“L-Lys?”
“It’s all right, Amalia. Noelle, if you’d be so kind, please take my sister to her rooms now. I’m sure there are still adjustments to be done before dinner time.”
“Yes, my lady.” Noelle curtsies and herds the gawking Amalia out of the ballroom. I am once again left alone with my Beast and he is in a temper.
“Useless wastrel,” he growls, staring after Amalia.
I am offended at this and want to rally to Amalia’s defense. My sister has always liked nice things but she’s never spent a coin she could not afford to part with. Yet as I think back, I remember her obsession with balls and village celebrations. She’s always loved adoring crowds and the revelry they brought with them.
True she never spent more than she could afford but her coin was spent on pretty ribbons and paste jewels. Amalia always dreamed about being a princess. Now, here, she can finally pretend she is one. I could not deny her that for anything. But my Beast does not share my affection for her and it is his castle she plays pretend in; his coin she spends on new gowns.
I have no excuse for her behavior. “At least she didn’t run screaming out of the castle,” I say, suddenly feeling like an unwanted guest whose presence must be tolerated.
The Beast grunts. “I think I would prefer if she did.”
I recognize that change in his voice. For a creature so used to solitude I begin to suspect he enjoys our presence here. I can only attribute his inexplicable appearance now to a desire to make himself part of our family gatherings.
I smile and his eyes soften. “I prefer your gown to hers,” he says.
The compliment is gruff, unpracticed, but genuine. I incline my head and curtsy. “Thank you, my lord.”
His gaze moves past me to the window and the gathering dusk outside. “Full moon tonight.”
“Yes,” I say.
He expects me to say more, but I can think of nothing to add. We both know what nightfall will bring. My Beast knows far better than I what will await me tonight. His eyes turn bleak. “Am I losing you, Lyssette?”
I am taken aback by his question. “N-no. Of course not!” If anything I am more dedicated to my quest to free him.
He says nothing, merely searches my face for answers to questions he is too afraid to ask. Then he turns and disappears soundlessly back into the shadows.
Perturbed, I retire to my chambers to dress for dinner. My mind returns time and again to his words. Am I losing you, Lyssette? What could he mean by that?
I bathe and dress in the gown I had Jocelyn air out for me earlier. I need her help to fasten it; the row of buttons running down the back is intricate and difficult to do without seeing. When she is finished, she helps me arrange my hair in flattering curls. I leave it loose tonight, knowing I will be too tired later to take out any pins and will only stab myself with them when I lie down to sleep.
The gown is a beautiful, dark green silk with white embroidery and lace trimmings, like snow covering the forest canopy. It makes the green in my eyes stand out, not quite the jewel emerald of Amalia’s, but softer, warmed by the brown of my father’s. “Thank you, Jocelyn,” I say, smiling at my reflection.
“You look beautiful, my lady.”
“All thanks to you.”
“Not at all, my lady,” Jocelyn says. “You’ve a natural beauty few women have. Even the lord said so.”
I have heard the servants talking often enough to know that they address only Bastien by the title ‘lord.’ The Beast they refer to as ‘master.’ Surprised for the second time tonight, I can think of nothing to say.
Jocelyn’s cheeks turn pink. She must realize what she said. She mumbles something about chores, dips a quick curtsy and leaves in a hurry. I bring a gloved hand to my own heated cheeks. The man I called monster has never had a kind word for me, in the six nights I have spent with him. Is this another of his tricks? When could Jocelyn have overheard him saying a thing like that?
The sun winks at me in the mirror as the last of its rays dull. Sunset. I grasp my skirts and hasten to the door. I want to be there when Bastien transforms. Better I find him than he seeks me out. Though the Beast is becoming more amenable toward my family, I would not trust Bastien within a furlong of them.
I pull the door open and stifle a startled gasp to find the Beast waiting on the other side. He looks me over from the curls of my hair, down to my gown and slippered feet. His eyes dim somewhat. “You dressed for him,” he says.
