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ceruleansoleil · 3 months
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5000+ followers event. Thank you so much @werewolfcafe
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cupidjoy · 8 months
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how i see myself. btw
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alexturne · 1 month
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Moodboard for my fic "you've got control of everyone's eyes (including mine)"
pt. 4/5
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arofili · 9 months
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@tolkiengenweek day two | animals | a fox on business of his own
A fox passing through the wood on business of his own stopped several minutes and sniffed. ‘Hobbits!’ he thought. ‘Well, what next? I have heard of strange doings in this land, but I have seldom heard of a hobbit sleeping out of doors under a tree. Three of them! There’s something mighty queer behind this.’ He was quite right, but he never found out any more about it.
—The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, “Three is Company”
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heartshaped-lou · 1 year
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and time can always heal ya if you let it make its way into your bones
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indigocarnation · 6 months
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BLUEBIRD WALTZ by indigocarnation
Caught in the emotional turmoil caused by the growing pains of his Becoming, Will spirals. As always, Hannibal is there to catch him mid-air.
Read it on AO3 ❤️‍🔥
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ihophashbrowns · 11 months
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now playing:
shinee - dream girl
0:01 ❍─────── 3:01
↻ ⊲ Ⅱ ⊳ ↺
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vladiator · 11 months
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Lone: a werewolf love story
I'd heard the rumours about Silverwind Manor, but I’d never believed them. Everyone said that it was beset on all sides by wolves, which was impossible. There were no wolves in Windsor. 
Plot: A young woman gets a job as a servant in an old manor, but hears rumours that there is more to her new master than meets the eye. Setting: Victorian-era England Genre/Themes: Gothic romance, mystery, supernatural, dark romance Pairing: Female main character / male werewolf Length: 13240 words
You can also read this story on wattpad.
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I'd heard the rumours about Silverwind Manor, but I’d never believed them. Everyone said that it was beset on all sides by wolves, which was impossible. There were no wolves in Windsor. 
Lady Clara's hands shook as she handed me the keys. "The house, the stables, the workshop..." she listed. "There's only one horse to feed, but he's a rather large beast, and unruly. We’ll send a man twice a month to take care of any of the horse’s needs that you cannot."
I nodded, looking up at the manor that was to be my new home. 
"You know, we've never had a servant last more than a fortnight here. If you wish to go back on our agreement, I'll understand. I'll tell Lord Grey that you fell ill."
"I'll be fine, ma'am," I insisted. 
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, ma'am."
The old woman looked at me as if she pitied me. "I'll show you to your room."
She opened the door to the manor, and I tried to hold in a gasp. I'd worked in many houses before, but none were this grand. It was the type of manor one would see in the countryside, with three floors and many large windows. The light that came in from the open door and the windows illuminated the dust that floated in the air. That was the most remarkable thing about it, how dead it seemed. It was as if no one had walked through these doors in a century. The house looked incredibly old, but I'd heard from everyone at the train station that it was actually built only about fifty years ago. There was a slightly unease in the pit of my stomach, but I brushed my nerves aside.
The front room was dark and featured a gorgeous grand piano. A large staircase led to the next floor, and not too far from that staircase was the one to the top floor. I could see what appeared to be a large mirror hanging on the wall in the parlour, but it was covered by a thick blanket. 
I wondered to myself how on earth I was to keep this place by myself. I was the only servant, but, of course, I had only one lord to serve. 
"You can go everywhere in the house or on the property but the top floor. That is where the Lord of the house resides. He will come down when he needs something," explained Lady Clara, as she shut the heavy door behind us. "You likely won't see very much of him." 
Lady Clara led me to my room, which was on the ground floor, just beyond the staircase. She opened the wooden door, revealing a small room with a bed, a little desk, and a little dresser. The room was in disarray: the bedsheets were thrown across the floor, one of the drawers of the dresser had been pulled out, and there was a small pamphlet under the desk. 
"Oh," said Lady Clara quietly. She began to put things back in order, handing me the pamphlet. "The last servant we had left us rather suddenly. She had a family emergency. But there are your instructions, in this book. You are to serve Lord Grey breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day. Place his meal in the dining room when it is time and then go back to cleaning the house. He prefers to eat alone."
I nodded to show I was listening, but my mind was on the little manual, which had only ten or so pages and was all in handwriting that I recognized as Lady Clara's.
"My son is a very solitary man, hence the need for only one servant," said Lady Clara, as she began to exit the room. "If you need anything, I live down the road at Marbleton House. If you need to go to town, I'll have my driver take you in my carriage."
With that, Lady Clara left me to my room. I sat on the bed and studied the book of instructions, which included a rather detailed schedule for each day of the week. I wondered, What kind of a man needs his elderly mother to hire servants for him? Lord Grey's late father had been well-respected, and had owned many businesses and factories that were now owned by Lord Grey and managed by Lady Clara.
No one had actually seen the younger Grey since the elder’s unexpected death. That was when the rumours started, of wolves and bizarre creatures taking over the woods that surrounded Silverwind. But I was not the kind of girl to believe such things. 
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My first night was uneventful. The next morning, I went out to the stables to feed the horse and let him out into the pasture. The old building had fallen into disrepair, and the door squeaked when I opened it. 
The stables could have held a dozen horses, and probably once did, but now there was just one black stallion. The door to his stablebox had a name painted across it: Onyx. A beautiful stone, and a beautiful horse. But as soon as he saw me, Onyx reared up and whinnied. 
"It's all right, I'm just bringing you hay," I said, my voice trembling slightly. This horse was a sight to behold: black as night and with a wavy mane. 
I threw his food into his pen and watched him devour it almost instantly. When he seemed to be done, I pulled his rein off a shelf and unlocked his door. My intention was to lead him to the pasture, as my instructions stated, but Onyx had another idea. He burst through the open door and ran out, knocking me over in the process. I saw him gallop toward the pasture as I pulled myself out of the dirt. 
I sighed, and set about the rest of my morning tasks. 
The rest of my first day at Silverwind Manor flew by. I spent the majority of my day exploring the property and cleaning as I went. By the time I prepared dinner, I realised that what Lady Clara had said was true: I was unlikely to see the Lord whose house I lived and worked in. I set each meal out as stated in the manual, and less than an hour later I would find that it had been eaten. I never heard a footstep nor a breath, and the house stayed eerily quiet except for my own humming. 
As I finished making dinner, I looked through the window facing the pasture, and saw Onyx taking himself back to the stables. I thought it rather odd, so I exited through the back door and headed that way. The autumn evening was chilly, and as I opened the stable door I heard the sound of a door slamming. I rushed inside, but just found Onyx in his box where he belonged. 
I gave Onyx more hay, then left him where he was. I decided to walk around the front of the manor and check the postbox. When I made it to the front of the house, I saw two little boys standing at the end of the cobblestone road that led to Silverwind Manor. 
“Hello, there,” I called to them, wondering if they were relatives of the Grey family. They were too far away for me to get a good look at their clothing. 
The smaller boy looked at the bigger one, who shook his head. 
I walked toward them, and saw that they were not dressed as if they were part of nobility. “Can I help you?”
The smaller boy ran up to me, and the bigger one chased after him. When the little boy reached me, he whispered, “Don’t you know that house is haunted?” 
“Phillip,” the older boy scolded. "You'll get in trouble with Mother.” 
“It’s all right,” I chuckled. "What makes you say it’s haunted?”
Little Phillip replied, “There’s monsters in there. I know it. I saw it in the window one time.” 
“We have to get home,” said the older brother, tugging at Phillip’s shirt collar. 
Phillip finally gave in, and the two headed off in the direction of Lady Clara’s Manor. I watched them for a moment, then headed to the postbox to check for mail. Haunted, I thought. How silly.
