The Beastkeeper's Redemption

Forty-Five

Forty-Five

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Of all things Kaede felt right then, relief trumped them all.

Relief that it was he who was to face the painful administrations of an insidious man and not his beautiful human heartmate.

Relief that Izzy would live to see another day, that she would be given a chance to thrive and share her brightness with the world, even if he wasn't in it.

Relief that there may still be an opportunity for her to escape harm- especially if Lord Ernest Grant's attention was fixated on dishing out cruel punishment. Kaede vowed, then and there, that he would create enough of a commotion during the ordeal- he'd fight, he'd writhe, he'd become the most outrageous victim to torture imaginable- so long as it provided Izzy with a miniscule window of escape.

And judging by the commotion occurring outside of the room they were in, he doubted Lord Ernest Grant would be able to contain them for much longer. The Thornshades would dish out their vengeance indiscriminately- they were unpredictable beings who had shown loyalty to no one but themselves and their familiars. Which meant that Izzy's life was still in jeopardy, even if he somehow contrived to set her free from here presently. He could only hope that she had time enough to escape the estate entirely before the Thornshades caused too much disruption and found her.

Grant marched towards where he knelt, but instead of Kaede, the man approached the selkie.

"Bellarina is innocent in all of this," Grover bit out. His words were muffled, but the anger was clear in his tone, even more so after he spat out the mouthful of blood on the stone of the floor. Glaring at the proprietor, the other man added, "You punish her for nothing- it is me who should bear the brunt of your wrath!"

Grant's lips twisted, but then his back was turned entirely to Kaede as he leaned over the selkie, lurching her long form off the floor by her arm. "The selkie doesn't have the motivation to serve me as you do. Your pathetic devotion to this wretched creature is what keeps you in line. If you were to die, I doubt she'd care at all. However, if she were to perish..." Ernest dove his free hand into the inner pocket of his fine linen coat and when it materialised again, within his fingers he clutched the handle of a long blade that had been concealed on his person.

"No, please," Grover choked out, lurching forwards only to be restrained by the two guards at his back.

Kaede's throat constricted, his body still harbouring the ache from the use of the collar. Beside Grover, Izzy had paled. Her eyes were wide, frightened, yet alert. For an imperceptible moment, he allowed himself to drink in the sight of her, of how chaotically beautiful she was even though she bore signs of injury- a path of dried blood from the corner of her lips, the swelling of her cheek...

He could kill Lewis for touching her.

And now, the likelihood of that ever happening grew less by the minute.

But he needed to do something for her, something to help her escape. Her gaze swung to his, so wide and lovely. Coils of burgundy hair escaped the confines of the skew blonde wig atop her head, trailing in light, wild waves over the exposed skin of her shoulders and bosom. The bodice of the gown she was wearing was cinched so tightly about her waist, the display of her cleavage would be considered wholly inappropriate in any other setting.

He rather appreciated that the last time he would see her was like this, as she was, unabashedly disguised- as it was when they had first met- and yet somehow, now it was more important to him. For not only did he know of her true form- of her true beauty- but he knew of her heart, of her soul, of every quirk and characteristic of her that simply made her Izzy. He was honoured that she was his and he was hers, and more than that- he was honoured that he could do this one thing for her, that by offering himself to this fate he could hopefully ensure that parts of her were shared with the world, as they deserved to be.