Page 20 of Roses in the Dark: A Beauty and the Beast Romance

“Oh, Forwal,” I move forward and come up behind him. I wrap my arms around him from behind, pulling his back to my chest. I lean my cheek against his back. “It wasn’t your fault,” I say. “They were scared. You couldn’t have done anything to prevent this, and you didn’t do anything wrong. They were just afraid.”

“We never found the second girl,” he whispers. “I don’t know what happened to her.” I continue to hold him tightly, and I just focus on breathing.

In and out.

In and out.

In and out.

We can do this. We can get through this moment. We can do this and somehow, everything will be okay.

“What about the third girl?” I shouldn’t ask, but I suddenly need to know. I desperately need to understand, and Forwal might not be as forthcoming with information in the future. “Did you lock her in the dungeon, too?”

He nods, but doesn’t speak for a long time, and I wonder what he’s thinking. I wonder what makes him think of the other women, of the ones who came before. I wonder what makes him consider these memories from the past.

I wonder what makes Forwal go to that place.

There’s so much about him that no one knows. He’s a mysterious recluse: someone people need, but whom they are terribly afraid of. He’s someone who doesn’t ask for what he wants. He simply demands it and he receives what he asks for.

Demanding is always easier, though, because you don’t have to deal with the possibility of being rejected. No one is going to tell you no if you don’t give them a choice. No one is going to embarrass you or humiliate you by turning you down. When you demand, you receive. When you ask, you take a risk.

“She lived here in the dungeon for a very long time,” Forwal says.

“Did you save her?”

“I saved her.”

“From what?”

“A fate much worse than me.”

“She died,” I say, but it’s not a question. It’s obvious. Three times Forwal has tried to save people and three times they have died. This obviously hurts his heart. He’s obviously had to carry this burden alone.

He doesn’t say anything and even though I want to ask him more about it, even though I want to hear more about it, I know there isn’t time for that. Not right now.

“Mrs. Paughts sent me,” I tell him. He pulls away and turns around to face me. Confusion fills his face, but then it clouds over with suspicion.

“Why?”

“There’s a disturbance.”

“Someone is coming for me,” he says. This is not a question, and I nod slowly.

“Good,” he says. “Let them come. Now leave me.”

I watch him: tall and dark in the shadows. He’s big, and I understand why people call him a monster, but he isn’t. Not really. Not to me. Perhaps he shouldn’t be seen as a monster to anyone, but death changes people. Pain changes people.

There’s only so much one man can be expected to deal with alone before his heart breaks and cracks.

There’s only so much.

I should go back to Mrs. Paughts and find out what the staff is going to do to defend the mansion. If men from the village are coming, they’re going to try to destroy it. They’re going to try to destroy everything. They’ll damage the house and they won’t care who’s inside of it.

Their argument might be with Farwol, but their hate consumes them. They won’t care that innocent workers are hurt. They won’t care that I am hurt. They won’t care about anything but revenge.

“I don’t want to leave you.”

“Do it,” he growls at me, turning to stare at me with those dark, dark eyes.

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