Page 99 of Beauty's Beast

“It’s all right, Yvette,” Kristine said. “He’s quite tame.”

Caddaric grinned. “I think I had best go and inform the rest of the staff.”

Kristine nodded. “Thank you.”

“Talk to the staff about what?”

All heads turned as Edith appeared in the kitchen doorway.

“Whatever is going on?” Edith glanced at Mrs. Grainger’s pale face, at Kristine’s red-rimmed eyes, at the grave expression on her husband’s face. “Oh,” she exclaimed softly.

“Come, my dear,” Caddaric said, and wrapping one arm around Edith’s shoulder, he led her out of the room.

Kristine patted Mrs. Grainger’s hand. “I doubt if anyone will be having breakfast this morning,” she said. “You might send some tea up to Erik’s mother.”

“Yes, my lady.” Mrs. Grainger stood up.

Heavy-hearted, Kristine left the kitchen and returned to her room. Finding a sheet of paper, she sat down and began to write.

It was the most difficult letter she had ever written.

He ran effortlessly, tirelessly. Two days had passed since the transformation. The reality of it was his worst nightmare come true. He ran for miles. He killed a rabbit, devouring the poor creature in three quick bites. The meat and blood were sweet on his tongue. He drank from the stream that ran behind the castle, basked in the sun. And all the while his mind screamed that it could not be true. Each morning he woke in Kristine’s room, hoping it had all been a dream. And each morning he faced the truth in her eyes.

He had thought himself prepared for the final transformation. For days before it happened, he had known it would soon be upon him and still he had not been prepared for the reality of it, the sheer unadulterated horror of it. The pain of it. He recalled the look of shock, of pity, in Kristine’s eyes when she had first seen him. He had yearned to tell her he loved her, that he was sorry he had involved her in this nightmare, but of course he could not.

A low whine rose in his throat as he recalled the sight of her tears, the feel of her hands gently stroking his fur. Charmion had said he would always remember that he had been a man; now he prayed he would forget, prayed that the beast would take over his mind as well. As much as he feared losing the memory of his humanity, he knew it would be a blessing. It was too painful to be near Kristine, to see the pity in her eyes, to know he would never again hold her in his arms, that he would never be a father to their child.

He had promised to stay until the transformation was complete, and he had fulfilled that promise. He rose each morning with the intention of leaving Hawksbridge, and eachday Kristine begged him to stay until the babe was born. And because he had nothing else to give her but his presence, because he could not bear the sadness in her eyes, he stayed. As soon as the child was born, he would leave. He would go to Charmion, and he would destroy her, or be destroyed himself.

Throwing back his head, he began to howl, the feral cry filled with all the grief in his heart, all the anguish in his soul.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Caddaric and Edith stared at Kristine in stunned silence.

Edith shook her head. “You did what?”

“I thought you should know. I sent a letter to Charmion, offering to give her my child if she would break the spell.”

Kristine took a deep breath. She had torn up the first letter she had written. And the second. Three days had passed since the awful transformation, three long days, and lonely nights. This morning, she had written a new letter. Even now, Brandt was carrying her missive to Charmion.

“You cannot mean it,” Edith said, her face pale with shock.

“I do.”

Caddaric stroked his beard thoughtfully. “You do not intend to invite her into the house?”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about that. I only know I cannot go on like this. I cannot bear to see Erik as he is. I cannot bear to see the pain in his eyes. It’s worse than anything I ever imagined. He’s so unhappy.”

“And what of Erik?” Edith asked quietly. “Do you think he would approve of this?”

Kristine shook her head. “I’m sure he would not.”

“Have you asked him?”

“No. I know what his answer would be.”

They were able to communicate with him, so long as they asked him questions that could be answered yes or no. But she would not ask for his permission. This was something she had to do, even if he hated her for the rest of his life.

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