Author: Tami Veldura

Welcome to Beauty’s Beast, book 3 in the Black Trans Fairy Tales series. This novella is releasing one chapter/week on the blog ahead of publication.

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Unfortunately, this chapter was only up for one week and you’ve missed the window! If you’d like to catch up or support other projects like this, please join my Patreon.

Welcome to Beauty’s Beast, book 3 in the Black Trans Fairy Tales series. This novella is releasing one chapter/week on the blog ahead of publication.

***

Chapter 4

Unfortunately, this chapter was only up for one week and you’ve missed the window! If you’d like to catch up or support other projects like this, please join my Patreon.

Chapter 5

Welcome to Beauty’s Beast, book 3 in the Black Trans Fairy Tales series. This novella is releasing one chapter/week on the blog ahead of publication. This is the last chapter that will be available for free, after this, they’ll only be up for one week. If you miss a chapter or would like to support projects like this, join my Patreon.

***

Chapter 3

Belle used her hip to back into the bookshop’s door and push it in. The little bell jingled. She carried two steaming mugs of tea in one hand and her basket in the other, full of paper, pencils, and half-remembered sketches. No one moved in the bookstore and the lights nearest the door were unlit. She was early.

Bella stood in the doorway and called out, “Lukas! Are you in the back? I brought tea!”

He hollered and Belle gave him a minute to wend his way from the back office. She lifted the mugs when she spotted him. “Come sit with me. I have an amazing tale to tell you.”

Lukas grinned. “Please don’t tell me you finished the trilogy already? I just gave it to you yesterday!”
“I tried!” Bella smiled, “But someone borrowed the book before I could finish.”

Lukas took one of the steaming mugs and wrinkled his nose at her in confusion. He held the door so she could select their seat outside the shop. Belle set her basket down in her preferred corner.

“You’re not going to believe it,” she said. “But I think there’s someone living in the old castle.”

Lukas froze with the tea halfway to his lips. “You saw a person in the castle? Someone from the village?”

“Not exactly.” Belle pulled the loose paper from her basket and spilled them across the table. The pages were littered with amateur sketches. Belle wasn’t a practiced artist. But she’d rushed home last night and put pencil to paper as quickly as she could before the memory of that afternoon faded. She spread the sheets and selected one that suggested the entire body of the creature she’d seen. Large hoofed feet, shaggy legs, a massive torso, the head of a goat, mane of a lion, and antlers the size of an elk or moose.
Lukas took the paper with wide eyes and carefully set his mug of tea on the table.

“My god,” he said. “You saw them?”

“Standing just across the courtyard. I could have thrown a stone. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Belle shuffled her papers and found another sketch, this one of the long face and towering antlers. “They seemed… almost scared of me.”

“They’ve been hiding up there for years…” Lukas trailed off, his eyes fixed on the drawing.

Belle touched his arm. “Do you know them?”

Lukas started. “No,” he said putting the drawing down and recovering his mug. “No, don’t be silly. But you’ve heard the rumors about hauntings and ghosts and such.”

“This was no ghost.”

“No,” Lukas agreed. “But there was once a curse put on the family that lived in that castle. A curse that turned them all into beasts.”

Raucous, forced laughter burst in front of their small table as Gaston cut into their conversation and sat himself down on a chair without invitation. He put one elbow on the small table, tipping it to the side as he leaned and crossed his legs to cut off Belle’s escape route.

Belle snatched her tea off the table before it could spill and held it close. She fought to keep the wrinkle of disgust off her face and failed.

Gaston wore the same hunting outfit as yesterday. Red and leather, the brass buckles polished to a shine. Belle frowned at the thin sword he wore on his hip. Even more showy this morning than usual. She suspected Gaston owned nothing more than a closet full of red and leather hunting gear.

His eyes gleamed at Belle as if Lukas didn’t exist. “I couldn’t help but hear you talking about a monster in the woods.” He tilted his head forward so his blond hair fell over one eye. Maybe he thought the look was sexy. Belle felt ill. He continued, “You know, I’ve killed every sort of creature around. You should come to my lodge and see the trophies.”

Belle bristled as she gripped her tea. “I don’t know anything about a monster.”

“Oh, well,” Gaston snatched the drawing off the table that Lukas had seen. “This certainly looks like a monster to me.” He barely scanned the paper before looking up at Belle with wide eyes. “You don’t have to be afraid. I will protect you, Belle.”

