Page 17

I glanced down at the crumpled-up letter again. Once more asking myself why I was doing any of this. Why did I care? But at the end of the day, he was my father.

My only family.

If I didn’t help him, it would make me no better to him than a stranger.

“Come in, wife,” the Beast called out before I even knocked on the door.

My hand shook as I reached out and turned the handle, pushing the heavy wood inward before stepping inside.

For a moment, I was taken aback by the interior. Everything was dark wood with engraved accents. There was a massive desk with a roaring fire behind it, and bookshelves lining three out of four of the walls.

The Beast stood by the fireplace, the cloak he wore making him seem even larger, which seemed unbelievable.

“How did you know I was out there before I even made myself known?” The question didn’t really matter, nor did his answer. I was stalling from the real reason I was here.

The Beast looked over his shoulder at me. The flames from the fireplace, coupled with the fact this room didn’t have a single window to let in sunlight, gave it all lowlights and eerie shadows.

“I’ll always know where you’re at, Belle. I can sense you in any part of the castle. I cansmellthe sweet scent that surrounds you.”

My face heated at his words because they seemed so very intimate, and then when I thought that, the memories of what we shared last night came back to mind.

He turned and faced me, and I told myself not to look, but still I glanced down at his trews, seeing he was already hardening, as if my very presence was an aphrodisiac.

His gaze flickered to the crumpled-up paper in my hand, and I looked down to stare at it, loosening my fingers around the edges.

“My father sent a letter,” I said almost absentmindedly. “He’s asked for help.” I lifted my head and stared at the Beast. “From you. Monetary help. Of course.” I swallowed harshly, feeling embarrassment that I was asking the Beast for this.

It didn’t matter if we were legally husband and wife. I’d only been here for such a short time.

And the shame that my father continuously got himself into these messes, and that I was the one who bailed him out, had my face heating and had me glancing down to the ground in humiliation.

When I felt his finger under my chin, lifting my head up, I stared into his eyes.

We didn’t say anything for long moments, but the low humming sound he made could’ve been interpreted in many ways.

Pleasure. Empathy. Displeasure.

“I’m sorry,” I found myself saying, and if the Beast’s expression could soften, I felt like it would’ve in that moment.

He cupped the side of my face, his palm so big that one could easily cover my entire head.

It wasn’t lost on me every time I was near him that the Beast could break me as if I were nothing but a toothpick between his teeth, snapping me in half until I was but a splinter.

“My father’s troubles aren’t your concern but?—”

“He’s your family. Your only family.” He smoothed a claw gently along my jawline. “That was the past, though. You have me now. So if he needs help, that’s an extension of you and I’ll gladly step in. Because I care for you.”

I felt my belly tighten, my heart skip a beat. How could this Beast, so big and fearsome, be gentle and soft? How could he completely go against everything I’d ever heard about him?

Was he just misunderstood or was he this gentle only with me?

I cupped the back of his palm, my hand so insubstantial compared to his, his fur so soft beneath my touch.

I smoothed my thumb over his prominent knuckles, could feel his body visibly shiver, and heard a deep sound leave him. Because of me.

“I will leave momentarily. I will fix whatever wrongs he’s done that directly affect you.”

“I’ll go with you,” I said instantly but he was already shaking his head.