The first spasm hits him before I can say anything. He lurches forward and I move quickly out of the way as the pain makes him fall to the floor. He bites back the screams but his anguished moans break my heart. I close the door so that the others might not hear. He crawls to the bed as his body changes in sickening breaks and shifts. One large paw grasps the edge of the mattress, shredding the covering even as his claws turn to human fingers.
I watch in silence, unable to help, wanting desperately to see the curse finally end somehow. When it is over, Bastien levers himself up. He stands on unsteady legs, keeping hold of the tall bed for balance as he catches his breath. His clothes now hang on him, made for the Beast and much too large on him. Even so, the body draped in a wrinkled white shirt and tattered black pants is anything but small or weak.
When he turns to me, he is once again perfectly all right, if a little winded. His eyes flicker from cold annoyance to burning lust as he looks me over. “Ah,” he says, his mouth pulling into a mocking sneer. “You dressed for me.”
Chapter Fourteen
“You shouldn’t have,” Bastien drawls.
“I didn’t,” I retort, though after the Beast’s accusation, I cannot be sure. I did not intentionally choose a gown to please Bastien. That it does makes me feel as though I am deceiving the Beast.
“I would have much preferred you without the gown.”
He does not come closer but his gaze is piercing enough that I back myself against the closed door. Oh, how pathetically I cower before this man. I dreamed of him night after night. I imagined scenes so lurid I could hardly admit them aloud. I was brave in those visions, boldly meeting him in kind. Where has that bravery gone now that he is flesh and blood before me?
My heart beats so loud in the quiet room I am afraid he will hear. I do not rise to his bait and he does not press it. He merely gazes at me, as if the sight pleases him. His silent perusal is far more unsettling than anything he might say.
He comes a step closer but no more. “I had intricate plans for this night,” he says, tracing the embroidery on my bodice with his gaze. I can almost feel it as a physical caress. I press my back harder against the door to disguise my shiver. It unsettles me to be looked at with such unabashed hunger, but not nearly as much as it ought to. It does not scare me.
It should. Bastien can hurt me in ways I cannot even imagine; not even after having fallen asleep two months ago with his shouted threats still echoing through my mind. Not even after all those books I’ve read.
“Elaborate preparations, plots within plots, and all that.” He comes another step closer; close enough to touch but he does not reach out. My gloved fingers dig into the door at my back. Better that than his chest. I want to push him away. I want to pull him closer. “But now I think this is much better. A prettily wrapped present just for me.”
Bastien braces his hands on the door on either side of me, caging me in. He leans closer, dragging his gaze up from my chest to my eyes. “You’re trembling,” he murmurs, satisfaction shining in his blue eyes. “Do I frighten you?”
Yes! I want to scream. Instead, my lips whisper, “No.”
I surprised him. He accepts my words as a challenge. Shifting his weight, he frees one hand and takes hold of a strand of my hair, looping it around his finger. “You would not be so brave if you could see what I am thinking.”
I swallow with difficulty. Bastien’s eyes note the action, stare at my neck. He releases my hair and moves the curls over my shoulder to bare more of it. I know he can see my
pulse fluttering because I can feel it. I tense as he leans closer still, breathing in deep close to my skin. I grow light headed, my knees become weak. I’ve read about this in the books. It is the part where the woman grasps onto the man and he puts his arms about her, taking her weight when she can no longer stand on her own.
I know Bastien will do no such thing. I must rely on the door to steady me.
“You’ve let him do this – get close enough to have your scent; taste your skin. I felt you tremble with fear of him. You don’t smell of fear now, Lyssette.”
Do not ask! “What do you smell, then?” The words tumble out on a whisper of breath rushing past my lips. I cannot keep my breathing even any longer. I can smell him now. He carries the scent of the forest on his skin, earth and grass, and something I cannot even describe. I want to breathe him in as he did me.
