Page 32 of Beast of Blood and Roses (Dark Ever After Fairytales #1)

Chapter Thirty-Two

Rosalie

I sat up in bed, pushing the tangled covers aside. Bright sunlight streamed through the windows, and I was restless, agitated. I wanted answers, not more sleep. Beast stood hesitantly in the doorway as if he were afraid I’d start screaming at him to get out the moment he stepped inside.

“You know something, don’t you?” I was tired of everyone keeping secrets from me.

He took a deep breath, his massive frame filling the doorway as he seemed to consider his words carefully. “It’s not what I know that is the problem. It’s what I don’t know.”

Frustration built up in my chest like steam in a kettle. “What does that mean?”

“I had Marcel and Colette try to find out what happened to your mother because you were so heartbroken when you talked about her.”

“I told you she left when I was a baby.” The words came automatically, rehearsed from years of repetition. I wasn’t sure how I felt about him digging into my past, but the gentle way he was looking at me suggested he could hear the pain I’d learned to bury beneath those well-worn words.

Beast stepped closer. “The woman in your dream…does she feel like a woman who would abandon her child?”

I crossed my arms defensively over my chest, but I could feel the familiar ache starting to crack through my defenses. “But it was just a dream. Nothing more. My mother abandoned me.”

He stared at me with such intensity I felt like he could see straight through to my soul. I could tell he had more to say—much more—but after a long moment, he simply nodded, not arguing with me.

Anger and frustration whirled around me like a storm, making my hands shake and my chest burn. “Why would my father lie to me?”

“I don’t know.”

My gaze fell on The Witch’s Heart resting against his neck, the dual-colored stone catching the morning light. My pulse quickened as I remembered what had happened the last time I’d touched it, the way the power had washed over me like a tidal wave.

“Would that amulet show me the truth?”

He sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging as if what he knew was crushing him. “As I’ve told you before, it shows glimpses. Fragments that might not make sense until later. Are you sure you’re strong enough to see what it might reveal?”

I sat taller, steel entering my spine. “Yes.” I climbed out of bed, my bare feet feeling the cold floor. I still wore the wrinkled the T-shirt and pair of jeans from yesterday—they were dirty and rumpled, but I didn’t care .

I strode over to him with determined steps.

I needed to find out the truth, no matter how much it might hurt.

My dad was many things—a gambler, a drunk, a man who’d sold his own daughter—but I had to know the truth about my mother.

What really happened to her? Did she really abandon me, or was there something more?

The man in my dream had looked at me with love, such tenderness. It couldn’t be real. Otherwise, my whole life had been a lie, and I’d grown up unloved and unwanted when I could have had a family who cherished me.

Beast carefully lifted the chain off his neck. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

He placed the warm amulet in my palm, the dual-colored amulet pulsing against my skin. The warmth spread up my arm, and I knew there was no going back now. Whatever truth The Witch’s Heart wanted to show me, I was about to see it.

“Show me my real father,” I commanded.

Once again, the air above the stone began to ripple and blur like a mirage. An image slowly formed, wavering but becoming clearer with each passing second.

The woman and man from my dream were locked in what looked like magical combat with my dad. Arcs of power flew between them like deadly fireworks, illuminating the room with flashes of brilliant light. The woman’s hands glowed with silver magic while the man wielded golden flames.

But what shocked me most was my dad—my dad was fighting back with dark, writhing shadows that seemed to devour the light around them. The darkness moved like living things, snaking around his arms and lashing out at his opponents with deadly precision.

Magic. My father had magic. Shock stole my breath, followed immediately by a torrent of questions. If he’d had powers, what had happened to them?

The amulet slipped from my suddenly tingling fingers, clattering to the floor as my reality fractured around me. “No,” I whispered. “No, that’s not possible.”

Beast caught the amulet before it could hit the ground, but I barely noticed. My hands were shaking, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

“This can’t be right.” The words tumbled out of me in a rush of denial and panic. “I’ve never seen my father use magic.”

“If his magic were bound, he wouldn’t be able to perform any spells,” Beast said softly.

My voice rose with each word, hysteria creeping in at the edges. “Who would have bound his powers?”

Beast gave me another sympathetic look. “I don’t know…yet.”

