Page 39 of Beast of Blood and Roses
I swallowed hard. “I thought Colette would have told you about that.”
His eyes narrowed. “No, she didn’t. What did you tell her?”
“Don’t be angry.” My chest constricted like someone had wrapped steel bands around my ribs. I know there are deadbeat dads, but there’s something about having a deadbeat mom that cuts deeper.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
I shrugged, trying to appear casual even as my hands clenched in my lap and my throat was tight and scratchy. “There’s not much to tell. She left after she had me. Didn’t want to be a mom.”
Beast’s eyes softened with something that looked like pity, and I had to look away. “That’s what Volaris told you?”
“Yes.” My voice cracked despite my efforts to keep it steady. “He was in love with her. He wouldn’t lie to me. He’s been just as heartbroken as I was.”
We stared at each other across a gulf of unspoken truths. Luckily, Beast didn’t quiz me more. I took deep, shuddering breaths, my hands pressed flat against my thighs as I tried to gain composure, fighting not to sink back into the familiar ache of my mom’s rejection.
“You may have gotten your magic from her.”
Those words sliced through my pain like a blade. My head snapped up to meet his eyes. I thought about what he’d said about good and evil magic and how it was based on the witch. My stomach twisted into knots. “If that’s true, then does that mean my mom was an evil witch?”
“I don’t know.” His honesty was both refreshing and terrifying.
Panic gripped me, my heart thumping faster and faster. I could feel my breathing becoming shallow again. “Is turning into an evil or good witch hereditary?”
Beast leaned forward, his massive frame somehow radiatingreassurance rather than threat. “You’re making assumptions. From what I’ve seen, you’re not an evil person, Rosalie.” His eyes held mine steadily. “You sacrificed yourself to stay here to save your father’s life.”
I wanted to believe him but doubt still haunted me like a melancholy melody. What if the darkness was already inside me, just waiting to surface?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Fierro
Rosalie was spent. Her shoulders drooped like wilted flowers, her face was pale as moonlight, and her eyes were wide with shock, unfocused and glassy. Dark circles shadowed the skin beneath them. She needed rest, badly.
But I had one more question to ask, one that couldn’t wait. I tried not to startle her. “What was your mom’s name?”
She frowned, her brow furrowing as she struggled to focus on me. “Why?”
I leaned back in my chair, forcing myself to appear casual despite the urgency I felt. My fingers drummed silently against the armrest. “Just curious. That’s all.”
The lie tasted bitter on my tongue, but she didn’t need to know my real intentions, not yet.
She sighed heavily, her breath shuddering, and wiped a tear off her cheek with the back of her hand. Her voice came out barely above a whisper. “Sophia Volaris.”
I committed the name to memory, already planning my next moves. Marcel and Colette would need to start searching immediately.
The dread in her eyes reminded me of someone trying to forget their past. She sighed miserably. “What’s my next lesson?”
I stretched out my hand, keeping my movements slow and non-threatening. “You’re exhausted. You need to rest.”
She squared her shoulders defiantly, but the gesture only emphasized how fragile she looked. Her chin lifted with stubborn pride. “No, I can do it.”
I took her hand in mine, her skin was cold and clammy, and gently pulled her to her feet. She didn’t pull away and I could get used to this gentle contact, even something as simple as holding her hand. She swayed immediately, her knees buckling, but I steadied her with my free hand on her elbow. Her weight leaned against me for a moment before she tried to pull away.
“You can’t perform magic when you’re this drained.” I watched her carefully as she blinked slowly, trying to focus. Her pupils were dilated, and I could feel the slight tremor running through her frame. “Your body needs time to recover from what just happened.”
I didn’t release her hand as I stayed ready to catch her again if she faltered. The last thing she needed was to push herself and collapse. I couldn’t bear to see her hurt, especially because of something I’d pushed her to do.
She glanced up at me, her eyes heavy-lidded and unfocused with exhaustion. “Does magic always drain you?”