Belle was shaking, but not with fear. More like fury. She glared at Gaston and kept her head high. “I don’t want your protection.”

The books never dealt with a creature like Gaston. The stories Belle read were full of adventures and trials, of course, but good women always triumphed over evil men in the end. The bad guys didn’t saunter around town with their false smiles and win over every person they came across so that some days, the heroine felt she was the only one who saw her enemy’s true face.

“Ah…” Gaston rolled the paper and stuck it into his belt. “You need it, though. Don’t you see, I hear there’s a beast on the loose.”

Lukas stood suddenly, his hands tight around his tea mug. “The only beast here is you, Gaston. Leave. Or have you taken a sudden interest in reading?”

Belle covered her mouth to hide the grin that popped up. She wasn’t the only one who saw Gaston for what he was.

A flicker of disgust rippled over Gaston’s face before his mask of genteel friendliness fell back into place. He smiled at Lukas and waved his fingers in a shooing motion. “Why don’t you pick out a book for me while Belle and I have a chat. Alone.”

“Not on your life,” Lukas growled.

Belle glanced between the two, then out at the street beyond, seeking anything at all that might help. Gaston wasn’t known for picking fights in public, but he’d been involved in more than one brawl at the tavern and Lukas wasn’t a fighter. He was an old man, for one. And a researcher. A bookstore owner, not a wrestler. Gaston towered over him in height alone, never mind weight.

She couldn’t slip away like last time, dodging around the table and into the afternoon crowd. It was still early and Gaston had blocked her path with his thick legs, like a pile of tree logs.

Rionen, the baker’s apprentice, walked by, leaving the well with her bucket full of water. The only person in town at this hour. If only Belle come later in the day when the square was busier.

Then Belle spotted a woman in an elegant blue dress and had a sudden spark of inspiration. Belle leaned up and raised her hand to catch the woman’s attention. “Laurien!” she said with enthusiasm and delight. “Laurien, you’re just in time.”

The woman met Belle’s eyes and her look narrowed in suspicion. Her golden hair piled high on her head and dotted with pearls looked a little overdone for a morning walk and she clutched a blue purse that matched her dress. She dismissed Belle in the next heartbeat, but her eyes tripped over Gaston and Belle saw her freeze in place.

Laurien was not a friend of Belle, but she was a big fan of Gaston and between the two, Gaston was a much better reason for her to approach.

She patted the hair on her head and made directly for the table, her shoes clicking delicately on the cobblestone.

Gaston reacted immediately. He threw a hard look at Belle as he scrambled to stand clear of the table and chair before Laurien arrived, but once again his mask of generosity wouldn’t allow him to run.

Belle gathered her things and sipped at her tea as Laurien tittered her good-mornings and Gaston bowed over her hand.

“Laurien, I’m so glad I spotted you.” Belle said, standing with her full basket and cup of tea. Lukas read her intent and helped her step away from the table. Bless the man. “Gaston was just telling me how he was hoping to meet with you today. He has quite a story to tell you about some… hunt.”

Belle couldn’t bring herself to call the creature she’d found at the castle a beast or a monster. She’d seen intelligence in their dark eyes. And she didn’t want news of them to spread around town if she could avoid it.

Laurien put a hand to her breast and leaned closer to Gaston, all suspicion of Belle washed away at the idea Gaston was thinking of her. “You must tell me all about it,” she insisted. “I have every one of your hunts memorized.”

Quietly, Lukas and Belle moved away from the table. Gaston shot them a final irritated look that he had to cover as Laurien took his arm and steered him away from the bookshop.

It wasn’t until they walked past the well and out of sight that Belle released a huge breath of relief. She chugged her cold tea, annoyed that Gaston had ruined the morning.

Lukas handed her his empty mug and she put both in the basket.

“That was quick thinking, calling Laurien over,” he said. “I wasn’t sure how to get him to leave.”

“I can’t imagine why she’s out this early. And so dressed up. But lucky for us, I guess.”

“Perhaps she heard Gaston would be out early too.”

Belle grimaced. “Do you think she got dressed up to have him for herself?”

Lukas shrugged. “I’ve seen stranger things happen in the name of love.”

“Love.” Belle shuddered. “I don’t know who could love a man like Gaston, but I suppose there’s someone for everyone.”