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Two weeks came and went, and I had still not yet seen my boss. I was almost beginning to dislike him for it – I cooked all of his meals and kept his house in order, but I was clearly unworthy of his company, even if for a moment. I had worked for some rather rude people before, but at least I could see them. The little boy’s words echoed in my mind, about the house being haunted. Was I serving dinner to a ghost?
No, no, I thought, shaking the thought out of my head. You’re being preposterous. But I couldn't stop wondering. Why was Lord Grey so reclusive? Why would the Greys hire a maid to live in Silverwind Manor if nobody ever came here? What was on the top floor? 
As I lay down to sleep on my fourteenth night there, I felt as if I was bursting at the seams with questions. Nothing made any sense. I could hear an odd scratching sound from above me, which made me slightly uneasy but I decided to assume it was just mice. 
Something was going on in this house. 
The next morning, I set Lord Grey’s breakfast down on the table only a few minutes before I expected him. Of course, I never witnessed him eat, or even come down the stairs, but I could tell that he was a very punctual man. Breakfast was at eight o’clock, and by a quarter past eight I would find the dining room empty and the food gone. 
 I scurried back to my room and waited. At five minutes past, I left, candlestick in hand. I climbed the stairs to the next floor, and stood for a moment at the base of the stairs that went up to the top floor. I inched my way up these stairs, as if the floor would give way at any moment, sending me tumbling to my death. 
The top floor looked similar to the second. There was a long corridor with a few rooms off of it, and I hastily entered the first room I saw. It was a study, and it was like any other study except for the fact that the windows were boarded up and painted over. No light could get into the room other than from the door and the candles, which were all out. I did see a few vials scattered around on the floor, the type one would see in a laboratory. 
 I shut the door and moved to the next room, which I found to be a bathroom. It lacked a window, and also lacked a mirror. I could tell that there once was a mirror above the sink, but it had since been removed. 
 I checked the next door down the hall and found it to be empty. The windows were also boarded up. I wondered, Are they trying to keep something out, or something in?
Before I could adventure on to the next room, I heard a thump from downstairs. I immediately started running back to my room, the whole time imagining a furious Lord Grey chasing after me. Not that I knew what he looked like, of course. In my mind I pictured the painting of Lord Grey's father that hung in the sitting room. 
When I reached the ground floor I realised the thump I had heard was the door knocker. I went to answer the door and found one of Lady Clara's coachmen standing there.
"Lady Clara Grey requests your presence for tea this evening," stated the coachman. "I will be here at half past three. Please be ready and presentable."
I nodded, and the man turned on his heels and left. I shut the door and, almost absent-mindedly, went into the dining room, where I found that Lord Grey's breakfast had been eaten. I had likely only narrowly missed him.
"Ah, Bridget, come in, have a seat," said Lady Clara, as she gestured for me to sit in the chair opposite her. I had not been in her parlour since she'd interviewed me for my job at Silverwind Manor, and it was honestly rather nice to be back. Her home had more colour, more life, than the one I was currently residing in. 
I sat down, and Lady Clara continued, "You have somehow managed what all of our previous servants could not."
"What's that, my lady?" 
"You've stayed two weeks." Lady Clara poured me a cup of tea. "I'm glad you're as strong as you seem.”
"Thank you, ma'am."
"I don't know what happened to all the other girls, truthfully. I think being alone in that house all day leads to a stressed mind.”
I nodded. "It doesn't bother me too much. But I do find it a bit bizarre that I have yet to meet Lord Grey."
"He is a solitary creature, as I've mentioned before.”
"In my previous jobs, ma'am, it often felt like I couldn't get away from the Lord or Lady I served. It does make me wonder–”
"It's not your place to wonder," Lady Clara cut me off. 
"I'm sorry, ma'am." 
Lady Clara paused for a moment, then sighed. "My son has the same affliction that killed his father four years ago. It leads him to be rather... antisocial."
"Affliction?" I asked. "I thought your husband died in a hunting accident."
"Hm? Oh, yes." Lady Clara took a large sip from her teacup. 
"At least that's what the townspeople say."
"Yes, yes. That's what we… yes." Lady Clara quickly changed the subject. "Where did you say you were from?"
"The south of Ayrshire."
"You don't sound like you're from Ayrshire." 
"I've been working around here for a few years now, ma'am. Since I was eighteen."
"And how old are you now?"
"Twenty-three."
"Ah, yes. You’re almost a decade younger than my son…" Lady Clara trailed off, and handed me a plate of crumpets. “I almost feel guilty making someone as young as you spend all your time in that lonely old house. Feel free to visit me any time.”
I softly laughed off her remarks. Before I could say anything, I was interrupted by the sound of a child squealing. I turned around in my seat and saw two young boys playing in the corridor. I recognized them as being Phillip and his brother, the boys I’d seen walking, who’d told me there were monsters at Silverwind Manor. Soon, a young woman came to them and ushered them away.
Lady Clara chuckled.”That was Phillip and Baxter, the sons of my servant Elizabeth. They're sweet boys, if not a bit rowdy. Just like how my son was.”
“I believe I’ve met them before.”
“Yes, they enjoy taking walks down the road. If they wander too close to Silverwind, just send them home.”
I almost told her that there was no worry of that happening, as the boys looked terrified of the house, but I held my tongue. 
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Everything was the same for another week. I remained in the house, Lord Grey remained a mystery, and Onyx the horse put himself back in his pen every evening, requiring only basic care. Being in that gloomy mansion was starting to bore me: all of the lords and ladies I'd previously worked for never seemed to run out of tasks for me. Clean the windows, dust the library, wash the rugs, do the laundry. I did have a schedule at Silverwind Manor, but for the most part I was left to my own devices, free to roam wherever I pleased. Except to the top floor, of course. 
I hummed to myself as I scrubbed Lord Grey's laundry. I was starting to form an image of him in my mind, based on his clothing. He seemed to wear nice coats around the house, despite never having guests. Perhaps he was trying to retain some feeling of normalcy while being trapped inside due to his "affliction."
I wrung out his coat and prepared to hang it on the line. I looked up to the house, up to the top floor, and it did seem as if every window was blocked off. I thought back to the little boy, little Phillip, who said he saw monsters in the window. 
I looked over toward the meadow where Onyx was running. He galloped as if he had somewhere to be, as if he wouldn't eventually come to a fence. Still watching Onyx, I reached over to pull a shirt out of the basket, but felt something odd. 
The shirt was covered in dried blood. The blood was caked into the buttons and covering the sleeves. I had no idea if it was from a human or an animal. I looked back up to the top floor windows, and I swear one of them looked darker than before. My mind is playing tricks on me, I thought. 
I went back to washing the clothes, but it took me quite a while to make the stained shirt look even somewhat close to how it probably looked before. This blood had to belong to Lord Grey; after all, he never left the house, and no one ever visited. Unless, of course, there was a secret entrance I was unaware of. A part of me wanted to run away, but another part of me wanted to understand what was happening here. All of my answers were on the top floor with the lord of the house. 
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 The next morning, I did what I'd done the week before. Eight o'clock, breakfast on the table. Five minutes later, I was staring at the stairs that went to the top floor. Just moments before, I'd been confident with my little investigation, but now I was questioning myself. I was so very curious, but was my curiosity worth losing my job over?
I stepped away from that set of stairs, turning my back to them. I put my hands on the bannister and looked down on the front room. I absent-mindedly ran my hands along the wooden bannister until I felt something odd, something I'd never noticed before. There was a slight crack in the wood, as if something had been forcefully pushed against it. The light from the windows was dim, but just enough for me to be able to trace the break in the wood with my fingers. 
"You must be Miss Bridget," said a voice from behind me.
Startled, I turned around as quickly as possible. At the top of the stairs stood a man in a dark coat. He was tall, and his position a flight of stairs above me made him seem larger than life. 
