Page 2 of The Beast Between Us
Not the blood. Not the screams. Not even the way his eyes looked…wide, stunned, pleading…when the Beast's claws pierced his chest.
It’s the memory of laughter in these halls. Of my name spoken with affection. Of the way people used to smile when they saw me ride through the village, the heir of House Evermere, noble and blessed, a shifter they could trust.
I was never afraid of the Beast. Not truly. I thought I had him leashed. Bound by will and discipline, shaped by years of control. I wore him like armor…dangerous, yes, but mine.
But the Beast was never mine. Not really.
He was waiting. Watching. Pushing.
And one night, I gave in.
Just a little, I told myself. Just a breath of freedom. I was tired of the ache, of the pressure in my bones, the constant resistance in my mind. He wanted full control with no human interference. As I had always been there to make sure he never went too far, I didn’t know what he was capable of without me pushing back.
I thought… if I gave him a moment, he might stop fighting me so hard.
I was wrong.
I don’t remember the kill…only the aftermath. The silence. The cold.
And him. My father. The last of my blood.
Gone.
I tried to end it after that. I wanted to die. Ideservedto die. But the Beast… he saw weakness, and he devoured it. He took what was left of me and twisted it into something else. Something monstrous.
I disappeared into him. Years blurred together in darkness and hunger and rage. I barely remember the world beyond these walls. Only flashes. Snarling. Roaring. The sound of glass shattering. Bones breaking.
When I clawed my way back to myself, I was no longer whole.
I spent weeks fighting for control. Him and me. Man and monster, mind against mind, until the shift locked in place and neither of us won.
Now, I’m something in between.
Not man. Not beast. Not free.
And the magic that once obeyed my will? It no longer listens. It pulses wild and raw beneath my skin, leaking into the land like rot. The sky mirrors my rage. The wind carries my sorrow. Crops wither when I despair.
Even nature recoils from what I’ve become.
They call me cursed. They call me the Beast.
But I remember who I was.
And some nights, I wonder if there’s any part of that man still left inside this broken shell.
Or if I died the moment I said yes.
Chapter One
Ella
“Ella, where are you, child?”
Oh, no. He’s angry.
Closing my book, I jump up and grab the broom, sweeping furiously at an already clean floor, hoping it’s enough. Hoping, just for today,I’menough.
“In here, Father,” I call, grabbing at the hem of my apron to look busier. “Did you come home early for lunch? I can prepare you something.”