Lukas put a hand on Belle’s arm. “The castle,” he said, changing the subject. “Maybe you should stay away for a few days. Until Gaston finds something else to chase.”

Belle nodded. She didn’t like it, but Lukas was right. If Gaston thought he could kill something to win her over, he really was living in a different world. Curiosity ate at her, but she could wait.

“In that case,” she said. “I’m going to need a new book to read.”

Lukas smiled and held the door open.

Chapter 4

Welcome to Beauty’s Beast, book 3 in the Black Trans Fairy Tales series. This novella is releasing one chapter/week on the blog ahead of publication. Three chapters will be available for free, after that, they’ll only be up for one week. If you miss a chapter or would like to support projects like this, join my Patreon.

***

Chapter 2

The quince tree bloomed pink and red, a thick curtain of flowers that crawled up one wall of the crumbling castle courtyard where Belle loved to pass the day reading in the sun. There were several quince here along the perimeter. Once upon a time they had been espaliered along the wall in neat, organized rows, covering the stone from one end to the other. Since the castle was abandoned, though, their branches grew in every direction, tangling with each other and creating a half-canopy simply overrun by blooms.

The remains of two long stone benches held up in one corner, where Belle liked to sit, and there was a tangled, thorny pile of roses in the center of the courtyard that could have been a fountain once. She liked to imagine the queen of the castle sitting among her garden, sipping tea in the early afternoon sun. Perhaps gossiping with the Ladies for hours.

There wasn’t much left intact outside the castle. It had been abandoned before Belle was born and when she was younger she mapped the entire perimeter—where out of control thorn bushes allowed. The front gates were barred with iron, and the two side doors she found were likewise secure. She’d never been inside. Most of the stonework had been overgrown by the forest when she discovered the place, and every year, the greenery inched a little higher up on the walls. Belle kept only a single path clear to the courtyard under an arched wall still intact. And the stone bench, of course, where she loved to sit and read.

Rumors in town said the castle was haunted by the royal family or cursed by some witch and everyone inside died in a single night. Belle didn’t believe a word of it. She’d enjoyed this place for years without a single hint of a hunting.

Birds made their nests in the quince trees and chickorees ran along their branches, chattering at each other to negotiate for food. Roses budded in red, yellow, and pink, each bush a rogue plant bursting up through the stones. Rarely, the deer passed by, their dark shapes stepping through the trees just beyond the arch in the wall with careful precision. Their dark eyes spotted her in the courtyard, watching warily, before they moved on. Belle liked to leave a handful of nuts for the squirrels when she arrived and watch them hop across the courtyard to collect them while she read, their tails waving like flags.

Nature made the stones beautiful now, but what a glorious place this must have been when it was maintained.

Leaves rustled under the arch. Belle glanced up, expecting a bird. She spotted a creature as big as the stone wall. Their huge antlers, like a deer but much larger, scraped against the top the arch, which was so tall that Belle couldn’t touch it even when she got a running start. It wasn’t a deer, though. They stood on two shaggy legs, had a bulky body like a bear, the face of a goat, and a thick mane around their shoulders like a lion. Shaggy arms ended in very human-like hands on the wall of the courtyard, rustling the leaves there.

Belle swallowed, her eyes growing wider as she took in the cloven hooves the size of dinner plates and billowing breath like steam.

She didn’t find herself afraid. The creature seemed more at home in the ruins than any other. But Belle held her breath as they watched one another and she knew any wrong move would break the spell. She saw curiosity and longing, but also fear. Belle had been coming to this courtyard for years. How long had this creature been watching?

Belle softly closed the book in her hands. The creature’s eyes snapped to the motion like a wary animal caught in the stare of a predator. But that couldn’t be right. Belle was half their size. And those horns…
She put the book on the bench. “Hello,” she said gently.

The creature looked up from the book. Did they speak?

Slowly, so carefully, Belle stood up from the bench. “My name is Belle,” she said.

The creature fled. They were gone so quickly a breeze gusted through the courtyard behind them and it took Belle a moment to realize they hadn’t just disappeared, they’d run away. She grabbed her dress skirt and ran to the arch. She followed the only open path in the overgrowth but that led to a corner with a door to the castle that was barred and unmoving. Ivy crawled around the door jam and obscured most of the wall. The door itself, a heavy timber banded with metal and studs.

Belle shook the handle but the door just rattled against its lock. She frowned and backtracked along the path. The creature had large, powerful legs. Had they simply lept over the overgrown thorn bushes and vanished into the forest?