"You must be Lord Grey," I replied. 
"That I am," he said with a chuckle. His voice was incredibly low, with a bit of a roughness to it. He began to step down the stairs. "I'm sorry I startled you."
"It's all right," I said, but my voice was barely above a whisper.
"I'm not too late for breakfast, am I?"
"No, my lord," I said. "I've just set it out."
"Good. You're the best cook this house has seen in a while." Lord Grey was now standing right in front of me, yet still towering above me. The house was dark, but I could now see him clearer than before. His hair was light brown and slightly unkempt. He had hazel eyes, and what little light came in from the windows at the front of the house made those hazel eyes shimmer gold. He was oddly muscular for a lord, especially for one who didn't seem to leave his house. 
But Lord Grey’s most astounding feature, which I could barely see in the dim light, was the set of three scars deeply embedded in his face. 
"Thank you, my lord." 
Lord Grey chuckled softly, but at what I do not know. He continued walking down the stairs, and I watched him disappear into the dining room.
When he was gone, I let out a sigh of relief. 
What just happened? I wondered. Did he know I was trying to go to the top floor? What were those scars from? I looked down at my hands, and tried to picture them slashing at a man's face. No, Lord Grey's scars were too large, too deep, to be made by a person. Perhaps whatever animal killed his father also wounded him. But what kind of animal? A bear? 
I felt a strange twinge of fear in my chest. Something was telling me to run. A feeling of uneasiness swept over me. What caused those scars? 
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I did not encounter Lord Grey again that day, and I was secretly thankful. There was something so strange about him, something I couldn't quite put into words. 
I woke up the next morning to find scratches on the stairs. It seemed as if some sort of creature had scurried down the staircase, leaving a trail of indentions in its wake. The marks were not perfect, so I could make no guesses as to what left them. 
I shrugged it off, and continued to head up the stairs to the place Lord Grey always left his laundry. When I picked the basket up, I noticed an odd smell. The wicker basket that held the lord's clothing reeked of iron, oak, and sweat.
When I set it down next to the washing bucket outside, I could see the source of the iron scent – blood. Just like the week before, Lord Grey's clothes were caked with a layer of dried blood. One of the shirts was also torn in a few places, mostly near the seams. 
I couldn't wash the shirt or hang it to dry if it was torn, lest I rip it further. I took it back inside, and straight to my room. I pulled out my small sewing kit and set to work.
If I ever see Lord Grey again, I thought, I must ask him about this. 
The last time I found blood on his clothes, I had decided to assume he'd cut himself while shaving. But that was improbable, and the amount of blood on this shirt was enough to turn my stomach, so whatever it came from must have suffered greatly. Perhaps a creature found its way into the manor, and Lord Grey killed it, but not before it left those marks on the stairs. But wouldn't that have woken me up? 
I didn’t know whether I should be concerned, whether I should bring it up to Lady Clara. The lady had not visited Silverwind Manor since she first hired me, but she sent notes to me in the mail. More often than not, her note was the only thing in the postbox, which I was required to check each day. The day before, I had received a note saying that she would come by Silverwind Manor in her carriage and take me to the shops so that I could buy whatever I needed. I expected her later that day. 
I finished up the shirt and headed back outside. 
Lady Clara’s carriage arrived right after lunchtime. “Good afternoon,” she said, as I climbed inside.
“Hello, ma’am,” I replied. I sat next to her, and the carriage immediately started down the road. 
“How has everything been this week, dear?”
“It’s been all right, I suppose. I finally got to meet Lord Grey.”
“Oh, that’s good.”
“I only spoke with him for a short moment, but it was nice to finally put a face to a name.” 
 Lady Clara nodded. “He reminds me so much of his father. I miss Rupert every day, sometimes it’s hard for me to look at my son…” She trailed off for a moment, her eyes fixed on Silverwind Manor as it grew smaller in the distance. ”That’s partly why I built a house for myself after my husband died. I couldn't stand being at Silverwind any longer.”
I desperately wanted for her to tell me everything I wanted to know, but I couldn't put any of my questions into words. Before I could say anything, Lady Clara snapped out of her little retrospective trance and handed me a coin purse, which I could tell was full of money. ”This should be enough money for all of your groceries,” she said. “Buy enough for two weeks.”
“Yes, ma’am. May I purchase some thread as well?”
“Of course. What do you need thread for?”
“This morning I had to repair one of Lord Grey’s shirts, as it was torn. I ran out of thread when I finished.”
“His shirt was torn? Why? How?”
“I don’t know, ma’am.”
“Was there anything else odd with the shirt?”
How did she know? I wondered. I knew I had to be honest, so I replied, “There was some blood on the shirt.”
Lady Clara gasped, but somehow didn’t seem surprised, just irritated. She looked away from me, and said nothing until the carriage arrived at the marketplace. As the carriage stopped, Lady Clara gestured for me to get out, and said, “I will be back in fifteen minutes.”
"I thought you were going to come to the market with me,” I said.
“I have something to attend to,” the Lady replied. She shooed me toward the carriage door, and I got out. As my feet hit the cobblestone street, I heard Lady Clara call to her driver, “Back to Silverwind at once.”
I closed the door and the carriage sped off. I sighed. Whatever was going on at Silverwind Manor, Lady Clara knew about it, but she clearly didn’t want me knowing about it. I turned to the marketplace, my little basket in hand, and began to shop. 
As I passed by a stall selling apples, I heard a woman whisper, “Was that Lady Clara Grey?”
The woman’s husband whispered back, “No, no, couldn’t be. Lady Clara can’t keep a servant.”
I shuffled past them, toward a farmer selling potatoes. The marketplace was rather busy, and the butcher shop across the street was even busier, but that was really where I needed to go. As I approached the potatoes, the seller smiled slightly and said, "You’re new around here.”
“That I am,” I admitted. “I've been working at Silverwind Manor for a little over a month now."
“Old Silverwind?” asked the man. “Not a very nice place for a young lady like you, is it?”
”It’s fine, just a bit quiet.”
“You’ve heard all the rumours about that place, haven't you? About the wolves in the forest, the monster behind the curtains?”
“I’ve heard a lot of things, none of which seem to be true,” I replied, but I could hear the lack of confidence in my own voice. Maybe all the things I’d been told were true. But the rumours didn’t explain much; in fact, they only complicated the mystery. “How much for ten small potatoes?”
“Take them,” said the farmer. He had the same look of pity that Lady Clara had had when she hired me. "They’re free for you.”
My eyebrows shot up, but I thanked him, took the potatoes and left. 
The couple I'd passed by earlier was still gossiping about the Greys. As I headed toward the butcher, I heard the woman say, "Nobody ever did find the last servant, did they?"
Her husband replied, "No, her family's still looking for her." 
Lady Clara had told me their last servant left suddenly, due to a family emergency. I ignored the conversation I was overhearing and continued toward the butcher shop. 
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 The next morning, I woke to find Lord Grey sitting in the parlour, reading a book. 
I felt a bit awkward. I was very used to being the only one awake at this hour, so to see him there, fully dressed, made me feel uncharacteristically shy. The candelabra next to the armchair was lit, giving me a better look at the man I'd been living with for three weeks. He was large, muscular, and there was something rather unsettling about him, something I couldn’t name. 
As silent as I thought I was being, Lord Grey looked up at me as if he'd heard me walk in. "Good morning," he said, rather casually for our second meeting. 
"Good morning, my lord," I replied. "I'll have breakfast ready in a few minutes."
"I'm in no rush," Lord Grey said with a wave of his gloved hand. 
"Have you any plans for the day, sir?"
"No," he said. He set his book on the side table. "My mother informed me that I need to be more social, and that I can't just hide away upstairs all the time.”
“Oh?”
