Page 6 of The Beast Between Us (Once Upon A Forever #2)

Thorne

“They’re here, Sire,” Oswin says from the doorway. “Shall I show them up?”

“Very well,” I reply, nodding once as I retreat to my usual place in the shadows.

The quiet stretches.

Footsteps echo faintly below…too light to be his. That must be her.

I remain still, cloaked in shadow, the dim firelight catching only the edge of my boots.

I don’t know what I expected when Holloway offered her. A bargaining chip? A trembling mouse? A child with wide eyes and no spine? But now that she’s here… I’m curious.

Not hopeful. Not foolish. Just… curious.

What kind of daughter is a man so quick to give away?

What kind of girl walks willingly into a monster’s den?

The Beast stirs, unsettled. He doesn’t like strangers. He doesn’t like change. But he’s quiet…for now. Watching, as I am.

Let her come. Let her see.

Let her fear the monster in the shadow.

A knock at the door.

“Enter,” I call, leaning back in my chair.

“Sire,” Oswin says, bowing slightly, “I have Mr. Holloway and his daughter…Miss Holloway.”

“Thank you, Oswin.” My gaze flicks toward the doorway, though I don’t rise. “Mr. Holloway, what is your daughter’s given name?”

“I’m perfectly capable of answering that question myself, my Lord,” comes a soft voice. Steady. Controlled.

Unexpected.

“Quiet, child,” Mr. Holloway snaps, tightening his grip on her arm. “Speak only when you’re spoken to.”

She says nothing more. She’s learned the cost of defiance. The question is…what is that cost?

I wait. Silence.

“Are you going to share it?” I ask, my tone rougher than intended.

“My apologies, your Lordship,” Mr. Holloway says quickly, dragging the girl forward. “This is Ella. So… is our deal completed?”

Pathetic excuse for a man.

My eyes remain on her.

Time for a test.

I rise slowly and step out of the shadows, into the full glow of the firelight. Her heartbeat quickens…I can hear it clearly…but she doesn’t flinch.

Her father does.

She’s small. Too small. Like life has chipped away at her piece by piece. Her dress is plain, worn thin at the elbows, the hem frayed and damp from travel. Mud clings to the edge of her skirts, yet she stands tall, chin lifted.

Dark curls spill from a hastily tied ribbon, framing a face that’s far too solemn for someone so young. And her eyes…like storm-washed glass, gray or perhaps blue…fix on me with a look I can’t quite name.

Not defiance.

Not resignation.

Something quieter.

Steadier.

She does not flinch.

Not even at the sight of me.

Interesting.

“Do you come to me of your own free will, Ella?” I ask.

She glances toward her father.

He doesn’t speak. Just shoves her forward again, fingers digging into her arm like he means to leave a mark.

“Yes, my Lord,” she says quietly.

A lie.

But one told with practiced grace.

“Do you understand that you will be in servitude to my House for the rest of your days, unless I choose to grant you freedom?”

“Yes, my Lord,” she replies.

Her voice is steady. Controlled.

But her eyes…those storm-washed eyes…hold mine with a weight that lingers.

It’s almost as if she’s begging for something.

Not mercy.

Not kindness.

Something deeper.

Something even she doesn’t have words for.

“You truly are a Beast,” she says.

Not with malice.

Not with fear.

But… with interest.

“Ella,” her father snaps, yanking her back. He leans down, whispering harshly into her ear…unaware that I can hear every word as clearly as if he’d shouted them.

“If you do anything to mess this up, I’ll come back in the night and slit the Beast’s throat. You wouldn’t want his blood on your hands, would you? It’s already bad enough that your mother’s blood is rotting against your flesh.”

The Beast inside me roars .

My vision sharpens, heat flaring behind my eyes. I step forward, slow but deliberate, each footfall shaking the floor beneath us.

“This will be your only warning,” I growl, voice deeper now…less man, more monster. “Remove your hands from what is no longer yours.”

He stumbles back, startled by the sudden change in the air, by the shadows that stretch just a bit too far.

I take Ella’s hand…as gently as the Beast allows…and pull her behind me.

The rumble in the walls deepens. Thunder rolls above. The temperature drops like a warning.

“I suggest you leave, Mr. Holloway,” I say, no longer bothering to hide the edge in my voice. “Our arrangement is complete. You are to be off my land and out of my house in three days.”

“Three days?” he sputters. “That’s not enough time to find another home!”

“Three days,” I repeat coldly. “Not a moment longer.”

He looks like he wants to argue again, but something in my face…or perhaps in the shifting air…finally silences him.