Belle peered into the woods for a while, seeking any sign of movement or a hint of those great antlers. But eventually the birds resumed their singing and the chickorees their chattering without any sign of something larger.

Curious, Belle returned to the courtyard. She tried to remember the stories about the castle, of hauntings and curses, but she didn’t have the details. She’d have to ask her father. And Lukas. He probably had a collection of myths she could read.

Belle collected her basket and froze at the bench. Her book was gone. She checked the ground and under the bench. No book. But here, hoofprints fresh in the wet moss. Prints larger than her hand when she stretched her fingers wide.

She looked up at the castle, scanning the tops of the courtyard walls for any other way in. Unless there was a secret door, the creature had to have snuck past her on the path or come around the back and scaled the wall. She couldn’t imagine it.

There had to be a secret door. Maybe they were watching her now, waiting to see what she would do about the missing book.

Belle straightened her back and cleared her throat, projecting her voice into the courtyard. “That book is one of my favorite. It’s book two in a series but I can bring the first one from home next time… if you want to read them.” She glanced around the crumbling stone and overgrown quince.

Nothing and no one talked back but the birds.

Belle nodded once, checked her basket for the canteen she’d brought—that was still there—and made her way out of the courtyard to the forest path she’d worn between the trees. Next time she’d bring extra books. But not before she spoke to Lukas.

Chapter 3

Welcome to Beauty’s Beast, book 3 in the Black Trans Fairy Tales series. This novella is releasing one chapter/week on the blog ahead of publication. Three chapters will be available for free, after that, they’ll only be up for one week. If you miss a chapter or would like to support projects like this, join my Patreon.

***

Chapter 1

The village sang with birdsong and early light cresting the distant mountains. Belle bathed in the golden glow as she walked into town, humming a song to herself. She skipped joyfully down the cobblestones, kicking her skirt out and spinning. The basket on her arm bounced on her hip.

As she had done every morning sine she was young, Belle had carefully shaved her face smooth with her father’s straight razor. Yesterday’s beard stubble rinsed into the basin along with that quiet discomfort that looked back at her in the mirror. After that, a bit of blush and some color on her eyes was all the transformation she needed. Last night, her father had tightened up her locs, pulling the loose hair by her scalp into neat and orderly rows with deft fingers and a bit of moisturizer. She could do it herself now—her hair fell down to her waist and the locs were easy to maintain—but she loved the time curled up on the floor in front of her father’s chair reading her latest book while his familiar fingers tugged and twisted.

She wore an old favorite dress, one of her late mother’s that Belle kept in good repair despite a general dislike for hemming and sewing. It was a sunny yellow, dyed and sun-faded over the years, with a line of white daisies embroidered by hand along the hem. Belle’s mother had stitched the flowers herself and wore the dress for her wedding. Belle wore it to remember her mother, a woman of soft smiles and gentle hands. Belle only had faded memories from infancy, before the consumption took her.

Belle carried a book in the basket, last night’s book in fact. By the time her father had finished her hair, Belle had been swept into the story, unable to put the book down until she reached the end in the dying candlelight far past bed time. One of her errands today included a stop at the bookshop.

She made this walk most mornings. Her father used to come into town for produce and woodworking supplies but he had set down his craft some years ago when his eyes and strength began to fail. Now Belle made the walk alone, supporting her father the way he had supported her for so long.

Belle’s hum rose into a song as she traveled, harmonizing with the birds. The trees—a loose mix of valley oak, white pine, blending into birch up the mountainside—littered the path with dappling shade. Birch were her favorite, with their stark white bark, dark eyes on the trunks, and flaming color as the seasons turned. She’d never been one to paint, but an entire mountainside of birch trees changing for autumn occasionally made her consider it.

A stream passed through the thin forest between Belle’s home and the village square. The bridge that arched across always gave her the best view of the town in the morning. From here, one hand on the wooden rail, she could see the tops of a dozen thatched roofs; bakery, inn, and shops snaking through the valley along the river edge. A thin line of smoke marked the blacksmith already at work. Beyond the village, the forest thinned even further, dissolving into a stretch of grassland that crept to the horizon.

