Page 71 of Beast of Blood and Roses
Colette knelt beside me, her weathered face creased with worry and something that looked like fear. “This is only half the curse, ma chérie,” she said gently, her French accent thick with emotion. “Fierro is a vampire. To break the curse completely, you must give him your blood willingly.”
My heart stuttered in my chest. Blood. Of course. The one thing I’d never considered, never been told about.
She clasped my arm with tremblingfingers, her grip desperate. “But if you do this, you must remember that he hasn’t drunk blood for almost a year. The curse kept his vampire nature suppressed, but now...” Her face darkened with concern. “He’ll be starving for it. Ravenous. He could drain you completely without meaning to, without being able to stop himself.”
Her words settled over me like a dark shroud. I faced an impossible choice. I could die. I could save him only to have him kill me in his desperate hunger.
I glanced over at Tinker Bell, who still held The Witch’s Heart in her pale hands. Her gaze met mine and held my gaze steadily, as if she could see straight into my soul. There was no cruelty in her expression now, no vindictive satisfaction, just patient waiting.
Then I understood with crystal clarity. This had always been the test. Not just for Beast, but for me too. It was my turn to save him, my turn to risk everything. He’d thrown himself in front of dark magic to protect me, had been willing to die for someone he loved.
Now I had to discover the truth. Was he truly the monster everyone believed him to be, or was there something worth saving beneath the curse?
The choice was mine. Let him die, or trust him with my life and blood, knowing he might not be able to control himself.
I looked down at his peaceful, human face and knew there was really no choice at all.
Chapter Forty-One
Fierro
Someone whispered in my ear, her voice soft and trembling with emotion. “Drink from me. I love you and offer you my blood freely.” Warm lips brushed over mine with infinite tenderness, the touch pulling me back from the dark void I’d been sinking into.
I recognized that voice immediately, even through the haze of death. It was Rosalie. My Rosalie.
The moment consciousness returned, I inhaled deeply and caught the scent of something that made every cell in my body come alive—metallic, warm, intoxicating. Blood. A fierce, primal hunger overtook me unlike anything I’d ever experienced. It crashed through my system like a hurricane, consuming every rational thought.
My fangs lengthened instantly, sharp as razors, and my eyes flew open with bloodthirsty intensity. Through my vampire vision, everything was vivid and heightened. Rosalie kneltbeside me, her beautiful face pale but determined. She had pulled her dark hair away from her neck, exposing the delicate curve of her throat.
There, just below her pulse point, was a thin bleeding scratch she’d made with something sharp. It wasn’t much—barely more than a paper cut—but the few drops of crimson blood were enough to awaken a hunger that had been denied and suppressed for far too long.
The scent filled my nostrils, making my mouth water and causing my hands shake with need. My vampire nature roared to life, demanding I take what was being offered, demanding I feed on the woman I loved.
But even through the bloodlust, I could see the trust in her amber eyes—and the very real fear of what I might do to her.
“I won’t kill you,” I promised through gritted teeth, even as my hands shook with the effort of controlling the hunger raging through me. I prayed to whatever gods might listen that I could keep that promise.
“I know you won’t.” She brushed my hair with gentle fingers, but I could feel the slight tremor that betrayed her fear. “Drink, please.”
It was my turn to prove what I truly was underneath this handsome human face. Was I still the monster who had killed without remorse, or had her love changed something fundamental in me?
I leaned forward and sank my fangs into the soft skin of her neck. The moment her blood hit my tongue, I nearly lost all control. It was the sweetest thing I had ever tasted—not just blood, but life itself, love itself, flowing into me like liquid starlight.
Hunger exploded inside, primal and demanding. I wantedto drink and drink and drink until I was drunk on her essence, until I was stronger than I’d ever been, until I’d taken every drop she had to give.
My fangs went deeper, and I heard her sharp intake of breath—part pain, part fear—but she didn’t pull away. More blood flowed, rich and warm, and the vampire in me roared with triumph, compelling me to take it all. The same ravenous hunger pulsed through me like a living thing, wanting to drain her completely, to feel the intoxicating rush of power that came with taking a life.
More, the monster whispered in my mind. She’s offering it freely. Take what you need. Take everything.
Her blood was like aged wine in my veins, rich and intoxicating, awakening every predatory instinct I’d been unable to quench for months. I could feel her heartbeat against my lips, could sense the life force flowing through her delicate body. It would be so easy to let go, to give in to the hunger that had been denied for so long.
My hands gripped her shoulders tighter, and she trembled slightly. The scent of her fear mixed with the metallic sweetness of her blood, and part of me—the part that had been Enzo’s enforcer, that had killed without remorse—reveled in it.
But then I heard her soft whisper. “I trust you.”
Those three words cut through the bloodlust like a blade. This wasn’t just anyone—this was my Rosalie. The woman who had seen past my monstrous exterior, who had defended me against her own father, who had just declared her love while offering me her very life.
I tried to stop drinking even as my body screamed in protest. Every swallow was a battle between the beast I had been and the man she believed I could become.
