Page 19 of The Beast Between Us
We round the corner…
And I stop.
I can’t breathe.
Roses.
Everywhere.
A garden tucked along the castle’s far side, overflowing with blooms. Bright, wild, radiant…alive.
Colors so vivid they don’t seem real…deep crimson, gold, violet, white. Petals catch the morning sun like fire.
“I don’t understand,” I whisper.
Oswin steps beside me, but he doesn’t speak right away. Instead, he lets me take it in…the impossible contrast between this vibrant, living haven and the lifeless decay on the other side of the castle.
“These roses shouldn’t exist,” I murmur, reaching out to brush my fingers along a soft red petal. “Not with everything else so… dead.”
“They exist,” Oswin says gently, “because some part of him wants them to.”
I glance at him.
“This garden is untouched by the Beast’s fury,” he explains. “It has been from the beginning. When everything else withered, these roses bloomed. No matter the season. No matter the storms.”
“But why?”
“I believe it’s because this was his mother’s garden,” he says quietly. “She tended it when she was alive. With care. With love.”
The breath catches in my throat.
“Even after her death,” Oswin continues, “Sire and his father continued to tend the garden so it would never die. Even when Beast and man became one, and everything on land started to wither, this garden remained untouched. Something inside the Beast…someonein him…refused to let this part die.”
I sink slowly to my knees beside the nearest bush, overcome by the scent of roses and something deeper… something aching and sacred.
“The air doesn’t feel heavy here,” I say, leaning in to smell the nearest rose.
“Untouched inallways, my Lady,” Oswin says gently.
“So the man is still in there,” I whisper. “Somewhere.”
“Yes, my Lady.” Oswin’s voice is low. “Somewhere beneath the rage and sorrow… he is still fighting.”
Feeling eyes on me… again… I look up.
He’s there.
The Beast.
The man.
But this time, he’s not hidden behind glass or shadow. He stands in full view at the edge of the garden, still as stone, half-light catching the ragged edges of his form. Not fully man. Not fully Beast.
Not smiling.
But not angry either.
His eyes meet mine…and hold.