Belle’s home sat in the hills behind her, among the birch and the deer. A sheer mountain range ringed the back of the valley, standing tall like sentinels against the rest of the world. Tucked into the cliffs, hiding in the birch, an old castle still stood against time. No one in the village knew its history, but Belle found the ruin a beautiful place to be alone with her books.

From the bridge, Belle saw Rionen pulling fresh water from the well in the center. The baker’s apprentice had powerful arms from kneading and lifting trays of just-baked rolls and she distributed water to a waiting line of villagers. The fresh smell of baking bread wafted by, colored with bright rosemary. Belle suddenly had a powerful craving for Rionen’s thin, crispy bread sticks. She always sprinkled a bit of salt on them and they snapped so delightfully in Belle’s teeth. Oh, and with a mug of tea she could sit out by the bookshop and start reading her next book. Yes, this was a grand plan.

Belle skipped into town. She waved at Rionen and Eden beside her, the candle maker. Isra at the bakery happily traded Belle a bouquet of fresh rosemary bread sticks and a mug of tea for the book Belle finished last night. The book would probably pass around the town six or seven times before finally being returned to the shop for a few pennies. Anything Belle enjoyed reading often became quite popular.

Several people stopped to wish her and her father well, which Belle accepted graciously. Her father couldn’t come into town frequently, but he was still well loved and Belle was warmed to see it every day.
The bookstore sat like a thin and gangly teenager between two much more stout buildings. It was two stories tall, but the upper half was an apartment for the shop keeper, while the entire bottom floor was dedicated to shelves of books.

Lukas waved her into the bookshop eagerly, his curling gray hair a halo around his dark face. He stood tall and thin like his shop, mostly bones and joints under an always-pressed vest and hat. He was as old as her father, maybe older. Belle had only ever known him as the bookshop owner, but he gave her the impression that a bigger story lived in his past. Some kind of adventure like the ones she read about in the books she loved.

“You enjoyed it?” He asked immediately, his hands clasped and his eyes glittering. “You just bought it yesterday!”

Belle laughed. “It was amazing, Lukas, you were right. I already gave it to Isra and told her to set aside several hours.” She put her hands on Lukas’ and squeezed. “Please tell me you have the next one. I don’t know what I’ll do if I have to wait for you to order it.”

Lukas pulled her deeper into the shop. “Don’t you worry, my dear. I know better than to tease you with the first book. I learned my lesson when you were young and nearly tore up the shop when I gave you an adventure without having the others.” He shot a sly look over his shoulder at you. “I had no idea how quickly you would devour it. I thought I had time to order the rest!”

Belle hid her face with one hand at the teasing. She considered herself a kind and patient person, a soft voice, like her mother. She wanted to be the person that other people could rely on for a steady hand and reasonable advice.

But she simply couldn’t contain herself when it came to new books. She became a monster. It was so embarrassing.

Thankfully she’d found a kindred spirit in Lukas, who was happy to provide her with all manner of exciting tales at her request.

He led her to his desk in the back room, a pristinely organized space of books, boxes, paperwork, and planning. He swiped two books off the corner of the desk and handed them to Belle with a smile. “Here you are. Books two and three. That’s the complete trilogy so you won’t have to wait to finish it.”

Belle inspected both books with excitement, delighting in their hand-painted covers and the neat hand-written script inside. She couldn’t wait to read. She set the books in her basket and paid Lukas his usual fee.

“When you’re done, I have something unusual for you to try next. It’s about a woman who tames a wild beast of the forest and together they overthrow a corrupt king. Very exciting.”

Belle covered her ears. “No don’t tell me more!” she said, laughing. “I’ve already spent my book budget for the week and you know it.”

“Next week, then,” Lukas promised. “But only if you finish those two.”

“That will not be a problem,” Belle said. “I saw my table is open out front. I’ll get started right away.”
Lukas waved as she left.

The bookshop’s bell jingled as she opened and closed the door and Belle paused in the morning sun to bask in the light for a moment. How could a day starting with bread sticks, tea, and a good book ever go wrong?

Lukas’ shop sat a good yard and a half deeper than the two buildings next to it, giving the space a bit of an alcove feel right at the entrance. Lukas had built a bench seat into the front wall under the bay window and padded it with a rainbow of pillows to sit on. A collection of tiny tables lined the bench, found here and there around town, repaired, and painted white so they seemed to match even though their designs varied. Overhead, a series of hanging planters cradled ivy vines that wound up their chains and spread across the face of the building in every direction.

