her. She flipped through the pages, scanning the
contents and reading a few paragraphs. “These are fairytales.”
His gaze riveted to hers in surprise. “You
can see writing on the pages?”
“Of course I can. Can’t you?”
He shook his head. “The pages are blank to
me, but the binding has a radiant glow around it, like a beacon
pulsing. No other book on the shelf has this appearance. You say
the stories are fairytales. I don’t understand. I was sure it was a
spell book.”
She flipped through the pages again,
wondering if she had missed something. Maybe the spells were hidden
within the stories, but she could find nothing that stood out. “The
tales are: Sleeping Beauty, The Princess and the Frog…hmm…Snow
White and Beauty and the Beast.”
“I do not recognize these stories. Are they
familiar to you?”
She looked at him, her brows furrowed in
concentration. “Some of these would have been written after you
were cursed.”
His deep sigh was of a man exhausted and
ready to give up. “Then this is not the book we seek.”
“Maybe it is. You told me what I see in this
room is an illusion. The book holds blank pages for you, but I see
stories. Maybe if another person from the Peabody bloodline entered
this world, the book would reveal something else entirely to them.”
Her hand slid down one of the pages. “There’s a connection to each
of the stories. Perhaps, it’s a clue I need to break the
curse.”
His gaze locked onto her. “Explain?”
“The book is about people who were cursed in
one way or the other. They were folktales passed on through the
ages. Maybe there’s a bit of truth to them.”
He nodded. “I’m listening. Go on.”
“Sleeping Beauty was cursed to die, but a
fairy took pity on her. She couldn’t break the spell but she could
alter it. Sleeping Beauty would sleep until her one true love
awakens her with a kiss. In the Princess and the Frog, a prince was
cursed to live out his life as a frog. Only a kiss from a princess
could break the curse. Do you see a pattern here?”
“I take it that in the stories, Snow White
and the Beauty and the Beast, a kiss broke the curses as well?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“But we’ve kissed,” he voiced the obvious.
His lips flat lined against each other and his brows drew
together.
Silence radiated between them as precious
time ticked on with no clear cut answers to help them.
She skimmed a few pages more, hoping for a
miracle.
He blew out a frustrated breath and threw
his hands wide. “Sophie toys with us and thinks these fairytales
are humorous.”
She gently closed the book. “I don’t know.
I’ve always believed a kiss held some power. Its emotions are a
part of us we share with a special someone. Like…” She met his gaze
and hated the despair she saw there. “It’s like giving a part of
your soul.”
His brows lifted and he gave her a grim
smile. “A bit dramatic, do you not think?”
“You were affected by our kiss. Don’t deny
it. Even lust is a reaction.”
“Woman, you are too bold.” She was primed to
argue, but he lifted his hand to halt her words. “Let us just say
for the moment, there is some merit in what you say, but if it is a
kiss that is needed to break the curse, why am I still trapped?”
His wings opened to their full length, a majestic beauty of
dove-colored feathers, but then he closed them again with a snap of
frustration.
“Well that is the million dollar question,
isn’t it?” She paced the room, trying to come up with a good
answer, but coming up short.
A low rumble startled them both. It vibrated
the flooring and then to the walls.
Clarity held out her hands to steady
herself. “What’s happening?”
Michael withdrew his sword. “Come stand
behind me. Hurry.”
She didn’t have to be told twice. Her feet
moved and she stumbled toward him and he reached out his hand,
pulling her behind him, shielding her from whatever was coming.
Chapter Eight
The weather changed
contents and reading a few paragraphs. “These are fairytales.”
His gaze riveted to hers in surprise. “You
can see writing on the pages?”
“Of course I can. Can’t you?”
He shook his head. “The pages are blank to
me, but the binding has a radiant glow around it, like a beacon
pulsing. No other book on the shelf has this appearance. You say
the stories are fairytales. I don’t understand. I was sure it was a
spell book.”
She flipped through the pages again,
wondering if she had missed something. Maybe the spells were hidden
within the stories, but she could find nothing that stood out. “The
tales are: Sleeping Beauty, The Princess and the Frog…hmm…Snow
White and Beauty and the Beast.”
“I do not recognize these stories. Are they
familiar to you?”
She looked at him, her brows furrowed in
concentration. “Some of these would have been written after you
were cursed.”
His deep sigh was of a man exhausted and
ready to give up. “Then this is not the book we seek.”
“Maybe it is. You told me what I see in this
room is an illusion. The book holds blank pages for you, but I see
stories. Maybe if another person from the Peabody bloodline entered
this world, the book would reveal something else entirely to them.”
Her hand slid down one of the pages. “There’s a connection to each
of the stories. Perhaps, it’s a clue I need to break the
curse.”
His gaze locked onto her. “Explain?”
“The book is about people who were cursed in
one way or the other. They were folktales passed on through the
ages. Maybe there’s a bit of truth to them.”
He nodded. “I’m listening. Go on.”
“Sleeping Beauty was cursed to die, but a
fairy took pity on her. She couldn’t break the spell but she could
alter it. Sleeping Beauty would sleep until her one true love
awakens her with a kiss. In the Princess and the Frog, a prince was
cursed to live out his life as a frog. Only a kiss from a princess
could break the curse. Do you see a pattern here?”
“I take it that in the stories, Snow White
and the Beauty and the Beast, a kiss broke the curses as well?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“But we’ve kissed,” he voiced the obvious.
His lips flat lined against each other and his brows drew
together.
Silence radiated between them as precious
time ticked on with no clear cut answers to help them.
She skimmed a few pages more, hoping for a
miracle.
He blew out a frustrated breath and threw
his hands wide. “Sophie toys with us and thinks these fairytales
are humorous.”
She gently closed the book. “I don’t know.
I’ve always believed a kiss held some power. Its emotions are a
part of us we share with a special someone. Like…” She met his gaze
and hated the despair she saw there. “It’s like giving a part of
your soul.”
His brows lifted and he gave her a grim
smile. “A bit dramatic, do you not think?”
“You were affected by our kiss. Don’t deny
it. Even lust is a reaction.”
“Woman, you are too bold.” She was primed to
argue, but he lifted his hand to halt her words. “Let us just say
for the moment, there is some merit in what you say, but if it is a
kiss that is needed to break the curse, why am I still trapped?”
His wings opened to their full length, a majestic beauty of
dove-colored feathers, but then he closed them again with a snap of
frustration.
“Well that is the million dollar question,
isn’t it?” She paced the room, trying to come up with a good
answer, but coming up short.
A low rumble startled them both. It vibrated
the flooring and then to the walls.
Clarity held out her hands to steady
herself. “What’s happening?”
Michael withdrew his sword. “Come stand
behind me. Hurry.”
She didn’t have to be told twice. Her feet
moved and she stumbled toward him and he reached out his hand,
pulling her behind him, shielding her from whatever was coming.
Chapter Eight
The weather changed
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