Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 74631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
“You do not have the beast’s features now,” Elle says, even more determinedly. “You are the prince.”
My mind reels. I put a hand to my hair and draw it away before I can truly register what I feel under my palm.
“When I touch you,” Elle says softly, “I feel the shape of the man. You have the body of the prince whenever we are together. I would know if I kissed you when you had the form of a beast, and I never have. I know you see something else when you look into the mirror, but that is not what I see. A beast is not all I have come to know at the castle. You are not just the beast. You are both.”
I open my mouth, but I cannot think of the words I need to reply. Exhaustion betrays my strength.
“Let me help,” I offer and kneel by her father. “He is a foolish man to come here.” It is then that I look up to the window and out to the gate to see it closed, and no one else with him. “I could have killed him.”
“You didn’t.”
I almost killed Elle’s father. If I had not heard her voice at that moment, it would have been nothing for me to end his life. The beast considered him a threat to both of us, as he would anyone who breached the castle walls and came inside and climbed the highest floor of this remote tower.
“I cannot always control the beast.”
Elle kneels down beside me next to her father, shaking his shoulder gently. I swallow thickly, hoping the old man will be all right.
“Father,” she says. “Father, it’s me. Wake up.”
Her father lets out a low groan.
“Father,” Elle says, more insistently. “Wake up. It’s time to wake up.”
“My head.” Her father grunts and his body stirs.
“I know. I will help you.”
There is a strange fear that grips me. The unknown of Elle knowing more of me than I do. And of her father being here. Surely he will take her away. And I do know that I can stop him.
I watch her help her father to an upright position, leaning against the wall. Elle pushes herself into his arms and they embrace for a few minutes, his eyes squeezed closed and his arms tight around his daughter. There is a trickle of blood down his face, either from one of my claws or from hitting the stone wall. Guilt and shame run through me.
It is only by a miracle that the man lives. The beast has never shown mercy before.
Finally, Elle straightens up again and looks into her father’s eyes. She brushes his hair out of his face, whispering to him. It is then I gather enough wits about me to cover myself with a shred of the trousers.
With a noise behind me, clothes gather themselves in a pile and I accept the magic’s offering. They appear from nothing and are far better than the strips of fabric. I allow them to dress me as I do every morning. It dawns on me the number of times I’ve thought it was the beast who tore them. I glance at my hand and as I turn it, my palm seems to be more like I once was.
“Father,” she says, and my beauty distracts me.
Bandages and a large bowl of water float in through the door, and Elle accepts them, then sets about cleaning her father’s wound. He’s already talking to her, though he winces when he turns his head, so I think the wound is worse than it appears. Elle dabs the blood away with a wet cloth and bandages the wound. Then she holds his hand in hers, and the two of them speak to each other.
Their hands…
If she is right…
I place a hand to my chest and allow myself to feel what is there.
It feels like the chest of a man. My pulse speeds up, but I leave my hand on my chest. I am not imagining it. The beast feels different because he is more than a man. There is a wolflike creature within him as well.
Hardly breathing, I lift my hand to my face.
It is the first time in so many years that I have felt the face of a prince under my fingertips that I have to swallow a gasp. I keep my face turned away from the mirror, because I do not want the magic of the curse to interfere. Am I truly what I once was?
Across the room, Elle helps her father to his feet. “What were you thinking, Father?”
He embraces her again. “I had to know if you were all right. I could not spend the rest of my days wondering what had happened to you.”
“I am well,” she says, smiling at him. “I promise I am well, Father. But you should not be seen coming to or from the castle. No one else can know I am here.”