Page 34 of Beau and the Beast

"Certainly," Wolfram said, preparing himself for an inquiry about his appearance, his mind, Beau's safety, the curse.

"Do you want me to write this book, Mr. Wolfram?"

Wolfram fixed him with a stare. How could he be so businesslike when presented with proof that everything he knew about the world was now moot?

The transformation had paralyzed Wolfram and his staff foryears—and here was this man, this overgrownchildwho had accepted the truth in a matter of minutes, who had apparently adapted to it and wanted to move forward with his task.

"I know that Violet wants me to write this book," Beau continued. "Your staff seems intent on the idea that I write it. But at the end of the day, if we do this, it's just going to be you and me, Mr. Wolfram. And so I'd like to know: doyouwant me to write this book?"

An hour ago, Wolfram hadn't. He hadn't thought that Beau would even stay in his presence long enough to say hello—let alone pen an entire book about him.

And now...

Things were different, weren't they?

There was a new person in the penthouse after almost ten years. There was someone who had met him—not before, when he was still a man—but met him now, as the monster that he was, and hadn't pulled away in disgust.

In his heart, no, he did not want the book written. He didn't want his sins put on display, even if it would mean that his demons might finally be exorcised.

But he couldn't say goodbye to the fascinating, brave stranger who looked like a Renaissance prince, smelled like a wide world Wolfram could barely remember, and moved with the grace of an acrobat. Not yet.

He would take any excuse to keep Beau there. The first person who hadn't shied away. He couldn't say goodbye today.

"I do," Wolfram said.

Electricity crackled between them, a mutual excitement that was unmistakable.

"Very good," Beau said, a smile sliding across his face.

Watching him go from a neutral expression to a happy one was like watching the sun rise. For the first time in a decade, Wolfram could almost remember what freedom had felt like. Beau’s smile was bright and clear, reflected in his eyes, the way they crinkled at the corners, the way his irises seemed to flash with color, like he knew the best secret the world had to offer.

"Let's get started," Beau said.

* * *

Violet had lingeredoutside the door for almost an hour after Beau went into Wolfram's study.

Half of her expected Beau to bolt the minute he saw Wolfram.

Scratch that, she thought.Allof her thought that he would bolt.

She already had her persuasive arguments lined up in a neat row. She would tell Beau about how Wolfram was really a gentle man who had been afflicted by an unfair curse. She would tell him that in the almost ten years that they'd shared close quarters, Wolfram had never even come close to hurting any of them—that despite his fearsome appearance, he was a man who could be reasoned with—and only a man.

How now Wolfram dedicated every day of his life to using his fortune to help others around the world, to right some of the wrongs that he’d participated in. How inside of the monster’s chest beat a noble heart.

But Beau didn't come bursting back out into the hallway.

She stuck her ear up against the heavy door and was dismayed that she couldn't hear a thing.

But surely if Beau was screaming in terror, I would hear that, she thought.

The doors and walls may be heavy, but they weren't absolutely soundproof.

She'd lingered and paced in the hallway.

She wanted nothing more than to crack the door, to ask how they were doing. The only thing stopping her was that she knew Wolfram hated to be interrupted.

But there was no way that they weregetting alongin there. No human in his right mind would be able to just accept Wolfram at face value.

---