Page 123 of Rescued By the Beast
"Then that's what you'll do."
I laugh without humour.
"I don't have any money, Mark. I need to go back to work and..."
"You have money, my love." He interrupts me gently. "My money is now yours. Our brand... our union is worth more than a marriage. This cabin is yours. Everything that is mine is yours."
My breath catches.
"Mark... I can't accept this. I need to contribute something."
His fingers gently hold my chin, making me look at him.
"You've already contributed more than I could ever repay, my love. You gave me your life to save me. You gave me your body... and now you've given me your heart."
The lump in my throat tightens, and I can only look at him, absorbing every word. He really believes that. He really wants me here.
And for the first time in a long time, I feel like I belong somewhere.
Chapter 34
Mark
I wake up slowly, the soft sound of breathing mingling with mine.
I feel a weight on my chest, and when I open my eyes, I see her nestled against me.
But it's no longer the human Sandra.
She is in her feline form now, settling on my chest like a cuddly kitten, her soft, smooth fur spread across my skin, her muzzle pressed against my neck.
She must have transformed while we slept.
If I could, I would stay here forever. With her like this, in my arms, without haste, without the weight of responsibilities. Just the feeling of her, warm and calm, giving me an inexplicable peace.
But there are things that need to be resolved.
I cannot continue inside this bubble of happiness, ignoring the reality outside and the dangers that surround us.
With the utmost caution, I stroke her fur, not wanting to wake her, but she is so cute in this form that I cannot resist.
Her soft purrs are the only response.
I kiss the top of her head tenderly and then, very carefully, lift her slowly so as not to disturb her sleep, and place her back on the mattress, where she can continue to sleep comfortably.
I get up slowly, trying not to make any noise. When I stand up and stretch, I take a deep breath.
My ribs, which yesterday felt broken, are less painful today. The feeling of healing slowly creeping through my body is almost torture and relief at the same time. I am no longer as broken as before, but I am still only a reflection of what I once was.
My healing essence, which has always been an unshakeable force, now seems to be crawling inside me, as if learning to walk again.
I walk to the bathroom, and the reflection in the mirror catches my attention. The scars on my arms are thinner, now just a few silver lines, almost invisible on my skin.
I turn sideways and instinctively bring a hand to my torso, to the area where the pain still lingers.
With a quick movement, I remove the bandage covering my side and feel a slight tug. The reflection in the mirror is honest. My ribs are covered with purplish and greenish marks, traces of a struggle that almost consumed me. In the centre of the bruises are four deep, long cuts made by sharp claws. My muscles tense just looking at them. The stitches are still there, holding my flesh together, a reminder that I am not healing properly.
I put the bandage back on, hating to know that I am still weak.
