Page 24 of The Beauty and His Beast

Shivering on the bed, he said, “E-Everild, be careful, please, your throat—“

His husband’s gaze softened but his voice remained a gravelly, raw growl. “Camdyn. What happened?”

But what could he say? That his own father had hurt him? Yelled at him and threatened him for not havingyet consummated their marriage? Ashamed and humiliated, Camdyn frantically shook his head and wailed, a fresh wave of tears fell from his eyes.

Everild turned to Camdyn’s father and growled, “Leave.”

“Now, wait just a moment, my lord—“

But Everild hadn't waited. He surged forward in two long strides and grabbed Camdyn’s father by the throat. The man sputtered and choked, scrabbling to lift Everild’s massive hand from his windpipe, but Everild dragged him like a ragdoll into the hall. The door slammed shut, but Camdyn could hear the commotion outside, a cacophony of voices—the guards, Aldaay, his father’s strangled gasps, and Everild, snarling and raging like a wolf.

“Everild—you’ll kill him, let go, let go—“

“Ready his horse. He’d never step foot here again.”

The high-pitched wheeze his father had made had been almost humorous. “Camdyn was my son, I had a right to see my son—“

“You had no rights to my husband,” Camdyn heard Everild bark. Then, again, “Ready his horse.”

Camdyn was still sobbing when his husband returned. He rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve, furious with himself.

He was pathetic. He hadn't been fit for the monastery, no matter how much Cenric and the abbot had tried—always too unfocused, too undisciplined. He would’ve made a terrible cleric. But now he’d been made into an ill-matched companion for Everild, one who had been untrained in running a household and who couldn’t even—couldn’t even provide a nightly comfort to his husband. All Camdyn ever did was weep, and all Everild ever did was soothe him.

So when Everild kneeled at the side of the bed and asked, “Could I hold you?” Camdyn turned away from him, snifflingand crying. An anxious tone entered his husband’s rough voice. “Tell me what happened, Camdyn. Please.”

He hadn't said anything for a time, merely curled up and buried his face in the blankets, but Everild hadn’t left. Instead, he felt a tentative hand on his back and, when he didn’t react either way, Everild gently rubbed at the spot between his shoulder blades with his palm.

When there were no more tears left for him to cry and when he felt more exhausted than upset, Camdyn turned and sat up to face his husband. “D-do you have another?” he asked, his voice wobbly.

Everild frowned, brows furrowed in confusion. “Another what?”

“A-another partner. A lover. Was that why it’s—was that why you didn’t care if I gave myself to you?”

“Camdyn.” Disbelief crept into Everild’s hoarse rasp. “Was that what your father had told you?”

“He said that I needed to make myself agreeable to you. To find your favor, so that—so that our family’s future would be secure.” Camdyn bunched the blankets with his fists. “He was angry that we hadn’t yet consummated our marriage. He said you’d find someone else and that I should just—just pray, and wait until you—until you finished.”

Abject horror lined his husband’s face. He crawled onto the bed and pulled Camdyn into his arms. “Camdyn, no. Never. I would never—I had told you that on our wedding night.”

Camdyn nodded miserably. “I knew, I remembered. It’s just—he upset me, and—and I would have liked to, and I knew you would never intentionally hurt me, but I was frightened. I asked Edwin what could be done to make it hurt less and he told me how to prepare, but I didn’t—I didn’t know, I’d never done that before, either.”

An odd look had passed over Everild’s face. Something like realization. “Ah. So Edwin—never mind. Camdyn, why did you want to have sex?”

“Because I wanted our marriage to work!” Camdyn wailed. “I wanted—I wanted to be a good husband and s-satisfy you—“

Everild’s hands run up and down his sides. “Was that the only reason? You thought it was your duty?”

Shifting so that he could hug him, Camdyn said, “No. I want you, Everild.” He was the only person that Camdyn had ever really wanted, the only one who had made his heart flutter in excitement and anticipation, who made him feel safe and calm wrapped in his embrace.

“You have me.” His husband held him tight. “I’m happy, just like this.”

“But I wanted—“ Camdyn hesitated. He felt so selfish, so embarrassed. “I wanted to feel you, and touch you. And I wanted you to touch me and feel me as well. But—“

Everild interrupted him. “But you were scared of penetration,” he said matter-of-factly.

Camdyn’s face, blotchy from tears, reddened further. “Y-yes. I’m sorry.”

A kiss was pressed against the top of his head. “Don’t be sorry. We can do something else, if you want. Whatever makes you feel good. My hands, or my mouth.”

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