Unnatural Instinct: Wish

You stagger out of the water, wiping your eyes. ‘What the hell!’ Wrapping your arms around your breasts, you glare at the two women. ‘Give me my clothes!’

Pig Snout raises her hands with a shrug. ‘We don’t have your clothes.’

You look around and see that she’s right. They seem to have vanished. You spot the door. Still shielding your breasts, you hurry towards it.

It’s locked. ‘Let me out!’

‘You cannot leave,’ Crooked Nose speaks.

‘You are the Dark Prince’s now,’ adds Pig Snout.

‘You wished it!’

‘Then I’ll unwish it!’ Looking up towards the ceiling, you cry, ‘I wish to be free!’

Both women laugh.

‘Stop laughing!’

You’re suddenly so angry that you charge towards Pig Snout without thinking. You try to shove her into the water but she side-steps you with unbelievable swiftness, and shoves you into the water instead.

Submerged again, you feel their hands on your arms as they pull you back out of the water. You kick out helplessly, screaming, as they drag you across the floor. Then they start rubbing you down with pink fluffy towels, their eyes grinning behind their masks. They push you to the floor, then roll you onto your belly. One of them puts her knee in your back as the other dries your hair.

‘You bitches!’

The knee in your back pulls away, and they release you. You scramble to your feet but can see nothing through your tangle of damp hair.

You sweep it out of the way. ‘Let me …’

You’re alone. You spin around, looking into every corner, not believing for a second that this is not some deception. But it seems they really are gone.

Inexplicably vanished.

You race over to the door and try with all your might to pull it open, but it’s locked tight. Giving up, you search the floor for a towel to cover yourself, but like your clothes and the women themselves, they’ve disappeared too.

You race over to the closet. There’s only one piece of clothing inside—a dress. It’s white and looks very short with a plunging neckline. There’s even less to the back of it. Throwing the door shut, you hurry over to the cabinet instead, wrenching open the first drawer. It’s empty. So is the next drawer and the next.

You turn back to the closet with a sigh. Taking out the dress, you pull it on. It’s smooth against your skin but you don’t like it at all—it’s far too revealing and it sticks uncomfortably between your legs.

With the exit locked and no other doors to try, the only thing you can do is investigate the balcony. You frown. The balcony? How can there be a balcony? You didn’t climb any stairs. You step onto it uncertainly. It’s chilly and you wrap your arms around yourself. Your jaw drops. You are high up! How is it possible? With trembling hands, you grab the railing and look down. You must be up several stories!

Swallowing hard, you look towards the view as your heart does a little somersault. The scene is startling. Beyond the marshes is a vast forest leading up to a range of huge mountains. Ice-capped and jagged, they puncture the starry sky. They are so enormous that you have to arch your neck to see their tips. How big must they be? They seem almost as high as the sky itself!

It sends a thrill through you. You really must be dreaming. You lower your eyes to the marshes. The silvery moonlight makes the water shine. Leaning against the rail, you look further down. You bite your lip—the ground is much too far away to attempt an escape. You’d probably die. But this is just a dream. You can’t die, can you?

You lift your foot to the lower bar of the railing.

‘What do you think?’

You spin around. You make a choking sound as the air catches in your throat. He’s standing in the doorway, his mismatched eyes looking toward the mountain range. He’s wearing the same high-collared jacket and tight pants he wore while dancing. This time, however, he’s not wearing his mask.

He’s as beautiful as he is in the pictures. More beautiful. Simply because he’s alive. Real. He looks like some kind of faery rockstar with his clothes and stylish hair flaring over his shoulders in thick layers, the ends of which are dyed purple. Smooth-faced but broad-chinned with full lips, he is a confusing but mesmerising combination of feminine and masculine beauty. Then your eyes drop to his pants and you realise that there is no confusion at all.

He’s definitely all man.

His remarkable eyes swivel to yours and you quickly turn away.

‘It-it’s beautiful,’ you say.

From the corner of your eye, you can see his mouth pull into a small smile. It makes your heart flutter. It jumps as he joins you at the railing. He’s standing so close you can feel his heat. The mountains forgotten, you can’t pull your eyes away from him. His broad shoulders. His sharp, lean figure. The moon is shining against his hair. And yet, it’s not his physical beauty that takes the air from your lungs—it’s the feel of his presence. His power. His charisma. You know who he is and what he’s capable of.

Just as well as Louise in the book knew it.

‘Come closer,’ he says, gazing up at the mountains.

Your body makes a weird jerky motion as you obey. You slide your hands around the rail, so close to him your elbows are almost touching.

‘That dress suits you. I knew it would,’ he says.

You feel your face fill with heat. ’You picked it out?’

‘Do you like it?’

You glance down at the dress. It’s so revealing that one of your nipples is on the verge of showing. You quickly fix yourself.

He gives a throaty laugh. ‘You were always too modest.’ He’s watching you now, his eyes glittering.

‘What do you mean? You don’t know me.’

’The Dark Prince—the life you want so much. The love you desire so much. How many times did you look upon me in its pages and all the while you never knew I was looking right back at you.’

You stare at him, aghast.