Page 13 of The Beast Between Us (Once Upon A Forever #2)

Ella

I’ve been here for several weeks now. During my free time, which is often, I spend my time reading in the library or Lady Evermere’s rose garden. When it’s not storming, of course. Which isn’t very often, these days.

Even now, I’m helping Oswin tend the roses when a sudden banging echoes from the front door.

“Never in years have there been so many visitors,” Oswin mutters, already turning to head back inside the manor.

The memory of Lord Byron’s last visit flashes through my mind, and I scramble to my feet. I rush after Oswin, determined to stay close…just out of sight…in case someone tries to hurt my friend again.

“And what exactly is it that you have planned?”

The deep voice startles me, and I whirl around so quickly I lose my balance, landing hard on my backside. Pain radiates through my side, but not nearly as bad as it would have been even a week ago. I’m healing quickly.

“How on earth does someone as large as you move without making a single sound?” I groan, glaring up at Thorne. “It’s not natural. Do you float or something?”

I smile to show I’m teasing.

He doesn’t smile back. “You didn’t answer my question.”

I push to my feet, brushing dirt from my palms. “I was following Oswin… to make sure he’s safe. I was going to stay hidden unless I was needed.”

“What am I to do with you, Ella?” he mutters, shaking his head.

There’s no real anger in his tone. Only a kind of quiet exasperation. If anything, it sounds almost… fond.

“You could let me help,” I offer. “Or at least let me try to be useful.”

He stares at me, expression unreadable. “You already are. Infuriatingly so.”

“That felt like a compliment and an insult all in one.”

“Good,” he grumbles, but I catch the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth.

I tilt my head. “Are you smiling?”

“No.”

“You were.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You are,” I grin, stepping closer. “You like me.”

His growl rumbles low, but it’s half-hearted at best. “Careful, Ella.”

“Or what?”

He steps closer…so close I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. “Or I might decide to like you more than I should.”

That shuts me up.

For a moment, the world stills. It’s just Thorne and I in a bubble of solitude.

Then he turns away, breaking the spell. “Come on, shadow. If you’re going to lurk, at least do it where I can see you. But, stay behind me.”

“Gladly,” I whisper, falling into step behind him.

We reach the door just as Oswin pulls it open. His tone is carefully neutral, but the tension in his shoulders betrays him.

“Sir. You are no longer welcome on this property. I must ask you to leave.”

“Nonsense,” a familiar voice calls out. “I have come to see my daughter. And to offer your master a proposition.”

“Father,” I whisper, dread crawling up my spine.

“Worry not,” Thorne says beside me, voice calm but edged like a drawn blade. “He won’t touch you.”

Oswin shifts, squaring his shoulders. “You’ve been told to leave, sir.”

My father scoffs. “And yet, here I am. I’ve traveled all this way for a conversation, not a confrontation. Surely your master isn’t so far gone he can’t entertain a guest.”

I feel Thorne tense beside me.

“You’re not a guest,” Thorne says coldly, stepping forward. He opens the door further, and I get my first glimpse of Father in weeks. He looks…different. “You’re a man who sold his daughter to cover his debt. You have no place here.”

My father’s expression tightens, but only briefly.

“She was mine to give,” he says. “And I gave her to someone who could provide far better than I ever could.” He glances at where I stand. “She should be thanking me.”

“Ella is not a possession,” Thorne growls. “And she is not yours.”

My father lifts his hands, mockingly innocent. “Peace, peace. I’ve come with a generous offer, that’s all.”

Thorne doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to. The air between them says enough.

“I’ll speak,” my father continues, “and then I’ll go.”

Oswin looks to Thorne for guidance, tension radiating from every line of his frame.

After a long moment, Thorne gives the smallest of nods. “Speak.”

My father straightens his coat like he’s preparing to speak in court, not at the threshold of a manor that wants him gone.

“There’s been interest,” he says. “From a merchant family in the north. Wealthy. Reputable. Their son is of marrying age and has taken quite the liking to Ella’s… portrait.”

I flinch.

“There is no portrait,” I say sharply.

“There is now,” he replies, tone flippant. “I described you to an artist and paid for a sketch. It was quite flattering. You’re welcome.”

“You’ve already sold me once,” I snap. “You don’t get to auction me off again.”

He clicks his tongue. “Don’t be dramatic, girl. It’s not an auction. It’s a marriage proposal. I’d think you’d be grateful for options. Unless…” His eyes flick to Thorne. “You’ve grown attached to this creature?”

