands caught her and tucked her into a comforting heat. “Help me! Vynasha, you must open the house or none can enter nor leave.”
They shifted and the cut in her hand burned as her palm was brought firmly against rough wood.
“Please, Beauty, just a little more and then you may rest, I swear it.”
Vynasha tried to speak the word, but her lips didn’t obey any more than her eyes.
Open.
“Beauty!”
Jennifer Silverwood 
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