He inhales again and his lips brush over my shoulder. “Heat,” he says. “Prim and proper, pretty Mademoiselle Lyssette. A siren’s lure. You could burn me alive if I’m not careful.”
I could burn myself. I already feel heat pooling in my belly. My blood runs like liquid fire through my veins. The silk gown is too thick, too heavy. It is suffocating me. I want to rip it off so that I might take a full breath.
I can feel him smile against my neck. “You’ve impressed me. The last woman who read my books to me begged me to take her before she was even finished. I took great pleasure in reading every last word to her until she came apart in my arms.”
My body tenses at his words, even as my legs become weaker still. “I… I can’t breathe,” I gasp out.
He turns me around so fast my head spins. I press my cheek against the cool door, seeking relief from this infernal heat but it will not abate. Bastien tugs my hair away from my nape and his teeth nip me lightly as he sets to work on the buttons of my gown. With each one that comes loose I can breathe a little easier. The garment sags on my arms. If I just lower them it will slide to the floor to pool at my feet.
“I could make you beg so easily,” he whispers at my ear. “But I’d rather hear you scream.”
I cry out as he snatches me up into his arms. With two steps we are by the bed and he tosses me onto it. The covers billow around me and before they settle, Bastien is upon me, pinning me down. “Don’t,” I say but the command carries no weight at all.
It amuses him and he grins. It is the first time I’ve seen him smile without the slightest hint of malice in his eyes. Now they gleam with challenge. He will follow through on his words. “Let me up,” I demand.
“No,” he replies. “Tonight is for me.”
Alarm flashes like lightning down my spine. It is foolish to imagine Bastien to be anything but cruel. I struggle to free myself but he holds my wrists against the mattress and covers my mouth with his.
His kiss shocks the fight out of me. His lips pry mine open and his tongue thrusts against mine. I feel possessed, at his mercy – and yet he is not hurting me. Bastien silently commands my submission but that is not all he wants. “Kiss me back, damn you,” he demands.
Surely I have imagined that. Surely that is not despair I see in his eyes. With a curse, he kisses me again. It steals my breath away. I feel his body tremble and this time I am sure it is not a ruse. I touch my tongue to his timidly and he stills. I blush. Did I do it wrong?
He gentles and the slide of his tongue against mine becomes more sensuous than demanding. I can meet him this way and I do. Bastien settles more fully over me and I gasp at the feel of his hard member against my hip.
“Now you fear,” he whispers against my throbbing lips. He releases one of my hands to caress my cheek so gently. “Don’t.”
As though the gesture angered him, he snarls and shoves away from me. I am left baffled, wondering if he is going to leave me like this. Then my skirt lifts up and billows almost over my head. “What--”
“Don’t move if you know what’s good for you.”
My drawers tear up the middle and his arms come around my thighs. He sets upon me with a growl, kissing my body the way he kissed my mouth. My body shoots through with tension and I arch off the mattress. With one hand he presses me back down. He is ravenous and shows no mercy. I am caught against his mouth as surely as if I were tied to him with the chains in his chambers and the things he does with his mouth, his tongue – his teeth - make me slap a hand over my mouth to muffle my cries.
Whatever he is doing, he does it more and I grit my teeth and hold my breath to keep quiet. I will not give him the satisfaction of hearing me scream. But how much longer can I hold out? He spears me with his tongue and my sex clenches around it. He groans and presses his mouth harder against me.
Pleasure explodes in my core, up my spine, and I cannot hold back my cry. My body is boneless and I feel his eyes on me, missing nothing as his clever hand strokes me and the pleasant waves of delight continue to rock me.
I smile, even as drowsiness weighs my eyelids down. I’ve never felt so content before. I could be grateful for Bastien for showing me this. He said this night was for him but he gave me so much pleasure I cannot believe his intent was purely selfish.
Then, with a single sentence from those sinful lips of his, I fall headlong back into my sordid reality. “If only your precious Beast could see you now.”