“She visited while you were at the marketplace. She spoke highly of you. She said there weren't many girls like you, and that I shouldn’t scare you off like I did the last few servants. But, of course, it was my being ‘social’ that scared them away.” 
“I like to think I don’t scare easily, my lord.”
Lord Grey chuckled softly. “Good.”
I awkwardly nodded, then curtsied, and scurried off to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. When I shut the kitchen door behind me, I felt oddly safe, as if Lord Grey’s mere presence had been a threat to me. I shook the nervous thoughts out of my head. He’s just a man, I thought. You’re letting the rumours get to you. 
I did not see Lord Grey again that day, and I guessed that he'd gone back to his ghostly ways, despite his mother's demands. The next morning, when I went out to feed Onyx, I noticed that the stallion was in need of a grooming. He had leaves, twigs, and dirt in his mane. I grabbed the brush off the shelf, but Onyx immediately whinnied and reared up. 
"I just need to brush out your hair," I whispered, almost begging. But the horse would not stand still. 
“Let me,” said a gruff voice from behind me. I turned to see Lord Grey standing there. His unexpected presence startled me, but I was able to stifle my surprise. 
Lord Grey reached out his gloved hand, and Onyx calmed immediately. Grey petted the horse's face softly, with a gentleness I did not expect from such an intimidating man. 
I accidentally let out a small gasp. "I’ve never seen him this calm,” I admitted. "He seems to have a mind of his own.”
“Most creatures do,” said Lord Grey. "But most people are so hellbent on taming them that they miss the personality.”
"You're fond of animals, my lord?" 
"Perhaps, I don't know. I empathise with them. I understand their need to run free."
With Onyx calmed, I was able to brush the leaves out of his mane, as well as brush his black coat. He was a gorgeous horse, something I had not realised until now, because I had only ever seen him in movement. He was staring right at Lord Grey. I looked at the lord too, and in the daylight I could see how green his eyes really were. Even though Lord Grey wasn't looking at me, I felt mesmerised by those hazel eyes. After a moment, I began to look at other parts of his face: the light freckles across his nose, how soft his lips looked. 
For the first time, I did not see his scars. I saw the man, the man who stood taller than the large stallion I was grooming. He wore a bespoke suit just as he did the other two times I'd seen him. 
I felt a strange burst of confidence and I asked, "Lord Grey, may I ask you something?"
His eyes flicked over to me. "Yes, anything."
"Your clothes – your laundry, I mean. It seems that every week at least one shirt is ripped, or covered in…" I trailed off, realising that I was not going to like whatever answer he gave me.
Lord Grey looked down, almost as if he was ashamed. "Yes, my mother told me you were concerned about that," he said. "The top floor is unfinished, so often when I wander around in the dark I bump into things and tear my clothes and skin. I am sorry I did not explain this to you earlier."
Unfinished? I thought. On my secret excursion to the top floor, nothing seemed to be under construction. And Lord Grey moved with confidence, as if he was entirely sure of himself. It was hard to believe that this man could stumble around in the dark. The look on his face that I mistook for shame was actually him coming up with a lie – or remembering the lie his mother told him to tell. 
I simply nodded in response.
When I was done brushing Onyx, Lord Grey and I led Onyx to the pasture. The horse walked alongside his owner, and seemed almost hesitant when Grey opened the gate for him. But after a moment, Onyx burst into a full run, galloping as fast as his powerful legs could move. 
 I watched Onyx for a minute, then looked to Lord Grey, only to find that he was already looking at me. I smiled sheepishly, and the lord and I silently walked back to the manor. 
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The next morning, Lord Grey was reading in his chair again.
“Good morning, my Lord,” I said to him. I almost found it annoying to see that he was awake before I was, as if he didn’t even sleep. I silently decided to try to wake up earlier. 
“Good morning,” he said. He put his book down and looked up at me. “Anything interesting planned today?”
I shook my head. “Just my regular chores, sir. I don’t really do much. Have you anything planned?” 
“No, I don’t.”
“But you’re always dressed so nicely, like you’re going out.”
 “You think I look nice?” he asked with a smirk. “I very rarely leave this house anymore. I wear this suit so that I can at least pretend that somebody is expecting me somewhere.” 
“Perhaps we could take a trip into town, or to your mother’s house for tea.”
“Hmm,” said Lord Grey. It already seemed apparent that Grey was the most honest man I’d ever worked for, which was remarkable because he always seemed to be holding something back, while speaking openly at the same time. “Whenever I leave the house during the day, people stare at me as if I’m a monster. And my mother is really no better.”
"Oh," I said quietly. 
I wondered if Lord Grey knew what people said about him, or that little Phillip, his mother’s servant’s son, believed this manor contained a monster on the top floor. Surely he must know: I’d never seen such a large, brawny man seem so shy. It seemed as if he was desperate for me to feel comfortable around him, because his previous servants did not. But he had spent so much time on his own that he wasn’t sure how to make me feel at ease. 
Grey shifted awkwardly in his seat, then attempted to change the topic. “How have you been enjoying your time here so far?”
“It’s a lovely manor,” I replied. "I've never seen one as grand as this."
"It gets stifling after a while, trust me."
I didn't know what to say, so I simply nodded, then headed toward the kitchen. 
"Miss Bridget," Lord Grey called after me. I stopped walking. "Make enough breakfast for yourself as well. We can eat together and I can get to know you better." 
I nodded again, then resumed walking away. That's odd, I thought, I've never had a lord or lady want to get to know me. Most want to pretend I don't exist. In my short time knowing him so far, Lord Grey did seem more humble than most, but also more lonely than most. 
After breakfast was ready, I brought it to the dining room, where Grey was already waiting for me. We sat and ate together, and despite my reservations about him, had a lovely conversation, in which I learnt very little but said very much. He asked me about where I grew up and my childhood, which I happily recounted for him. I found him surprisingly easy to talk to, and I almost didn't want breakfast to end.
When I laid down to sleep that night, I couldn't help but wonder if Lord Grey truly was a mystery that needed to be solved. Perhaps the rumours were just rumours, and he was just a man. 
Suddenly, I heard a long and lonesome howl come from outside. It sent a shiver down my spine. It's just a dog, I told myself. There are no wolves in Windsor. 
Just as I was placing his breakfast on the table the next morning, Lord Grey entered the dining room. "It seems I am running a bit late today," he joked as he sat down. 
"Or I am running a bit early," I replied. 
 Grey smiled at me with a rather lopsided grin. I smiled back, but then noticed he had a small cut on his lip, as well as a bigger one above his eyebrow. 
"Are you all right, my lord?" I asked. "You seem to be bleeding."
Lord Grey brought his hand to his face and felt his injuries. When he saw the drops of blood on his white glove, he replied, "It seems that I am."
"Let me take care of it," I said, as I pulled a handkerchief from my apron pocket. Grey tried to wave me off but almost immediately acquiesced, and he allowed me to press the handkerchief to his bleeding forehead as he sat at the table. As soon as I touched him, I could see and feel his muscles relaxing. It was as if he had not been touched kindly in a long time, as if he had never expected it again. 
After I was sure the bleeding had stopped, I stepped away from Lord Grey. I joked, "Whatever it is you do up there, you really should be careful." 
"I know, I don't need any more scars." 
"Oh, that's not what I–"
Lord Grey chuckled. "It's all right. I know I am not as pretty a sight as you are."
My heart fluttered a bit. 
"I got these scars on the day my father died. He was attacked by a large beast, so I suppose I am lucky to be alive." Lord Grey sighed, and lowered his voice. "Sometimes I wonder if my mother would rather I hadn't been lucky." 
"Your mother cares for you deeply," I insisted. "She just misses your father. She told me you are too much like him."
"I hope so. My father was a good man, and the town loved him."
"The town could love you too."
"They wouldn't," said Lord Grey, his voice sombre yet stern. 
