Page 24 of Beast of Blood and Roses
She lowered her head. “You mean you risked your life for me?”
Her question was like a pebble starting an avalanche of emotions, startling me into silence. The raw vulnerability in her tone made something twist uncomfortably in my chest. I stared at her bent head, at the way her fingers twisted nervously in the damp cloth, and realized I had no idea how to answer.
The truth was too complicated, too dangerous to examine. I had never put myself in harm’s way to defend another, not in all my years as a vampire, not even when it might have served my own interests. Self-preservation had always been my guiding principle. But when she’d run out of the house in terror and headed toward the bayou where I knew the wolves hunted...
I hadn’t hesitated. Hadn’t even thought. I’d simply moved, driven by something primal and desperate that had nothing to do with logic or strategy.
What was happening to me?
She looked up then, her amber eyes searching my face for an answer I couldn’t give. The hope I saw there—fragile and uncertain—made my throat constrict. When was the last time someone had looked at me like that? As if I might actually be capable of something good?
I closed my eyes, unable to bear the weight of her gaze. “I’mtired,” I said roughly, taking the coward’s way out. “I need to sleep.”
The lie tasted bitter on my tongue, but it was safer than the truth. Safer than admitting that somewhere in the space between her terror and her courage, she had begun to matter to me in ways I didn’t understand.
Chapter Fourteen
Rosalie
I stared at the beast, watching his chest rise up and down, the rhythm of deep sleep. What a maddening, impossible creature. The same claws that had hurled a chair in terrifying rage had tenderly avoided hurting me while I cleaned his wounds. One minute he was the monster who’d imprisoned me here, the next he was throwing himself into mortal danger to save my life.
How was I supposed to feel about him? Fear? Gratitude? Something else entirely that I wasn’t ready to name?
My chest tightened with unwanted emotion. He’d called me “mine” with fierce possession, as if the very thought of me being hurt was unbearable to him. But I was still his prisoner, wasn’t I? Still trapped here by his demand for payment of my father’s debt.
So why did my heart race when I remembered the desperate way he’d fought those wolves? Why did some traitorous part of me feel…protected?
I slowly rose from the bed, biting back a gasp as pain shot through my chest. I was glad he couldn’t see me wince. I didn’t need more of his intense, confusing concern.
Colette quickly moved to my side, her gentle hands helping me to my feet. “Thank you,” I murmured. “I think I just need time to lie down.”
“Oui. You must rest,chèrie. You could have been killed.” She held my arm with motherly care as she escorted me to my room, and something about her tenderness nearly undid me.
“Thank you. I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused, Colette. It’s my fault that the beast…I mean Fierro got hurt.” The guilt sat heavy in my stomach. If I hadn’t run, if I’d just stayed put like he’d demanded...
She sat beside me on the bed, her expression gentle but firm. “You mustn’t blame yourself.” She sighed, and I heard years of worry in that small sound. “His temper has gotten him into trouble more times than I can count.”
“You care about him, don’t you?” The question slipped out before I could stop it, born from my own confusion about what I was beginning to feel.
Colette’s eyes grew misty. “Very much. Despite his temper, he’s more than a master, he’s family. He’s always protected us.” Her voice caught slightly. “The three of us have been together for a very long time, but servants, even ones as close as us, are a poor substitute for what the master’s heart truly needs.”
I looked down at my rough and scratched-up hands, feeling very small. My nails were chipped and broken, my palms callused from years of hard labor—not the soft, manicured hands of some pampered debutante or society lady. The kind of women the beast had probably been familiar with when he wasa powerful vampire moving in elite circles. “I doubt I can do that, Colette. Like you, I’m a servant. A waitress.” My throat tightened with shame. “I’m not like the grand ladies he’s probably used to dating. I’ve worked hard my whole life, scraping by while my father gambled away what little money we had.”
“You’ve always worked this hard? Excuse me for asking, but what happened to your mother?”
The question cut into my heart, releasing pain that I tried desperately to ignore. I turned away from her and gazed out the window, my reflection wavering in the glass. The familiar ache bloomed in my chest; that hollow, gnawing anguish that never quite went away.
I cleared my throat, fighting to keep my voice steady. “My mother left my dad when I was three. According to him, she found a new man and didn’t want to be bothered with a small child.” The words tasted bitter, even after all these years. A hot tear escaped despite my efforts, sliding down my cheek like liquid shame. “Sorry. I guess I’m just overly tired.”
Liar. I was never just tired when it came to this. I was broken.
Colette’s warm hand covered my shaking one. “I’m sorry,chérie, that must have been really difficult.”
A lump the size of a pinecone formed in my throat, choking off any response. If I tried to speak now, the dam would burst. All those years of swallowed tears, of pretending it didn’t matter, of telling myself I was better off without her, it would all come pouring out in an ugly, desperate flood.
Colette seemed to understand my silence. She gently pulled me into her arms, and the maternal embrace nearly shattered what was left of my composure. Her hand rubbed soothingcircles on my back. “It’s all right,chérie. Sometimes a good cry is exactly what we need.”
That simple permission—to feel, to grieve, to not be strong for once—broke me completely. The tears came in silent, shuddering waves as I clung to her like a drowning woman. When was the last time someone had held me like this? When was the last time I’d felt safe enough to fall apart?
