Page 36 of The Beast Between Us
Her footsteps quicken behind me, and I slow mine just enough.
“Where are we going?” she huffs from somewhere at my back.
“Not far,” I admit.
We stop at the final door on the floor. I open it and step inside, hurrying to light the candles along the wall so she can see.
The moment the soft glow fills the room, I hear her gasp.
And I smile.
A real smile.
Iknewshe’d like this room.
I may never be able to claim my mate, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make her happy.
“I’ve never in my entire life seen so many books at once,” she breathes, wonder filling her voice.
I take a slow turn, looking around my library…not through my own eyes, but throughhers.
Hundreds of books line the shelves, floor to ceiling. Some spines cracked with age, others newer. Fantasy. History. Philosophy. Tales from foreign lands and stories written by hand in journals I’d collected over the years.
My own collection.
My sanctuary.
And now… I wonder if it could behers,too.
“It’s so wonderful,” she whispers, eyes wide with awe as she drifts between the shelves, fingertips gently brushing the spines of worn leather and parchment.
“However did you obtain so many stories?”
Her voice carries the kind of reverence most reserve for sacred places.
I watch her carefully…how she walks slower here, how her shoulders ease for the first time since Byron stepped onto my land.
“I’ve been collecting them for years,” I say. “Some were gifted. Others I hunted down myself.”
I pause, then add, “Many were my mother’s. She believed every home needed more stories than silence.”
“She was right,” Ella whispers, still turning slowly in the candlelight. “Would it… I mean, if it’s okay…”
“Out with it, Ella,” I say, smiling despite myself.
She stops. Just looks at me. Eyes wide. Smile soft.
“That’s the first time I’ve ever seen you smile,” she murmurs. “What a wonderful thing to witness. Even more so than a hundred times a hundred books.”
I rub absently at my chest, where something tight and unfamiliar tugs.
“Your question?” I ask, trying to sound stern, but my voice is quieter now.
“Oh!” she laughs, a soft, delighted sound. “If I promise to be very gentle, would it be possible for me to borrow a book or two?”
“My sweet Ella,” I say, voice low but sure, “you can read every book on these shelves if you so wish.”
Her eyes brighten even more, lighting up the entire room. “That could take me years.”