 I did not know how to respond, so I changed the subject. "Would you like me to wash your gloves? They have blood from where you touched your forehead – I can take them right now, if you wish." 
"I don't want to trouble you–"
"I have to do laundry today anyway, my lord. It really is no trouble."
 Lord Grey looked hesitant for a moment, then slowly took off his gloves and handed them to me. I could now see why he wore them all the time: his fingers were cut up and bruised as if he'd been in a fight the night before.
 I took the gloves and curtsied, before running off to the kitchen.
As I washed the laundry later that day, I found myself looking up at the top floor. My curiosity was weighing on me. Lord Grey said the top floor was still under construction, still unfinished, but that made little sense. The house was older than him and therefore much older than me, so why would it not be finished after all these years? And why would anyone live up there, when the house had so many other rooms?
I looked down at the clothes I was washing, and found small rips. Nothing makes any sense, I thought. I couldn't stand being lied to. But I'd worked in many houses before and I knew my place, and I knew that there were some things a servant did not need to know. 
But the claw marks on the stairs. The missing servant. The broken bannister. The various rumours. 
I was confused by Lord Grey, but I also could not deny to myself that I felt oddly drawn to him. Perhaps my curious nature was getting away from me. Perhaps it was his green eyes that looked as if they'd seen a lot of sorrow. 
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"Good morning, Miss Bridget," said Lord Grey as I came out of my room to start the day. 
"Good morning, Lord Grey."
I began to make my way toward the kitchen, but I stopped when I heard Lord Grey quietly correct me. He said, "Arthur."
I turned around. "Excuse me, my lord?"
"My name is Arthur. There's only the two of us in this house, you might as well call me Arthur."
I smiled and nodded. "It's a nice name."
Lord Grey— Arthur — smiled a lopsided grin, and I continued to the kitchen. He was beginning to trust me, in his own strange way. 
As I walked through the house I was briefly startled by my own reflection - the blanket that had previously covered the mirror in the parlour had been removed. I thought this must be a good sign, a sign that he was trusting me, and himself. He was finally feeling comfortable enough to spend more time downstairs, instead of locked away. Perhaps he was growing used to his own face, just as I was. 
After breakfast, I went out to the stables to take care of Onyx. When I went into the stables, I was surprised to see that he was completely calm, and looking past me. I turned around and almost jumped out of my skin when I saw Lord Grey standing behind me, towering over me. I gasped loudly, causing Grey to frown. 
"I'm sorry I startled you," he said. "It was not my intention to scare you." 
"I'm all right," I said, despite how hard my heart was beating in my chest. 
"I just wanted to see if you needed any help with the horse again."
"I'll take any help I can get," I said with a laugh. "Onyx is a handful."
"He's always been that way." Arthur smiled. "Even as a foal, he was unruly."
"He seems to like you, though." 
 Arthur shrugged. "I've just known him his whole life, but my mother always said I had a way with animals." He paused to open the door to Onyx's stable box and let me in before him. As soon as Onyx saw Arthur, he stood still. After a moment, Arthur asked, "Would you like to go for a ride?"
"A ride?" I asked. "On Onyx?"
"We have reins and a saddle in the storage room. We could take a lap around the grounds–"
"Yes," I said. I wasn't sure what had come over me. If I were to be honest with myself, I was starting to feel stifled in that old house, just as Arthur had said. Arthur was the only person I’d spoken to since I went to the market, and despite how large the manor was I still could not shake the feeling of confinement, nor the feeling that there was something lurking around every corner, and that I was just barely escaping it. 
Arthur smiled. “I’ll get the saddle,” he said. 
He was gone and back rather quickly, with what almost seemed like excitement in his step. At that point, I realised Arthur was as grateful for our blooming friendship as I was. I couldn’t imagine spending a life alone in that house. 
 Once Onyx was saddled up, Arthur turned to me and asked, “Are you ready?”
I nodded hesitantly. 
Without saying anything else, Arthur grabbed me by my waist and lifted me up and onto the large horse. My heart skipped a beat at his every touch. I had not ridden a horse in quite a while, but I still automatically knew how to position myself on Onyx. Arthur took the reins and led the stallion through the empty stables and outside, where we began walking around the manor.
After walking a bit, Arthur dropped the reins and let Onyx walk freely. He walked toward the front of the house, near the road. A carriage passed by us, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Arthur wave hesitantly at it. But Onyx kept trotting along, his speed gradually increasing.
Soon we were at a gallop, with Arthur chasing along, almost matching Onyx’s pace. The smile on his scarred face distracted me from wondering how a man could run as fast as a horse. The wind through my hair made me feel as if I was flying, and I almost didn't want to stop, but Onyx eventually began to slow down, and Arthur took hold of his reins once again. 
We returned to the stables, and Arthur extended his gloved hand to me in order to help me off the horse. As I began to climb down, Onyx shifted himself, making me lose my footing in the stirrup and slip. Arthur grabbed me before I could properly fall, and he held me for a brief moment, his arms around me and our chests nearly touching. I was surprised at how comfortable I felt in the arms of the man who used to terrify me. He was not a monster, but a mystery. We both laughed awkwardly, but when Arthur turned to take the reins off of Onyx, I saw a smile on his face.
 Arthur went to put the reins and saddle away, and I gave Onyx some extra hay as thanks. When I first met him I thought he was unrideable, but there was something about Arthur that made Onyx serene, as if they were kindred spirits. I was now realising that things are not always what they seem, whether for better or for worse. 
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The next morning, I made my way down the hall toward the great room, but stopped when I heard a familiar voice. 
"What did you think you were doing, Arthur? You can't gallivant all over Windsor," cried Lady Clara, her voice an angry whisper.
"We never left the grounds."
"I could see you from the road. If I could see you, anyone could have."
"Then let them see me!"
At first I thought Lady Clara was offended that Arthur had let me ride Onyx, then I realised that that wasn't the issue. "The safest place for you is inside. The town has not forgotten the last servant."
The last servant? I thought. Lady Clara had told me she left town in a hurry, but I'd overheard people at the market saying her family did not know where she was. 
"What happened to her was an accident, you know that. She fell." 
"And what was she running from when she fell? You, Arthur! You and your sickness!"
 The cracks in the bannister. The girl must have run into the bannister, breaking the top of it and falling over the balcony, down to the ground floor. But why would she be running from Arthur? What was this sickness?
 I could hear Arthur sigh. "There is still no harm in letting someone ride the horse."
"I gave up the idea of a normal life years ago. As soon as your father died I knew there was no hope for you to be normal, to exist amongst everyone else, to wed. The least you could do is to not let anyone see how much of an embarrassment my only son is."
I heard the front door close. I had never expected Lady Clara to be so cruel, but clearly she knew something I did not. But I couldn't fathom her acting this way toward her son. 
I waited a moment, then walked into the great room, unsure what to expect. Arthur was sitting in his favourite chair, reading a book, just as he often did. 
"Good morning, Bridget," he said, as if the conversation I'd just eavesdropped on had never taken place.
"Good morning, Arthur," I replied. I saw him crack a small smile when I said his name.
"Do we have any plans for the day?" 
"No, my lord, I don't believe we do." 
"Then let's make some," Arthur said, as he stood up.
I was shocked, but tried to hide it. "Where do you wish to go?"
"I don't know, I just need to get out of this house."
"Well, perhaps you can decide on a place while I make breakfast," I replied with a smile, as I started toward the kitchen. 
Arthur stepped in front of me, blocking my path. "Or, we could have breakfast together," he said. "There's an inn not too far from here."
"But how will we get there?"
"There's an old carriage out back, we can strap it to Onyx and go to town."
"Are you sure?"
"Why not?" Arthur's grin was wide, devilish, and irresistible. "Go put on your nicest hat, or whatever it is ladies wear to breakfast. Meet me at the stables in a few minutes."