Thorne’s claws twitch at his sides.

Oswin clears his throat sharply, a warning.

But Thorne doesn’t move. Doesn’t growl. Doesn’t lunge.

Instead, he speaks…calm, cold, final.

“If you value your life,” Thorne adds quietly, “you’ll leave before I decide your next breath isn’t worth my mercy.”

My father’s eyes narrow, but even he isn’t foolish enough to miss the warning in Thorne’s tone.

“I’ll give you time to consider the proposal,” he says, stepping back. “They’ve offered to pay twice the debt I owed you for the girl. And I get a handsome stipend besides. We all win.”

Thorne steps forward, slow and deliberate, until the shadows gather around him like a second skin.

“You dare to put a price on her again?” His voice is low and lethal. “Twice the debt. Ten times. It wouldn’t matter. She is not for sale.”

My father’s smirk twitches. “Everyone has a price, Beast.”

“I suggest you stop speaking before I give in to my Beast’s demands and remove your head from your shoulders.”

The wind outside howls in sudden fury, rattling the windows. Even the light seems to pull back.

“I’ll take my leave,” my father mutters, backing down the steps. But before he goes, he throws one last look over his shoulder. “You’re making a mistake, girl. This is the best you’ll ever do.”

Thorne doesn’t move until the last echo of hooves vanishes into the distance. Then, with a slow breath, he turns and closes the door. The latch clicks softly into place.

Silence settles over the foyer.

Then, without turning to look at me, Thorne speaks…quiet, firm, and resolute.

“You are not for sale. Not ever again.”

And somehow, I believe him. Down to my soul.

∞∞∞

Every time I close my eyes, my father’s fury finds me.

I’m slammed against the wall, his fists punishing me for smiling at the postman.

I’m thrown out into the freezing night to sleep with the animals because I didn’t wake early enough to cook breakfast.

I’m shoved into a wooden chest, the lid slammed shut, because I laughed too loudly at something I read.

Memory after memory, flash after flash, tear through the darkness behind my eyelids.

Each one heavier.

Each one sharper.

Each one real.

I wake again and again, shaking, soaked in sweat, my throat raw from screams I barely remember letting out. Seeing him again after all these weeks has pulled me right back into fear. My mind can’t seem to tell time anymore. It thinks I’m still there. Still his.

Finally, I give up on sleep and throw the covers back.

When I open my door, I freeze.

Thorne is sitting on the floor outside my room, back resting against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes lift slowly to mine, dark with exhaustion.

“What on earth are you doing on the floor?” I whisper.

“You were having night terrors,” he says simply, voice gravel-soft. “I wanted to be close by… in case you needed me.”

I blink at him, stunned. “You… heard me?”

His gaze flickers to the floor, as if ashamed. “You cried out,” he says. “More than once.”

My throat tightens. I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold despite the warm air.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You didn’t,” he says firmly. “But whatever haunts you… I’ll keep it from getting close again. I swear it, Ella.”

I want to believe that. I do. But my chest still aches, and my fingers tremble at my sides.

“I’m scared,” I admit, barely more than breath.

His eyes sharpen, the storm behind them rising for a beat before softening. “You don’t have to be,” he says. “Not here. Not while I’m breathing.”

I shift my weight, hesitating…ashamed of the words building on my tongue, but unable to swallow them down.

“I know it’s… improper,” I say softly, “and I won’t ask it of you again, but…could I… sleep in your room tonight?”

His head jerks up, startled. “What?”

“Just to sleep,” I add quickly, cheeks burning. “It’s just… I feel safe when you’re near. I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.”

He doesn’t speak at first. He just stares at me like he’s searching for something beneath my skin. My heartbeat stumbles.

Then, with a slow exhale, he rises to his feet, towering but gentle.

“You can,” he says, voice rougher than usual. “If it helps. You can.”

His eyes shift ever so slightly, glinting in the candlelight. Not beast, but not entirely man either. Emotion swirls behind them. Confusion. Affection. Longing. Something deeper he won’t name.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

He nods once, then offers his hand…not as a command, but an invitation.

And I take it.

“You will sleep in my bed,” he says, already turning toward his chambers. “And I’ll take the chair.”

“Oh no,” I protest. “I couldn’t possibly take your bed from you.”

“There is no debate, Ella,” he says, softer now. “You’ve endured enough tonight. You need rest. Proper rest.”

I open my mouth to argue, but stop. There’s no command in his voice. Only protectiveness. And something else. Something heavier.

“Alright,” I whisper.

