Page 10 of Beast’s Surrender, Beauty’s Revenge

CHAPTER TEN

ALMAS

Was it that Percival didn’t need to eat?

Clearly, he’d survived some time locked up in the tower, unable to free himself or pull away enough to find sustenance. Whatever magic preserved him, it did not seem to require the normal bodily functions most people had to account for.

Still, he’d been interested in the food the men were cooking. We’d both had a moment, mouths watering, with the long, hard days in the forest making any reprieve seem all too worth it, that we’d considered getting closer.

Hells, I’d even considered whether or not I could bite my tongue and ignore the insult for good food and a chance to rest in relative safety.

Of course, I knew what the man had implied, what he’d expect from me, and—and I hadn’t considered it before a chill worked through my limbs and I realized that yes, here too. Yes, everyone.

And why? Because I didn’t look as imposing or threatening as my companion? In truth, I wasn’t, but I had found him. I was capable! I was worthy of respect and decent treatment.

Wasn’t I? Why not me?

I gripped Percival’s arm, marching us through the woods fast, nerves pricking at the back of my neck as I listened for pursuit. I didn’t think they would risk following us, not after Percival’s threat, but I didn’t want to risk it.

Gods, I wouldn’t be able to sleep that night.

“Almas—” Percival said, once the sky had turned a darker shade of blue and we risked an uncomfortable situation if we didn’t take a moment to arrange ourselves for the night.

I took a shuddering breath and came to a stop. I had to face him, knowing that he had seen me so readily assessed and dismissed by those men.

There was a shame in it, even though I’d done nothing shameful at all. Still, the feeling made it difficult to look at him.

I forced myself to turn around and face him properly.

“Why did you?—”

I chewed on the sides of my tongue. Percival could’ve simply said no, claimed me as his own, and that might’ve settled matters, particularly if he’d offered up half of the fresh bread to go along with the roasted venison.

But he hadn’t. He’d offered them nothing but clarification and demanded an apology in return.

While the stranger had seemed none-too-pleased to offer one, that wasn’t the part that’d shocked me.

Percival had spoken up for me without my request. Without any goading. He hadn’t left space for compromise or tried to salvage what he could out of the situation, because he seemed to value what the men had on offer less than he valued—well, me.

While I wanted to excuse all this as something that’d happened simply because of the manacles on his forearms, or maybe due to the fact that I’d brought him out of the dark, it wasn’t that. He didn’t seem stuck or even particularly grateful that I’d gotten him out—and why should he be, when I intended to use him?

He was simply decent, which wasn’t at all what I’d expected when I went hunting down the Beast, but I caught myself before asking outright why that was his impulse—a question that was more about me and my fractured sense of self than about him or anything he’d done.

“Thank you,” I whispered instead, “for standing up for me and not—not on top of me. What you said, how you said it—it meant a lot.”

Percival’s brow furrowed, a pinched expression crinkling the skin at the outer corners of his eyes. I flinched into my shoulders. He pitied me; that had to be it, and this was such a silly thing to waste a thought over, that a stranger did not see me as a person.

What did I care for a stranger’s perception of me?

Except that it scratched at all the vulnerabilities that had sent me running from my home, reaffirming to my mind that there was nowhere I could go where I would not face the same problems and no value that I had beyond that surface-level appreciation.

I inhaled shakily, and Percival took a tiny step toward me as I stared at the ground between us.

I expected him to tell me that wasn’t a thing to thank him for, or that I was being silly for being so caught up on what, logically, was basic human decency. I didn’t know how to tell him that it was far from basic and all too rare to experience firsthand.

Instead, his arms twitched upward, and the aborted gesture had me lifting my head curiously. When I met his eye again, he only nodded.

“You are most welcome,” he said ardently, feeling beyond reckoning infusing his words.

That was when I realized the purpose of the movement—he held his arms out, offering an embrace.

He wasn’t demanding one, or pressing for contact for some selfish reason.

No, as I stood there, mouth slack, Percival was offering me something beyond himself—comfort, for my own sake. Connection. Something I could pick up or leave untouched as I liked.

And with a choked sound, far too like a sob for my own liking, I threw myself forward. My arms twined around his waist. I squeezed him hard, desperate for a touch I didn’t have to think about, to question.

A niggling shadow in the back of my mind told me that I should have, that this could all be some game or a honeyed trap just set to manipulate me.

But no. No, Percival told me things as they occurred to him without pretense. If he was this good at playing me, well, then I deserved to lose.

The thing was, I didn’t think so. Percival seemed earnest, even kind. Kinder, by far, than the monster I’d expected. Kinder, certainly, than the one I was running from. So I let him hold me and held him back, until my stomach rumbled.

“The bread,” I muttered, rifling in my pack for it and holding it up between us. “Split it with me?”