I realised that I couldn't really protest without giving away that I'd heard his conversation with his mother, so I complied. I went back to my room and changed clothes as quickly as I could. All of my clothes were simple and modest; after all, no servant ever expects to dine with their master. But I put on the dress I wore the least, and brushed my hair thoroughly. I couldn't deny that I was excited. 
By the time I arrived at the stables, Onyx and the carriage were ready to go, and Arthur was waiting patiently for me, with a pleased look on his face. Without saying a word, he extended his hand, which I gladly took, and he helped me onto the front of the carriage, then climbed on himself. For a fleeting moment, I felt like I was not his servant, but perhaps his wife. I pushed the silly thought out of my head. 
Arthur took the reins and we started down the road. It somehow felt both strange and magical to be next to him, to feel his warmth. 
When we arrived at the inn, we immediately headed inside, only to find ourselves greeted by cold stares. I whispered, "Are you sure this was a good idea?"
Arthur didn't respond, but gently rubbed my back to calm me, which only made my heart flutter more. 
We sat down at a table. I felt terribly awkward, knowing that an inn full of people were looking at me, but I tried to stay focused on Arthur. The entire inn was silent, except for the faint sound of someone furiously cooking in the kitchen. 
After a moment, the innkeeper came up to us holding two plates of food. Before we could say anything, she set the plates on the table and said to Arthur, "This was your father's favourite, my lord. And for your lady, we've prepared your mother’s favourite."
Arthur thanked the innkeeper, and she nervously scurried back to the kitchen.
"How strange," I said. 
"Which part is strange – the fact that everyone is acting afraid of me, or that we were served the food my parents used to order."
I quietly replied, "To be honest, my lord, the fact that your mother ever went to an inn is what surprises me the most."
Arthur laughed. "My father was always more humble than her. He loved this town, but she was perfectly content to rot away in an old manor for forever, rather than mingle with peasants, as she called them." He picked up one of the many sausages on his plate and took a large bite.
"I've only ever heard good things about your father, I don't understand why people don't love you the same way." 
"We're two different people," Arthur said with a shrug. "My father was a kind man, but also very logical, he liked to stop and think about things. I'm a bit more… impulsive. Or at least I was, before he died."
I saw a chance and I gingerly took it, lowering my voice and asking, "What happened to your father?"
Arthur sighed. "We were… hunting. And a beast killed him."
"What kind of beast? A bear?"
"A wolf."
"I always thought there were no wolves around here." 
"There used to be some. At least two. But now just one."
“Just one?”
“One lone wolf," Arthur said, his eyes cast down. "I killed the other.” 
Arthur’s tone was not particularly rude, but I could tell that it was better if I stopped asking questions. I decided to awkwardly change the subject, casually saying, "You know, I don't know Windsor very well."
Arthur immediately picked up on what I was asking, and a smile grew on his face. "Would you like me to show you around?" 
"If you would like to." 
"I would." He reached across the table and took my hand. "I know a place I think you'll like."
My heart almost skipped a beat. I felt multiple conflicting feelings at once: I knew that having breakfast with my boss was inappropriate, and that Lady Clara would not be happy if she found out, but I also felt almost addicted to Arthur's company. All the times I was uneasy and fearful around him now seemed nonsensical to me. 
We finished our meal, and as we got up to leave, we discovered that the inn was now empty. We laughed about how odd it was that we didn't notice anyone leaving, and then we boarded the carriage again. 
"So, where are we going?" I asked. 
Arthur smiled as Onyx started to pull the carriage along. "You'll see."
We drove along the winding roads of Windsor for a while, through a small glade, eventually reaching a secluded meadow. "Here we are," said Arthur. "This is where I used to play as a child."
I joked, "All that room in the manor, and you played here?" 
"Yes. My father would take me here and we would run around in the grass. Come on." Arthur got out of the carriage and extended his gloved hand. I took it, and stepped down to the ground. He did not let go of my hand, as one might expect, but instead guided me toward the sea of wildflowers before us.
"It's much nicer here in the summer," said Arthur. He sat down on the ground, and I sat next to him. The autumn wind was chilly, but somehow I did not mind it at all. 
"We should come here more often," I said. "You've mentioned feeling stifled in the manor. Maybe you just need to come here and run around freely, like you did as a child."
Arthur chuckled. "That is a good idea." 
"Maybe we can plan to do this once a week?" I asked. I was slightly surprised by how open and bold I was being. Whenever I was with Arthur, he didn't feel like my boss, nor did he ever act like it. 
"I think the more time I spend outside, the more likely I am to get into trouble. But, of course, I do get into trouble in the manor, but that's easier to deal with," joked Arthur. 
"I really can't imagine you getting into trouble!" 
"When I was younger, I was constantly running off, getting into brawls on the streets." 
"Oh, I don't believe it," I teased, but it was indeed easy to believe, with how muscular Arthur was. 
Arthur smiled his lopsided grin and inched closer to me. "You know, Miss Bridget, you certainly are a stubborn one."
"How so?" 
"The fact that you're here shows that you're stubborn. No other servant has stayed more than two weeks, yet here you are."
"Your mother told me about that," I laughed. "She acted as if I was the toughest woman she'd ever met."
"Oh, but that's exactly what I need," said Arthur. He then dropped his tone and corrected himself, "That's what Silverwind needs."
"Well, then, I'm glad your mother hired me." 
"I'm glad, too," replied Arthur. Then, without another word, he leaned closer to me, and the moment I did not know I had been waiting for finally arrived. He brought his lips to mine, gently at first, then it was as if his more animalistic side took over him and he began to kiss me harder. Without even thinking I raised my hands to grab the collar of his coat and pulled him in closer.
I could have lived in that moment for a lifetime, never letting go of him, his warmth and smell enveloping me. But eventually Arthur broke away from me, raising his head up. He was now above me, practically on top of me, blocking out what little sun shone through the clouds. 
"Bridget," Arthur said hesitantly. "Please forgive me if I have mistaken anything, but–”
“You haven’t mistaken anything.” 
He chuckled. “I’ve never enjoyed anyone’s company as much as I enjoy yours.”
“I must admit, I have grown rather fond of you as well.”
“I never thought I’d ever hear someone say that to me, much less a girl as beautiful and clever as you.”
“You flatter me.”
“I adore you.”
We spent the rest of the morning there, in the meadow, eventually having to return to Silverwind Manor when it began to rain. But as we rode the carriage back to the Manor, I thought to myself, I don’t mind the storm, as long as I have Arthur next to me. 
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The next two weeks were oddly blissful. Arthur began to spend his time in the main part of the manor, instead of squirrelling himself away on the top floor. Somehow the dusty old house didn't seem so depressing and lonesome anymore. In fact, joy filled the halls. 
We spent those days taking long walks around the manor property, and sneaking kisses every time he walked past me as I did my daily chores. We ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner together, but retired to our separate beds at the end of the day. 
Every kiss and every glance was, in a way, an act of rebellion, but against what I did not know. Some evenings I would sit next to him on the settee in the parlour and we would talk for hours. I was beginning to live for those moments: his arm around my waist, my head on his chest, only ever going just slightly beyond what was proper for an unmarried couple. But of course, we were not even a couple, and we could only truly be as proper as a servant and her master could be. 
One night, I rolled around in my bed for hours, trying desperately to get to sleep. Lately I had been struggling to sleep, as my heart would not calm, beating within my chest like a horse at full gallop. 
Arthur made me feel a way I'd never felt before, so happy yet so frustrated. He and I fit together perfectly, but I was just his servant, and there was no hope of changing that. I had never been one to daydream, but there I was, tossing and turning, imagining what it would be like to wed him, my Arthur. 
Then I heard a howl.