Belle’s favorite table sat in the corner, where she could lean against the building on the right and prop her feet up on the bench without being in anyone’s way. She had a clear view of the well and its dwindling line as well as the main cobblestone road through town. And as the sun rose, she’d be shaded by the ivy overhead. The table in the corner was tiny, just enough for her hot tea and a napkin full of slim bread sticks. She nestled her basket under the table and got comfortable with her next book.

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Belle was startled out of her book by a hideous and arrogant voice. She jumped in her corner, knocking the table beside her where her tea mug perched—thankfully empty. The sun had risen and as expected, the hanging ivy shaded her corner from the heat and light. Judging from the rumble in her stomach and the busy market, it was nearly noon.

The man bothering her stood just an inch outside of her personal space. He loomed like a vulture, one meaty hand leaning on the bookstore’s bay window.

Gaston.

Hero of the town: tall, strong, handsome. Slayer of monsters. Protector of damsels.

Creep.

His blond hair fell in a wave over one shoulder and he wore a flashy red and leather outfit suitable for hunting in the woods. Judging by the shine on the brass buckles, had never been hunting through the woods. It was just a look. Belle suspected Gaston hadn’t killed a single one of the trophies he kept in his lodge. She’d been subject to his outrageous stories often enough. They never matched from one day to the next.

He could ride a horse and his sword was real, but the rest of him was a show for attention and Belle had never been interested.

She couldn’t help recoiling, trying to give herself a little more space. Gaston’s sinister smile widened.
He seemed to take her disgust as a challenge. Every time she managed to slip away he laughed as if she were playing hard-to-get and he enjoyed the game. The sound of his voice was a thousand spiders crawling up her back. She shivered.

Gaston laughed loudly, projecting into the street as if she’d said something witty. It was all an act, meant to get the attention of everyone passing by. He thought if he drew enough attention she wouldn’t be rude and turn her back on him. She would have to be polite. She couldn’t make a scene in public. Belle couldn’t stop the sneer from crawling over her lips. She tucked her book into her basket, collected her mug and swept the crumbs from the table for the birds.

“Belle, darling, you’re not happy to see me?” Gaston slid down onto the bench to sit far too close.
Belle stood up immediately, sliding the little table into Gaston’s way so she had room to flee.
She didn’t want to run from him, but she left the bookstore at a brisk walk, secretly pleased when she heard him cursing the table quietly and knocking it out of the way. Half a second head start. She’d worked with less.

Belle took a fork in the road toward the street market. At lunch it would be bustling with people, and with a little luck, Gaston would draw attention to himself without her help. Her heart surged in her chest and she took a deliberate deep breath. For all his posturing, Gaston had never manhandled her, and he was far more sensitive about his public appearance than she was. Belle just needed to keep a cool head and get into a crowd. She kept a tight hand on her basket.

The market swelled just ahead. The heavy scent of roast meat and grilling reached her first. Belle’s stomach growled, reminding her it was time to eat.

She’d pick something up after ditching Gaston.

“Belle! I have something to show you!” he called.

Belle dove into the crowd of the market. She didn’t want to see anything Gaston had to show off. And thanks to his shout, an entire group of women—and a few men—gasped and ran to meet him. In seconds he was mobbed by socialites in large dresses and the act he played wouldn’t allow him to brush them aside.

Belle circled the market with a secret smile. She hated the man, but his false face made it easy to use against him and slip away. As long as people were busy in town, she could always find a way out.
The group that surrounded Gaston fawned over his hunting leathers and demanded his presence at the next party and insisted on private dinner meetings. The men wanted to hear his hunting stories while the women competed to marry him. Why on earth Gaston insisted on harassing Belle when he had two dozen people at his feet ready to do his bidding, she’d never understand.

With the beast occupied, Belle tracked down a roasted skewer of vegetables and a fresh loaf of bread for lunch. That settled, she went through her mental list of errands. She had to pick up some groceries, return this tea mug, and slip out of town without Gaston spotting her.

Today wasn’t the first time he’d cornered her at the bookstore but he’d never tried to sit with her before. He was getting more aggressive and Belle had no idea what to do about it. Some days she wanted to punch him in his perfect nose, just to see his shocked face. She’d probably break her hand but it would be worth it.

Belle shook her head and focused. Gaston and his poor behavior didn’t get to live in her head. She had more important things to do.

It was time she got to it.

Chapter 2