Isabella had been the one who ordered people to help. She had stood there with her pregnant stomach and bossy mouth, scolding everyone until they moved. She had fed the beast, cleaned its wound, and made sure it had a safe closed space to recover.
Since then, it had stayed near the village.
Peacefully.
Calmly.
Almost like a quiet old mountain that breathed.
But tonight, the air was wrong.
The snow carried blood scent.
The ground shook from running feet.
The roars outside struck against its ears again and again.
The beast lifted its huge head, nostrils flaring.
Another scream came from the battlefield.
Then, faintly from inside the palace, Isabella screamed too.
The mountain ridge beast froze.
It knew that sound.
It knew her.
The heavy chain around the gate of its enclosure tightened as it moved forward. The thick wooden bars creaked. One of the guards assigned to that area turned pale.
"Calm," the guard whispered, lifting both hands. "Easy. No one is hurting you."
