Page 43 of The Beast of Ashwood Manor

I hesitated in front of Royce and Annie’s room. Looking at Cale, I put up a finger to tell him to wait and knocked on the door.

Annie opened it, peeking through at me. “He’s asleep,” she whispered. “He had a terrible headache, but he seems all right.”

“You’re sure?” I asked. When she nodded, her face soured, and before I could say any more, she shut the door quickly.

I leaned back, hands on my hips, and clicked my tongue.

Annie is the most infuriating—

Catching Cale looking at me down the hall stopped me in my thoughts, and when he saw me, he straightened his back and stumbled to his room, which made me smile.

When I came inside his room, I noticed the floor was strewn with books, many of which laid open with underlined words. There were papers with words he already knew and others that I knew were hard for him to pronounce. He had even written out words for items in the room and set them there, such as on the chairs, rug, hearth, and table.

“Been doing a lot of reading?” I asked.

“I’m trying.”

I cleared my throat. “About the other night . . . and today . . .”

“It’s okay.” He nodded, his lips still in a frown.

“No, it’s not.” I grabbed his elbow gently and turned him to face me. “I’m . . . so full of doubts, and it seems all I do is apologize. When Mary told you about my beast, it made me angry. I didn’t want you to know.”

Cale took my hand in his and squeezed it. “The thing you turn into, does it make you angry?” When I nodded, he looked away and rubbed his neck. “If I need to be away from you when you’re that way, I understand. I suppose I’m just afraid you’ll go back into your tower and I won’t see you for days, like this past week. I have to say I really miss you when you do.”

“You do?” I cocked an eyebrow.

“Yes.”

I sighed. “It was wrong of me to accuse you of pretending. The truth is . . . I missed you too.”

“Are you calm now?” His voice was gentle, and I couldn’t help but smile. “After going after that thing?”

“Yes.” I gazed at him until he blushed and looked away.

Outside, the freezing rain pounded against the roof, and he laughed. “It sure does rain a lot here,” he said.

“Well, I hope right now it makes you feel better, and not sad,” I replied.

He looked up at me and nodded. “I don’t need the rain to make me feel better right now. I have you.”

A hot fire spread throughout my whole body hearing him say that. If he truly had been putting on an act this whole time, he was good at it. But I indulged in the thought that this was all genuine and instead gestured at the rug before the hearth.

“Shall we read?" I asked.

“Yes. I brought up some lemonade from the kitchen for us to drink too. I found something I want to try and read to you.” He plucked a book from the table and made his way to the rug while I poured us both cups of lemonade before settling before the fire. “I don’t really understand the cover, but maybe the story will make sense.”

I brought my cup to my lips and sipped it while Cale opened the book, savoring the sugary sour taste. I leaned on my arm, and he came so close to me that I could smell his hair, which always held a trace of woodsmoke. I wanted to bury my face in it and inhale him. I wondered what his skin smelled like too, and then I wondered what his skin tasted like. Was it salty from working? Or was it lightly perfumed from washing?

“It was a dark night, full of troubles and even worse, bandits,” he began.

I looked at the fire, listening as the words rolled off his tongue. What would it feel like against mine? Soft, warm? Gritting my teeth, I averted my gaze to the book to ward away the thoughts, but when I saw his hands—how slender and long his fingers were—I imagined them in my hair, and then around my—

Moving away suddenly, I coughed, and Cale stopped reading.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, readjusting myself. To become so heated by looking at his hands, imagining kissing and touching him, meant I had gone far too long without another human’s touch.

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