Princess Elara and Prince Adrian's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

Every sunset, Prince Adrian became a beast, and Princess Elara had one job: hide him before anyone saw. An old curse did this to him. Break it, and he stayed a man forever. Fail, and the villagers would kill what they thought was a monster. Tonight, they came for it early. Elara heard the dogs first. Then torches broke through the trees. The villagers had grown tired of waiting. They hunted the beast now, every night, in packs. For a week she and Adrian could not search the woods openly. Every path led to men with spears. Adrian's shoulders were already changing. His voice dropped low. "They're close." "I know a place," Elara said. She grabbed his hand and ran. The abandoned house sat at the edge of a clearing. Its roof sagged. Faded paint peeled from the siding. A cat watched from the porch, and a dog lay by the broken steps. Neither ran. Elara had noticed them days ago and remembered. She shoved Adrian through the crooked door as the last light died. His body twisted. Claws split his fingers. Fur spread across his arms. Within seconds, the beast crouched where the prince had stood, breathing hard, eyes gone gold. Elara barred the door with a fallen beam. The torches spread across the clearing. Voices called for blood. "Search the house!" someone shouted. She needed them gone, and she needed them fooled. Inside, a wooden crate sat against the wall, packed with food and drink. Bread, fruit, bottles, even bright stones jumbled together like a peddler's haul. Someone had hidden it here and never returned. Elara grabbed an armful. She kicked the back door open and hurled bread and bottles into the far trees. Glass shattered against bark. The dog outside barked and bolted after the noise. "There! Behind the house!" a hunter yelled. The torches turned. The pack charged toward the crashing sound and the barking dog, away from the door where the beast waited. Elara pressed her back to the wall and did not breathe. Hooves and boots faded into the trees. The clearing went quiet. She had bought the night. Inside, the beast paced by the barred door. Elara sat against the crate and pulled a diamond from the mess. She turned it in the dim light. A drunk peddler would not pack jewels with sandwiches. Someone had gathered these to trade for something rare. Under the crate she found a folded paper, water-stained but readable. It was a buyer's list. At the bottom, one line: "Beast's blood. Pays triple." Elara's hands went cold. The villagers were frightened, yes. But someone was paying good coin for the beast, dead. The hunters were not only afraid. They were hired. She looked at Adrian, then at the door. Hiding was no longer enough. To break the curse, she first had to find who wanted his blood.