Page 4 of The Beast Between Us
If I ever win this war inside me.
“Persistent in what way, Oswin?” I ask.
“He’s throwing stones at the door, Sire,” Oswin replies, a hint of dry disapproval in his tone. “Says he won’t leave until he’s spoken with the Lord of the house.”
I sigh and cross the room, settling into the high-backed chair in the shadowed corner. From here, the light won’t touch my face. He won’t see what I’ve become.
Not until I want him to.
“Very well. Bring him in.”
“Yes, Sire.”
Years ago, before I lost control to the beast within, Mr. Holloway came to my family seeking a loan. He wanted to purchase a stretch of land that bordered the Evermere estate…land that technically still belongs to me. My father agreed, so long as he paid a monthly stipend for the privilege.
Lately, Mr. Holloway has stopped making his payments.
And that simply won’t do.
“Sire…Mr. Holloway.”
“Don’t come any closer,” I say, and the man halts halfway across the room. “What brings you to my estate, Mr. Holloway?”
“I came…”
“There really is onlyoneacceptable answer,” I cut in, my voice cold.
“I’ve come to return the land,” he says, his words slightly slurred.
“Is that so?” I lean forward just enough. He can’t see me clearly from where I sit in shadow, but if he looks hard enough, he’ll see the outline not of the man, but of the Beast.
I wait.
His heart stutters, then quickens.
I smile.
Good.
“Y–yes,” he stammers. “Nothing grows there. Not even grass. The ground’s gone sour, and no one will work it for fear the curse will spread. I…I can’t afford it anymore. So I’m returning it.”
“Interesting,” I say, folding my hands. “I accept the return of my property. However, I must insist upon full repayment of the monthly stipends you’ve missed over the past two years.”
“What… I-I can’t afford that, your Lordship.”
“Then I’m afraid we have a problem, Mr. Holloway.”
It’s moments like this when the Beast and I are in perfect harmony.
I rise slowly, stepping out of the shadows and nearly laugh at the fright that contorts the old man’s face.
“I’ll do a-anything,” he stammers, dropping to his knees. “P-please, don’t kill me.”
I don’t move closer.
I don’t have to.
He’s already broken.
