Page 55 of Beast of Blood and Roses
Two drastically different futures stretched out before me like diverging paths in a dark forest. My chest felt tight as I stared up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of everything.
I was the beast’s prisoner, here to pay off my father’s debt. That much hadn’t changed. But Colette was right about one thing: It wasn’t as though my father was a man of virtue. My hands clenched into fists as bitter reality settled over me. Not many fathers would sell their own daughters to save themselves. He might not have killed anyone, but he’d abandoned me to a world of servitude to save his own miserable life.
I rolled onto my side, hugging a pillow against my chest as loneliness crashed over me in waves. I wished desperately that I had someone to talk to about this, someone outside of these three who were so invested in the outcome. But I didn’t have many friends; I’d been too busy working to pay off Dad’s endless debts to maintain relationships.
He had kept so many secrets from me, fed me so many lies. My gaze drifted toward the door, and I thought of The Witch’s Heart resting against Beast’s chest somewhere on the other side of that door.
Maybe it would have more answers. Maybe it could show me something that would help me understand what I should do.
The weariness of thinking about what to do and using my magic lured me into an uneasy sleep…
I am small—so very small. My tiny fists flail as I lie in a white crib, crying and kicking my legs. Everything feels too big, too overwhelming, but then gentle hands reach for me. A woman with dark hair exactly like mine lifts me against her chest, her face beautiful but soft around the edges, like looking through candlelit water.
“Hush now, my little Aurora,” she whispers, her voice like warm honey mixed with starlight. The name sends a thrill of recognition through me, as if my very soul knows it belongs to me. “Mama’s here.”
Her arms are strong and safe around me, and I can smell something wonderful—roses and something else, something magical that makes the air shimmer. She begins to sing, and power flows through every note, wrapping around me like the softest blanket. The lullaby seeps into my bones, and I can feel her love pouring into every word, filling up all the empty, aching places inside me.
“Sleep now, my starlight, my moon, and my sun,
Magic will keep you till morning has come.
Though darkness may find you, though shadows may call,
My love will protect you, through danger and all...”
The melody is so familiar it makes my chest ache with longing. Her hand strokes my hair, and I feel warm, loving magic flowing from her touch. Not the raw, untrained power I struggle with now, but something ancient and sure and completely safe.
The door opens with a soft creak, and another face appears. A handsome man with kind eyes, black hair, and a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. His smile is gentle and full of adoration as he looks at me.
“My little Aurora.” He reaches down to brush a tear off my cheek with his thumb. “What’s wrong with Daddy’s little princess?”
I feel completely loved, completely protected between these two people who look at me like I’m their entire world.
But then shadows begin creeping in from the corners of the dream. The warm light starts to dim, and their beautiful faces begin to blur and fade like smoke. No! I reach for them desperately, but my tiny hands grasp nothing but empty air.
I awoke with tears streaming down my cheeks and that haunting melody was still echoing in my mind, the phantom feeling of perfect love and safety dissolving like mist.
“Mama! Daddy! Don’t go!” The words tore from my throat before I was fully conscious, raw and desperate. I sat up abruptly, my heart pounding as the dream slipped away like water through my fingers.
Heavy footsteps thundered down the hallway, and my door burst open. Beast filled the doorway, his green eyes wild with panic as he scanned the room for threats. His chest heaved likehe’d run up the stairs, and his claws were extended, ready for a fight.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” His gaze swept over me, looking for injuries.
I wiped at my tear-stained cheeks, still disoriented from the vividness of the dream. “I...it was just a dream.” But even as I said it, I knew it had been more than that. It felt like a memory, distant and fragmented, but real.
Beast’s tense posture relaxed slightly when he realized there was no immediate danger, but his eyes remained fixed on my face. “You were crying out for your mother...and father.”
I ran my fingers through my hair. “It was my mother…but not my dad. It was another man and he called me Aurora and his little princess.”
But it didn’t feel like a dream…it felt…real.
“It doesn’t make sense. Volaris is my father, and he’s never called me anything like that. He’s never looked at me the way that man did in the dream.”
The color drained from Beast’s face, and I saw something flicker in his eyes—recognition, guilt, and maybe even fear. He knew something about that name, something about what my dream meant.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Rosalie