All the happy thoughts fled my mind. Now all I could think of when Arthur told me there was only one wolf left in Windsor. His gruff voice echoed in my head. An uneasy feeling crept over me as the howling continued, louder than ever before. 
I got out of bed and lit a candle. I moved almost entirely on instinct, leaving my room and walking to the front room. There I found that the front door was ajar. Without even thinking I went up both sets of stairs to the top floor. 
It was dead silent as I entered the furthermost room, the only one I did not go in during my first expedition to this floor. This one had more furniture in it, but none that went together. It looked as if the room, which was in disarray, was once an office of sorts, but an old mattress rested on the floor in the corner, with many blankets crudely thrown on top of it. This must be where Arthur sleeps, I thought. But where was he? 
I saw glass vials, a microscope, and journals upon journals. One journal, which sat on a desk, was open, and I wandered over to it to look at its contents. I held my candle up to read it, but was even more confused by what I found. The journal listed various plants and herbs, such as wolfsbane and foxglove. On the margins I saw what looked to be chemical equations. I couldn’t make any sense of it; it seemed like someone had been doing experiments of some sort.
Suddenly, I heard a faint noise from downstairs. It was the front door shutting. I was breaking the one rule of living here, and I had no idea how Arthur would react. 
I rushed through the door and down the stairs, only to run into Arthur on the middle floor. He was dishevelled, and his clothes were ripped and bloodied. He also had what seemed to be blood dripping from his mouth. 
"Bridget?" 
"Are you all right?" 
"Please don't tell me you went to the top floor, please don't."
I didn't respond, knowing that he already knew the answer.
"I trusted you," Arthur said, his voice full of despair. Then, to my utter shock, I saw his eyes turn gold.
"I'm sorry–"
"Run, Bridget!" growled Arthur. "You must run! The beast–" He was cut off abruptly, his voice shifted to more of a yowl. 
This man who already towered over me somehow seemed to grow larger, his already ripped clothes tearing and falling off of him. His eyes shone gold and his hair seemed to darken, until it was entirely black. A groan escaped Arthur as his face changed from that of a handsome man to that of a wolf, and the rest of his body followed suit. The only thing that remained of him was the three scars across his face. I let out a scream as his front paws hit the floor in front of me.
 Arthur was no longer the man whose arms I had spent hours in, nor was he a man at all. He stood before me as a large black wolf, growling at me with bloody fangs. 
I let out a scream and ran down the stairs to the ground floor. The wolf followed me, but not at the same pace: he moved down the stairs slowly, as if he was entirely confident that he would capture his prey. His gold eyes stared me down as I tried desperately to unlock the front door. 
Finally the door opened and I burst through it. I began to run across the yard toward the road. I could feel the cold breeze moving my nightgown, but I kept running, and the wolf kept chasing.
I dashed down the road toward Marbleton House, hoping Lady Clara would let me in. My feet hurt every time they hit the road. 
When I made it to Lady Clara's manor I began to scream wildly, hoping to wake up whoever I could. I banged on the front door with my fists. I could hear the wolf growling behind me. 
Suddenly, the door opened and I fell inside, then it shut behind me. I looked up but did not see the mother of the beast that was chasing me, but instead a servant woman. 
"I'm Elizabeth," said the woman. "Are you hurt?" 
"I don't think so," I said, moving myself to a sitting position on the floor. 
Elizabeth knelt next to me. "You can sleep here tonight. Tomorrow morning I will help you gather your things before Lord Grey wakes up."
"Gather my things?"
"You should leave while you still can. You're lucky you made it out alive. The last girl– well, I shouldn't talk about that."
"What happened to her?" I pleaded as she helped me stand up. 
 Elizabeth sighed. "She encountered Lord Grey during one of his transformations, and she ran away from him and fell off the balcony in Silverwind."
"How do you know this?"
"Because I had to help clean up." 
A shiver ran down my spine as I pictured a woman my age falling to her death in the manor. Elizabeth was right, I was lucky. I said nothing and followed Elizabeth to an extra bedroom in the servants' quarters. 
"I'm just down the hallway, if you need anything," said Elizabeth. As she left the room, I saw on her face that same pitying look I'd seen before on Lady Clara's. 
I woke to a light rain and a knock on the door. Elizabeth opened it and whispered, "He is here for you."
I shot up in bed. My first thought was to be excited to see Arthur, but then I remembered the events of the night before. I slowly got out of bed and followed Elizabeth down the hall, to the foyer where I first met her, where she had rescued me from the man I loved. 
Dawn was just beginning to break, and Arthur stood in the doorway, his hair and clothes wet and clinging to him.
"Bridget," he said softly. 
Elizabeth fled the room, clearly frightened. I replied, my voice cracking slightly, "Arthur."
Arthur stepped closer to me, but I flinched, and he backed off. "I apologise for last night. Sometimes, when I feel very strongly, the beast takes over me and I can no longer control myself."
"What are you?"
"I don't know. At night, I am a monster. But during the day, I am just a man. A man who is desperate for your acceptance, your forgiveness, your love."
The word love made my heart skip a beat, but I did not respond. 
“Bridget, please come home with me.”
“It is your home, not mine,” I replied without thinking. 
“It could be yours, too.”
“Your mother would never allow it. The beast would never allow it.” I let out a deep breath. “You stand here speaking of love but you nearly killed me last night.”
“I never would have hurt you!”
“If you have no control over yourself, then who knows what you would do?”
“Everything I've said to you is still true. You’re still the only person I’ve ever felt connected to, the only person I’ve ever felt comfortable with.” Arthur walked towards me again, and this time, despite my better judgement, I let him. He brushed a stray hair out of my face, and I noticed that this time he wore no gloves. His knuckles were bruised and cut, and part of me wanted to take his hands in mine and kiss every single injury. He leaned in towards me, and yet again against my better judgement, I let him kiss me. 
But the moment did not last long: Lady Clara came down the stairs behind me, and I could sense her anger. Yet, somehow she remained her composure, which was perhaps even more frightening to me. “What is going on here?”
Arthur and I broke away from each other, but he kept an arm around me as we both faced Lady Clara. “She knows my secret,” Arthur stated. “She knows what I am– who I am, and she still loves me.”
“Neither of you know anything about love. You are more monster than man.” 
“How can you say that, when my father had the same affliction?”
“I loved your father, Arthur, but he was still a monster. I lived in constant danger for years."
"And he never hurt you!" 
I was in shock, not just from the events of the night before but to see them bicker so openly, so loudly. With every word Arthur said, the house shook, as if his booming voice was causing a small earthquake. The fact that I was still in my nightgown only made me more upset.
"Arthur, do you really think she loves you? Or does she love your money? Do you really think she could look past those scars your father gave you?" 
I wanted to interject, but when I looked at Arthur I saw his eyes turning gold. I immediately took a step away from him. 
Lady Clara continued, "You bring shame to this family, to your father's name. Even I can't find it in myself to love you."
 With those final words, Arthur grew fangs and his hair turned black again. The beast was taking over, but Lady Clara only realised it when it was already too late. He lunged at her, fully in his wolf form, and she let out a terrified scream and ran up the stairs. He chased her. 
For a moment I was frozen in fear, but I quickly came to my senses and rushed to the back of the house, to the servants’ quarters, where I found Elizabeth and her two sons.
"What's going on?" asked Elizabeth. There was no doubt she'd heard Lady's Clara's shriek. 
"The beast— we have to run!" 
"Follow me, we can hide in the basement." Elizabeth picked up her smaller son and began to dash away. Fearing that Baxter, her older boy, still wouldn't be able to keep up, I picked him up and tossed him over my shoulders. I was in pure panic, with no idea what was going on on the floor above us.
I followed Elizabeth around a corner, through a door and down a narrow staircase. But as we reached the bottom, I put Baxter down and headed back up to the main floor.
