Page 45 of Beast of Blood and Roses
“Through the window, did you see anyone?” He shook me slightly, his claws digging through my shirt.
“No, why? Beast, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”
Marcel rushed into the kitchen, his usually composed face tight with alarm. The moment he appeared, Beast released me so abruptly I stumbled backward, my shoulders aching where his claws had gripped me.
“Check the house.” Beast’s voice was as sharp as broken glass. “Have Colette stay with her. Don’t leave her alone. Not for a second.”
“Beast, what’s going on?” My heart thundered against my ribs as I glanced toward the large kitchen window, its glass reflecting the warm light from inside. The bright world beyond seemed suddenly menacing.
Before I could take another step, Beast’s arm shot out and pulled me away from the window, his touch firm but protective this time. “Don’t go near that until I come back.” His green eyes burned with an intensity that made me break out in goosebumps. There was fear there, real, bone-deep terror that chilled me more than his anger had.
Colette appeared in the doorway as if summoned, moving with surprising speed for her age. She positioned herself directly in front of me like a small but fierce shield, her jaw set with determination. The scent of her rose perfume mixed with the lingering smell of burnt cookies, creating an oddly comforting contrast to the tension crackling through the air.
What was going on? My hands trembled as I wrapped my arms around myself.
“I’ll check the grounds.” Beast’s voice was already fading as he moved toward the door. He left just as fast as he’d appeared,the back door slamming behind him with enough force to rattle the dishes we’d just finished cleaning.
The sudden silence felt deafening.
Beast and Marcel must have thought there was an intruder out there. My stomach dropped as a sickening thought stirred inside me. Wolves? Crap, they were back. The memories crashed over me in vivid, terrifying detail. The pain of claws raking across my skin, blood coating my tongue, the bone-deep terror of knowing I could die. The sound of their snarls still echoed in my nightmares. If Beast hadn’t arrived when he did, and if my magic hadn’t somehow awakened in that desperate moment, I would have been torn apart, nothing left but scattered bones and regret.
My hands clenched into fists, and I pressed my arms against my body. But this time I knew what I was facing. I’d discovered my magic, found my strength. I wasn’t going down without a fight.
My eyes swept the kitchen and landed on the heavy cast-iron frying pan sitting on the counter. Colette had been planning to cook shrimp for dinner. The pan was solid, weighty, and would make a satisfying crack against a wolf’s skull. I grabbed the handle with both hands, testing its weight. The metal was still warm from being washed, and I gripped it tighter.
“Ma chérie, what are you doing?” Colette’s face paled as she watched me brandish the cookware like a medieval weapon.
“Getting ready,” I said through gritted teeth, positioning myself where I could see both the kitchen window and the doorway.
Marcel returned and gave me a curious look. “You can put that down,mademoiselle, there is no one in the house. You are safe.”
I wasn’t ready to put away the weapon until Beast said there wasn’t anyone prowling around outside, trying to get inside the house. “The wolves are back, aren’t they?”
Marcel focused on Colette, his entire demeanor shifting to something commanding and decisive. “We’ll stay here untilmonsieurreturns.”
No one spoke as we waited, the silence stretching on for what seemed like an eternity. Every creak of the house, every whisper of wind outside made my grip tighten on the frying pan. My shoulders ached from the tension, and I could hear my own heartbeat thundering in my ears.
Finally, Beast returned through the back door, bringing a gust of cool night air with him. I turned toward him instantly, desperate for answers. His gaze fell on me first—taking in my defensive stance and the makeshift weapon in my hands with what looked like approval—before shifting to Marcel. “Did you find anything, Marcel?”
“No one tried to break in.” Marcel shook his head, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “And you?”
Beast’s jaw clenched, his expression dark. “Nothing concrete. But something’s not right.”
Frustration brewed inside me like a storm, hot and demanding. I slammed the frying pan down on the counter with a loud clang that made everyone jump. “Beast, tell me what’s going on!” I was tired of being left in the dark, tired of being protected from information I clearly needed to know. “I have a right to know if I’m in danger!”
Beast glanced at me, his green eyes troubled, and his mouth was pressed into a tight, grim line. Without a word, he brushed past me, his shoulder grazing mine as he moved to the kitchen window. I caught a whiff of his scent—something wild andmasculine mixed with the lingering flour from his baking disaster. He pulled the curtain aside just a fraction, his body tense as he peered outside.
“Monsieur,” Marcel said quietly. “For her to be safe, you need to tell her.”
Gooseflesh broke out across my skin like ice water had been poured over me. Something was wrong, terribly, horribly wrong. The air in the kitchen suddenly felt thick and oppressive. I straightened my spine and lifted my chin. “Yes, you need to tell me.”
Beast let the curtain fall back into place and turned to face me, his massive frame casting a shadow across the kitchen floor. He ran a hand through his fur, leaving flour-dusted tracks, and sighed heavily; the sound carrying the weight of reluctant resignation.
“Someone was watching you through the window.” His words made me feel like prey. “I saw them in the...I have ways of seeing things.” He gestured vaguely, avoiding my eyes. “We don’t know who or why yet, but until we figure this out, you can’t be alone. Not for a second.”
The room seemed to spin slightly, and I gripped the edge of the counter to steady myself. The cool stone felt solid and real beneath my trembling fingers. I shook my head hard, trying to clear the fog of panic and stay focused. “How do you know? Did you actually see someone spying on me? You were upstairs, so how could you see this?”
“Witches aren’t the only ones who can utilize magic.” Beast stood perfectly still, but I could see the muscle ticking in his jaw.
