Page 24 of The Beast of Ashwood Manor

Everyone surrounded Cale. Even Eugenia was smoothing her hand down the table, and Annie looked in high spirits for once.

Edgar hooked an arm around Cale’s shoulder and shook his head. “You gonna build a new chicken coop for me, too?” he asked.

“Yes, I can try. I’ve built many of those.”

My jaw clenched, and I stepped forward.

Annie saw me first and hushed everyone else. They all looked over at me and went quiet, and I instantly felt like an ass for ruining their excitement. “What’s going on?” I asked.

“Oh, just a gathering,” Annie said. “It’s been a while, and we just—”

“I canseethere’s a gathering.” I looked from the table to Cale. “Did you do this?”

Cale straightened his back, as he usually did when I was around. “Yes. Well, it was supposed to be a surprise. For you.”

“For me?” I faltered, my whole view of everything suddenly changing. But then I looked from the table to the wood pile in the distance. It was obvious he had used the wood from it. I had tried to keep it stocked for the winter months when the snow made everything bitterly cold. “You used the wood from the pile?”

He hesitated, but got out, “I did.”

My veins grew hot, and for a moment, I saw the blood of Ashwood cross over my eyes. The beast within me fumed, and I shut my eyes and growled. “We save that pile for burning during winter.”

“I didn’t use that much. I only—”

“Come inside, Cale.” Had it been any other day, I would have looked the other way. But today, it was just the wrong time. I was exhausted, physically hurt, hungry; and anger was my only reasoning. I had spent too much time in Ashwood this time, and now that monster within me wanted back out. It was stupid—and I knew it—to get so angry over something so minuscule.

But the rage, that monster . . .

Cale didn’t get the hint. He didn’t back away as the others did when I got angry. They knew what could come out. He didn’t. But he also wasn’t listening to me, and my bloodboiled.

Grabbing him, I yanked him forward toward the kitchen. He stumbled as I threw him inside, and his garland fell to the floor. I slammed the door behind me as he barreled into the table.

I was ready to let the words spew from my mouth. He was the target I’d chosen for my anger, and I could feel it coming on, but before I could say anything, he turned around and looked up at me.

“I’m sorry, Gil,” he started. “I didn’t . . . I didn’t know it was for burning.”

“Did no one tell you at all?” I yelled. “Was it Mary who planted that idea in your head?!”

“No! No, it wasn’t her. I-I just did it. I thought you’d . . . like it.” He slumped back against the table. “I’m sorry. I take all the blame. I don’t want anyone else getting in trouble because of me. Especially over a pile of wood.”

I drew my breath in through my nostrils, fuming, and grabbed his collar.

Cale’s hands gripped my arms, keeping himself upright as I came close to his face.

“It’snotjust a pileof wood.”

His eyes searched my face, blinking. I tightened my hold on him, and his chest rose and fell quickly. “I can build the pile back up. If you supply me with a couple small trees, I’ll chop wood to fill the pile. I’ll help in any way I can, I promise.”

“The point isaskingfirst, Cale.” My hands loosened on him as I realized my nails were growing longer, the claws of the beast coming out.

I drew away from him quickly and turned around, willing the claws away and hoping he hadn’t felt them. When I looked up, I saw Mary’s concerned face peeking through the window of the door.

“Gil . . .” Cale whispered. “Please forgive me.”

Turning, I looked over at him, and I let out a breath. Something in his voice and eyes tamed the monster within me, and my claws drew back in. I grimaced at the pain.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Stop apologizing. This was all me.”

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