"Where are you going?" asked Elizabeth, her voice full of fear. 
"I have to find Arthur!"
As the words left my mouth, I realised they sounded ridiculous. I knew where Arthur was, he was upstairs, likely ripping his mother to shreds. But I needed to find Arthur, reach him deep in his soul, in a way that only I could, or at least so I hoped. 
 Once I was on the main floor I dashed up the stairs to the top and I went through the first open door I saw, which turned out to be a bedroom. There I found them. 
Lady Clara's transformation from when I first met her was somehow more shocking than Arthur's transformation into a wolf. When she hired me I thought she was kind, but gradually her disdain for her son had grown more apparent, and I had missed it entirely. The kind woman I'd first met was now a terrified screaming mess, her back against the wall, cornered by the wolf that was her son. 
The beast was growling at the Lady as she slid down the wall, landing on the floor, looking more like a scared child than an elegant aristocrat. I was frightened too, but my love for Arthur took over me just as the beast had taken over him. 
“Arthur!” I cried out. The black beast turned and looked at me. 
I walked toward him, and the beast growled at me, signalling for me to not come any closer. I disobeyed, and positioned myself in between him and Lady Clara, who looked up at me like I was the worst imbecile she’d ever seen. I knelt down, putting myself at eye level with the wolf.
“Arthur, please, please come back to me,” I begged. 
The beast’s growl rattled me in my soul.
“Come back to me,” I pleaded. “I love you.”
The growl suddenly stopped. 
I watched in utter surprise as I saw the wolf’s golden eyes turn back to Arthur’s green, and the rest of him faded back into his normal self. Arthur lay on the ground, completely nude, as his clothes had ripped off of him in his transformation. Instinctively I pulled his head into my lap, and he looked up at me groggily. I couldn’t believe it: I had pulled him back from killing his mother, from orphaning himself. I had previously denied myself the joy of believing it, but maybe he truly did love me.
“Bridget,” he said, his gruff voice barely above a whisper. 
“I’m here, Arthur,” I said. 
Our moment was yet again ruined by Lady Clara, who stood up and shrieked, “I wish you had never been born.”
 “I had always wished the same thing, until I met Bridget,” mumbled Arthur. He began to stand up, and Lady Clara leapt backward, as if in anticipation that he’d become the wolf again. When she backed up she hit the glass door that I could see led to the balcony. 
“I should have let him kill you, I really should have,” muttered Lady Clara. 
“Mother–” 
“Do not come any closer!” bellowed the old woman. She opened the balcony door, and backed out of it.
Arthur took one step closer, his muscular arms outstretched as if in apology. Lady Clara shrieked and continued backing away from him, across the balcony. Outside the soft rain had begun to pour harder, and the floor was slick with water. I stood up next to Arthur, and saw that Lady Clara’s eyes were focused solely on her son’s face, and not on where she was stepping.
I wanted to cry out for her to be careful, but before I could, a loud crack of lightning erupted across the morning sky, startling Lady Clara, who then backed up so far that she hit the balcony railing. Forgetting that he was unclothed, Arthur rushed to her to stop her from falling, but it was already too late: she tumbled backward over the side, and down onto the lawn below. 
I followed Arthur to look over the railing, and there she was, sprawled out in a most peculiar and unnatural way, blood seeping into the grass next to her. I looked at Arthur, whose green eyes were full of sorrow, and he let out the smallest sigh. After a moment, he looked at me, and I reached out my hand to hold his.
“We should probably get you some clothes,” I said, trying desperately to bring a little levity to the moment.
“My mother still has my father’s old clothes,” he responded. “I’ll go find them.”
“I need to find your mother’s servant, she’s hiding in the basement.”
Arthur nodded and we both went inside. I felt as if there was a hole in my chest, a void growing larger with every beat of my heart, but I also couldn’t help but feel as if his mother’s death was a weight lifted off of him, off of us. 
I found Elizabeth, Phillip, and Baxter still in the basement, and told them half-heartedly that everything was going to be all right. I explained to Elizabeth what had happened, and she nodded sagely, as if she had expected this for years. 
“I’ve never understood the way Lady Clara treated her son,” said Elizabeth. “I can’t imagine treating my boys like that.” 
As we all climbed up the stairs to the main floor, I heard little Phillip say to his mother, “Mummy, did the monster kill the Lady?”
By the time we made it to the foyer, Arthur was descending the stairs from the top floor, wearing his father’s clothes. His hair was still wet from the rain outside, but his father's black coat fit him well. Our eyes met, and the anxious void in my heart began to close up, and I began to feel whole again. He came up to me and wrapped me in his arms, and I revelled in his natural warmth. 
"We should leave," he whispered into my hair.
I looked up at him. "Yes, I do need fresh clothes."
"No, we should leave Windsor. We can get a house in the countryside and get married."
I couldn't help but smile at that, despite the circumstances. "You want to marry me?"
"More than anything," Arthur replied before grinning and kissing me. 
After a moment, I turned my head around and saw that Elizabeth and her sons had left, likely to go back to their quarters. I looked back at Arthur and said, "We don’t have to leave. We can't leave Elizabeth and her boys here, we can't abandon them."
Arthur let out a small sigh. "You're right. We can hire Elizabeth to work at Silverwind."
I buried my face in his chest. There was something special about him, about hearing his heart beat so powerfully. I had never truly been in love before, but I knew that this must be it.
As if he read my mind, Arthur said, “I love you, my Bridget.”
“I love you, my Arthur.” 
“And you’ll be my wife?”
“Of course.” 
“Being with you makes everything much easier.” He ran his large hand up and down my back, and I could hear his breath hitch. He was thinking of his mother and the previous servant.
I looked up at him, staring him in the face. “It wasn’t your fault. Their deaths weren’t your fault.”
“My father’s death was.”
I shook my head in confusion, Lady Clara’s words from earlier ringing in my mind. “Arthur… what did your mother mean when she said she should have let him kill you?”
Arthur let out a sigh. “My father loved me but he was deeply ashamed of the monsters we became under the moon. He spent hours upon hours trying to create a medication that could stop it. We fought about it constantly, because I didn’t want to change. One day, the day before he died, he made a concoction that he said would either cure us or kill us, and he wanted me to drink it.”
“But your mother stopped him?”
“As much as she hated the beasts we were, she didn’t want him to kill me. He insisted, we fought and transformed and…” I could see Arthur was holding back tears as he thought back to his father’s death. “And I killed him. Not before he nearly tore my face off, of course.” He gestured to the scars on his face, the scars that had once frightened me, but I had grown to love.
I reached up, and for the first time, gently touched the scars that he believed made him hideous, tracing them with my thumb. “You never have to worry about anything like that ever again. Now you’re only in the company of someone who adores you.”
“I don’t understand how someone like you could love someone like me,” he admitted, a small smile crossing his lips. 
“Because you said it yourself: I'm exactly what you need.” 
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straylightdream · 1 year
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🍒 𝔟𝔞𝔫𝔤 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪 🍒
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kafkasdiariies · 2 years
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(Madame) Gaston 🥀 , Beauty and the Beast | Daryadarcy
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clumsyclifford · 1 year
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“We’re not gonna die today, though.” “No, we’re not.”
a demigods!malum moodboard inspired by Win or lose I’m screwed by my sweet betrothed and recipient of my holiday edit exchange edit @cringeycal
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ceruleansoleil · 2 months
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5000+ followers event. Thank you so much @plumhao
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cupidjoy · 2 years
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girl mutuals <3
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alexturne · 30 days
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moodboard for my fic "you've got control of everyone's eyes (including mine)"
pt. 5/5
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numdoury · 10 months
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◌ ⁺ 📜 soobin 🪞 +
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heartshaped-lou · 2 years
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did you know? ltwt stands for louis tomlinson whore tour
requested by @coffeehotcoffee
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