He was speaking softly obviously trying to keep me calm, but this was too much for me. My life had been nothing but misery. “If they weren’t bound, we wouldn’t have spent my entire childhood scrambling just to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table!”

I pressed my hands to my temples, trying to stop the spinning in my head. “Magic was never part of our world. If it had been, my life could have been completely different. Why would he keep this from me?”

The room felt like it was closing in around me. Everything I thought I knew about my life, about my father, was crumbling like sand.

Beast gently lifted me into his arms and I snuggled deeper against to him, needing to listen to his heart. His touch was like an anchor in the storm of my emotions, and I felt some of the hysteria begin to ebb. My body trembled as he carried me the few steps back to the bed.

He set me down carefully on the edge of the mattress, his hands lingering on my shoulders to steady me. “I don’t know. But your father has many secrets—secrets that could be dangerous.”

“Dangerous? Dangerous how?” I gripped the edge of the bed.

Beast’s jaw tightened, and I could see him weighing his words carefully. “He might not be who you think he is.”

The simple statement was like a bomb.

A nuclear bomb.

A world-ending bomb.

My world.

I stared up at him, searching his face for some sign that this was all some terrible mistake. “I have to talk to him.” The words tumbled out desperately. “What if this vision isn’t from the past? What if it’s something happening to him right now?”

I started to stand, adrenaline flooding my system. “Those people in the vision, they looked like they were trying to hurt him. Do you think they’re the ones that bound his powers? Why would they do this? What did he do? I have to find out the truth.”

Beast’s hands pressed gently on my shoulders, keeping me seated. “Rosalie, you need to think about this logically. Why would he never tell you that he had magic? Why hide it your entire life?”

But I couldn’t think logically. Everything I thought I knew was wrong. Talking to my father felt like the only way to make sense of any of it.

“I have to find him. Maybe The Witch’s Heart will show me where he is.” I reached for the amulet in his hands, desperation making me bold.

“No.” Beast pulled the amulet back. “The last time you used it twice in a row, you were completely drained. I won’t risk that happening again. I’ll send Marcel and Colette out to see if they can find him. Will you trust me on this?”

I searched his eyes intently, looking for any hint of deception. “They won’t hurt him, will they? If they do, he won’t talk. I need him to tell me the truth, not come up with lies to save himself.”

He shook his head, his expression solemn. “No. I promise they won’t. And he will talk.” Something flickered in his eyes when he said it.

Marcel and Colette wouldn’t hurt him. But Beast was the one who could, and we both knew it.

I swallowed the knot of anxiety in my throat. “Will they ask him to come back here?”

He stood slowly, his massive frame casting a shadow across the bed. “I’ll instruct them to do exactly that.”

I caught his arm before he could turn away, my grip desperate and probably painful. “Promise me you won’t kill him when he comes back.” The words came out broken. “I need to know what happened to my family. I need to know what happened to me. I can’t live in this darkness anymore.”

Beast went very still under my touch, and I saw something flicker across his face—pain, maybe guilt. For a long moment, he didn’t answer, and my heart pounded in the silence.

He turned away from me, cursing under his breath.

“Promise me,” I pressed, my grip tightening on his. “Whatever secrets he’s keeping, whatever he’s done, promise me you won’t hurt him. He’s the only one who can tell me what happened to my family.”

He turned his head away from me, his gaze drifting out the window as if the morning light held the answers he was searching for. The silence stretched between us, heavy and ominous.

“I know what I am, Rosalie.” He put his hand on his broad chest. “I’ve been that way for a long, long time. Killing has been second nature for me, as easy as breathing.” His jaw clenched, muscles working beneath his skin. “But for you, I won’t kill your father. I promise. Even if he deserves it.”

My mouth dropped open, shock running through me like an electrical charge. He gently but firmly wiggled out of my grip, my fingers sliding away from his wrist as he stood. Without another word, he walked slowly toward the door, his shoulders rigid with tension.

I sat frozen on the bed, staring after him. I wasn’t sure what to say, wasn’t sure I could even form words. He must know something terrible about my father, something so bad that Beast, who’d just promised not to kill him, thought he deserved to die.

It couldn’t just be gambling debts. Money wasn’t worth someone’s life, was it? My chest tightened as darker possibilities crept into my mind. What had my father done that was so unforgivable?