Page 21 of The Beast Between Us
“This rose is bold enough to be both,” I continue. “It doesn’t need to be one or the other. And it doesn’t need to be accepted by everyone to have value.”
I pause, letting the silence stretch just long enough.
“Some things were never meant for the market.”
He goes still, the rose cradled in his clawed fingers like something fragile and dangerous all at once.
He’s quiet for a long moment. The wind stirs between us, lifting the scent of roses and something deeper…unspoken.
Then, in a voice rougher now, he mutters,
“No one accepts something so beastly… no matter how gently it holds a flower.”
And with that, he turns.
His steps are heavy, slow. Each one presses into the earth like he’s carrying more than just his body. But even as he walks away, the rose remains cradled in his clawed hand…careful, deliberate, uncrushed.
As if part of him still dares to believe in something delicate.
Chapter Seven
Thorne
“Sire, I’ve returned with your items.”
“You know full well they belong to the woman,” I growl from my shadowed corner. My voice scrapes low, threaded with irritation…and something darker. “Deliver them to her room. And remind her totriplethe amount of food she’s been preparing.”
A pause.
“The Beast is starving.”
“Of course, Sire,” Oswin replies, bowing slightly before disappearing down the hall.
The moment he’s gone, I clench my fists, claws biting into my palms.
Triple the food.
Like I’m some ravenous creature barely restrained.
Maybe I am.
The Beast paces beneath my skin, restless, growling, unsatisfied. She brought me a rose, spoke kindly, dared toseeme…and now she’s inmyhome, changing things without permission.
Without understanding the danger.
Part of me acknowledges that she’s my mate and that I would never harm her. But, I can’t say the same thing for the Beast.
A low snarl rumbles in my chest.
Outside, the sky darkens.
Clouds gather…thick, fast, unnatural.
The first rumble of thunder answers the growl rising from my throat.
I move deeper into the room, shadow to shadow, breath ragged. Rage coils through me, hot and sharp, not just at her… but at myself.
At the way she looked at me.