Chapter Fifteen
I refuse to watch Bastien walk away and leave me to my own devices. I do, however, hurry to put myself to rights, thinking he will continue his gloating in the company of my father and Amalia. Instead, I am told the lord has retired for the evening.
I dine with my family, determined to put the entire sordid episode behind me. I sip my wine, eat my food, and smile at the appropriate times. They are all empty gestures. I taste nothing, hear nothing. For all my strength of will I cannot make myself forget.
It is a torture I inflict on myself willingly, for I cannot myself understand how the evening took such a wretched turn. I knew Bastien’s demands on me would eventually escalate. I suppose I simply did not expect them to do it quite so quickly. Yet despite the cruelty with which I have been abandoned, I have not been harmed. That is perhaps the most puzzling thing about it.
Bastien awakened me to something I never knew existed. He has taught me in one night the incredible pleasure to be found in a lover’s arms; and the disquieting upheaval. It is a lesson I will never forget, and one I never intend to repeat. Yet I cannot say I regret it.
I do not notice the passage of time. Before I know it, dinner is finished and I excuse myself to retire to my room. The bed is still in shambles, evidence of my indiscretion. I could move to a different one but that would not erase the past. Strange, I can almost sense Bastien in the room even now. Of course, he would not return.
I lie down to sleep but I am not tired, my mind in too much turmoil to surrender to sleep.
Of all the things Bastien could have done he chose one meant to give pleasure without taking in return. He made me feel as though the world were coming apart at the seams and he was the only one holding it – and me – together. And I know he did not reach his own ends; the evidence of his passion was still there when he left me. Why would he do such a thing? Was his intent merely to humiliate me; show me that I am not so innocent?
I’ve no reason not to think the worst of him but I cannot believe that was his plan.
Perhaps…
Like the Beast, the man is a confusing contradiction. Now that I am alone, I can think and reason, and I can see what I have been too frightened to see even a month ago. Bastien can be cruel and cold. His words are vicious daggers meant to score the most painful of wounds and he is not at all hesitant to use them. Yet he has not harmed me or my family, though he’s had plenty of opportunities.
He keeps reminding me we are nothing but his prisoners but he has treated us with the respect a man would show his honored guests. It was the Beast who gave us lodging, provided us with magnificent feasts, and anything our hearts desired. But three nights out of the month, the man honore
d those concessions and afforded us the privacy I asked of him. An unfeeling man would not have bothered to bargain. A cruel man would not have kept his word.
It occurs to me that I am the only one ever allowed to visit him on full moon nights. Not even the servants will dare enter his lair unless absolutely necessary. I can only imagine how he used to spend those nights before me. Chained? Utterly alone? Is it any wonder then that he acts like a caged animal?
I sit up in my cold bed as the gravity of this revelation sinks in. A caged animal – that is precisely what he reminds me of. A beast captured in the wild and locked away inside four walls, tethered by heavy chains, never to see the light of day. Bastien is so used to his solitary prison, being feared and hated, that even when a soul approaches in kindness he does not know how to react, except in anger. He takes his vengeance out on anyone who comes near, whether they deserve his wrath or not.
I understand now. Sympathy for this wretched creature melts away some of my bitterness. I have seen glimpses of a different side of him tonight. The look in his eyes, his words, at times so desperate; the way he caressed my cheek so carefully as if, at least for a moment, I was precious to him. He was not gentle but perhaps very briefly kind in his own way. I could almost believe there is a part of Bastien which longs to be good again; to break out of his prison and rejoin the world.
Yet even if that were true the other part of him, the near crazed, tortured and abandoned part holds him back. The part which madly fights for its freedom, willing to tear the world and itself apart just to see the sun rise bright and full again must regard any hint of kindness as a weakness.
How can I ever persuade him otherwise? It is a task almost too great for one woman to undertake. Not for the first time, hope mingles with helpless despair. I am almost certain there is good in Bastien. Coaxing it out of him, however, will not be easy. And if I am wrong, I might pay for my folly with my soul.
The Beast Page 5