The Monster's Caress - S.E. Smith

Prologue

The Isle of the Monsters:

Centuries Ago

The tiny Rose Fairies fluttered with excitement. A portal had appeared near the old willow, and through it they could see a view of deep space before a graceful golden woman materialized in the opening. It was the Goddess!

The fairies clung to the branches of the magnificent old willow tree, huddled behind the cover of its many leaves, and curiously peered down at her. The bravest of the slender green fairies flew closer as the woman knelt and gently placed a mound of colorful material on the ground. When the tiny fairy flitted back and forth, trying to get a better view, the golden woman looked up and smiled.

“Watch over her,” the Goddess instructed in a melodic voice.

“We will,” the fairy promised, landing on the ground next to the brightly colored bundle.

The Goddess smiled. “What is your name?” she asked.

“Rosewood, your Majesty,” the fairy replied with a tiny curtsy.

“Thank you, Rosewood,” the Goddess acknowledged. Then she faded from view.

Rosewood gaped at the empty space where the Goddess had been a moment ago. Then she flew up and landed on the bundle. She tittered when the creature wrapped inside moved. A chorus of gasps came from the gently swaying branches.

“Be careful, Rosewood,” a fairy called out.

“You don’t know what it is,” another cautioned.

Rosewood impatiently waved the fairies’ concerns away. The Goddess had given her a task, and she would not fail.

The creature moved again, and a fold of the material fell aside, revealing an infant’s dark, round face and large gold-flaked brown eyes. Black curls peeked out from the edge of the blanket. The infant’s mouth opened, her eyes squeezed shut, and her lips twisted. For a moment, Rosewood thought the baby was about to cry. Instead, the infant sneezed loudly and cooed with delight.

Rosewood smiled and confided to the others, “In the palace rose garden, I overheard the Empress and Emperor wishing for a baby, a little girl to name Nali. This must be her. The Goddess has answered their pleas,” she announced with wonder.

“What kind of monster is she, Rosewood?” another fairy asked, fluttering above the baby.

Rosewood scrutinized the creature, tilting her head, then shrugged. “Does it matter? She is Nali—our future Empress.” Rosewood grinned at the increasing number of fairies crowding around the baby, all curious to see the creature who would one day be the Empress of the Isle of the Monsters.

Yachats, Oregon:

Twenty-six years Ago

Seven-year-old Asahi Tanaka curiously peeked out from where he was crouched behind the long sofa and winced when his father slammed the front door behind him as he left. Asahi had hidden to listen to the conversation between his father and the man who had introduced himself as Aiko, his grandfather.

They had all just returned from Baba’s funeral, so today was already difficult without his father’s anger boiling over, but the moment Hinata Tanaka had entered the house, he began shouting at Aiko. Their conversation had quickly become heated—mostly because of his father’s refusal to listen to Aiko’s explanation of where he had been and what had happened to him.

Asahi tilted his head when he heard the tires of his father’s sports car burning rubber. Once again, his father had forgotten about him. Baba, Asahi’s grandmother, would have been upset if she were still alive. She always complained that his father drove too fast on the narrow winding roads around here.

Tears burned his eyes at the thought of his grandmother. When one escaped from the corner of his eye and ran down his cheek, he lifted his hand and wiped it away. Baba would have scolded him for crying over her.

“Asahi, I know you are there. Please come out,” the man sitting in the chair instructed.

Asahi slowly crawled out from behind the sofa and stood up. He stared at the man who looked almost the same age as his father. They looked so alike that Aiko and his father could have been mistaken as twins.

“Come, sit down so we can talk,” Aiko Tanaka gently requested.

Asahi stiffened his thin shoulders and lifted his head. He silently walked over and sat in his grandmother’s favorite chair. The pristine white doilies she had crocheted were draped over each arm of the green floral-patterned upholstery. He swallowed and remained still as his grandfather studied him.

Aiko sighed and looked down at the picture he was holding. Asahi looked at the photo too. It was an old picture of Baba, his father as a child, and Aiko—and Aiko looked the same as he did now.

“How…