He nods once and silently leads me into his chamber. The room is warm, lit by the low flicker of firelight. The bed, massive and carved from rich, aged wood, is draped in soft blankets and deep pillows that practically glow in the amber light.

Thorne steps forward and carefully folds back the covers, then turns and gestures for me to lie down.

I climb in slowly, settling against the pillows. They smell like cedar and something faintly smoky. Like the woods after rain. Like him.

He tugs the blanket over me with hands that are far too gentle for claws, and I watch in silence as he retreats to the fireside. He lowers himself into the chair with a groan, resting one elbow on the armrest, his jaw tight.

I stare at him through the golden light and can’t hold the question in any longer.

“Thorne…” My voice is quiet, but he lifts his head. “Why do you care so much?”

He blinks, caught off guard. “What?”

“Why do you stay close when I scream in my sleep? Why do you protect me the way you do?” I sit up slightly, the blanket slipping from my shoulder. “Why do you look at me like I matter?”

His eyes flare…just faintly…and then dim again as he looks back at the fire.

He doesn’t answer right away. The silence stretches so long, I start to think he won’t speak at all.

But then…

“Because you do,” he says, voice rough. “You matter. More than you should.”

I swallow, heart hammering in my chest.

He shifts in the chair, exhaling hard.

“There’s something you don’t know about men like me,” he begins, eyes still on the flames. “Men with beasts inside us… animal souls. We don’t choose who we love. We don’t fall the way normal men do. We’re born with only one… one …person meant for us. A fated bond. Unshakable. Eternal.”

I forget to breathe.

“And you,” he says, finally looking at me, “you are mine.”

The words fall between us, heavy and irrevocable.

“I care for you,” he admits. “More than I should. But I won’t act on it. I won’t touch you beyond what you allow. I won’t claim what was never meant to be claimed.”

“Why?” I whisper.

“Because I’m not safe,” he growls. “I’m cursed. Half-beast, half-man. Unpredictable. I’ve hurt people, Ella. People I cared for. I won’t risk that with you.”

The ache in his voice cracks something deep in my chest.

I shift, sitting all the way up now. “But I do care for you,” I say, heart pounding. “You’re not just a beast. You’re kind. Protective. Loyal. You make me feel safe.”

His breath catches.

“You’re not a monster,” I whisper. “At least… not to me.”

He looks at me like the ground’s just shifted under his feet. But before he can speak, a wave of exhaustion finally pulls me under. My body sinks back against the pillows.

And I whisper, barely audible, “I like you, Thorne. All of you…”

Silence stretches between us, filled only by the crackle of the fire.

Then he speaks, his voice low and unsteady. “Ella.”

I blink my heavy eyes open, just enough to see him still sitting by the fire, his posture rigid with something that feels too big for the room.

“I need you to hear something before you fall asleep completely,” he says. “Something important.”

I nod, just slightly.

“You are no longer serving your father’s debt,” he says, voice steady despite the emotion behind it. “That burden was never yours to carry. I free you, my Ella.”

My heart stutters.

“You owe nothing. Not to him. Not to me. You are free to go wherever you please, and I will see to it that you’re cared for. Home, land, protection. Whatever you need. Even if it means never seeing you again.”

The silence that follows is vast.

I don’t speak. Not right away.

Instead, I let his words wrap around me, settle into every space that’s ever known fear or ownership or shame. They unravel something tight and trembling in my chest, something I hadn’t even realized was still clinging to the edges of my heart.

Finally, I sit up, my voice quiet but certain.

“Thank you… for your words. For your kindness. For your freedom.”

His eyes drop as if bracing for my goodbye.

“But,” I continue, “regardless of my role… I’ve felt free from the moment I walked through those doors. And the only place I want to be, debt or no debt, is at your side. As your mate. Whenever you’re ready to accept me.”

Thorne’s breath shudders out of him as if someone had just struck his chest.

“I’m not human,” he rasps. “I don’t look like a man. I look like the beast I am.”

Without a word, I slide from the bed, padding barefoot across the room. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even look up as I approach.

But when I stop beside him, I reach out, take his scarred, clawed hand in mine, and lean down.

Softly, I kiss his cheek…just beside the edge of where his human skin fades into something more.

“I love you,” I whisper. “Beast and all.”

Then I turn, walk slowly back to the bed, and slip beneath the covers once more.

Thorne doesn’t move for a long time.

But in the firelight, I watch as a single tear slips down his cheek.

And the storm outside, ever echoing his heart, finally begins to calm.