Oswin appears in the doorway without being called.

“See Mr. Holloway out,” I say.

“Yes, Sire.”

As Oswin leads him away, I feel Ella trembling behind me. Not from fear of me , I realize.

But from the weight of what he said.

I turn and look down at the frail figure before me.

She barely reaches my chest. Being caught mid-shift has left me broader, taller…my silhouette more monster than man. I tower over her without meaning to.

I know I’m a beast.

But that doesn’t mean I must always act like one.

Be gentle, I urge the creature within me. Please… just this once, listen.

I brace myself for the daily fight for control as I crouch before Ella…but strangely, the Beast is silent.

Watching. Listening.

But not resisting.

“Your father is a cruel man,” I say gently. “His words were meant to wound you. But neither of the things he said are true.”

“You heard him?” she asks, eyes wide.

Yet she doesn’t back away.

“I hear everything ,” I admit, careful to keep my smile hidden. A Bast’s smile is never comforting. “I can hear the blood running through your veins.”

She swallows, but doesn’t flinch.

“How do you know what he said wasn’t true?”

“For one,” I say, “instinct. And I trust mine implicitly. I know…without doubt…you could never take a life. The death of your mother was not by your hands.”

“It was,” she whispers, eyes darkening. “I mean… I wasn’t the one who twisted the knife. But I am the reason she’s dead.”

I study her face…every fractured line of grief, every tremble she tries to hide.

“Pray tell,” I say softly.

“My birth,” she whispers. “It was hard on my mother. Too hard.”

She looks down, fingers twisting in the fabric of her skirt.

“Her body couldn’t handle the complications. She passed only hours after I came into the world.”

The weight in her voice isn’t just grief… It’s guilt. As if surviving was the first sin she ever committed.

The Beast stirs at the thought…at the injustice of her father blaming her for something so cruel.

Please… settle, I whisper inwardly. You’ll frighten her.

But it may already be too late.

Ella gasps softly and glances around the room, her fingers tightening.

She can feel it. The shift in the air. The ripple of something ancient and angry just beneath the surface.

All the residents of Brackenford Valley can feel when the Beast wakes.

And he’s waking.

“What of the other?” she asks, her voice soft, uncertain.

“The threat?” I confirm.

She nods, eyes lifting to meet mine…worried, but not for herself.

The Beast…amused now…chuckles low in the back of my mind and settles once more into the shadows.

The air lightens. The walls release their tension. Ella breathes deeper, not even realizing what just passed through her.

I tilt my head, studying her.

“Do you worry I can’t protect myself?” I ask.

“My father is a cruel man,” she admits softly. “I worry he might try to make good on his threat.”

“You need not concern yourself with my safety,” I assure her. “It would take the entire village of Brackenford Valley to catch me off guard… and even then, I doubt any of them would survive the attempt.”

Her eyes widen slightly, but she doesn’t pull away.

I straighten, letting the moment settle.

“Now,” I say, gentler this time, “let’s collect your things. Oswin will show you to your chambers. We’ll reconvene tomorrow to discuss your responsibilities.”

“I don’t have any things,” she whispers.

I pause. “I’m sorry?”

She doesn’t look at me when she replies.

“Father wouldn’t let me bring anything… apart from the clothes on my back.”

Her voice is quiet, but there’s a hollow ache behind it. The kind of sorrow that doesn’t need volume to be loud.

No possessions. No books. No keepsakes. Nothing of her own.

He took even that from her.

Once again, the Beast emerges.

Too fast this time for me to seize what little control I have. The Beast is, once again, fighting for full control.

Heat pulses beneath my skin, bones creak, and shadows twist unnaturally at my feet.

Kill , he whispers in my head. And for once, we’re in agreement.

“Oh my…” Ella gasps, clutching her chest. Her eyes widen, not in terror…but in shock. Awe, maybe. Or confusion.

She takes a step back, but doesn’t run.

I don’t move.

Don’t speak.

All of my strength is channeled into holding the line. Keeping my half of the shift.

This is our daily struggle.

Man versus Beast.

He always pushes for control.

I fight to keep what little remains mine.

Neither of us will win.

Not unless one of us surrenders.

And I refuse.

“I apologize,” I say at last, after several long minutes spent wrestling the Beast back into his corner. “It appears the Beast is not inclined to sit quietly this evening.”

“Sire,” Oswin says gently from the doorway, “the maiden’s room is prepared. Perhaps it’s time for her to rest?”

I hear the unspoken words behind his careful tone.

You and the Beast need to settle yourselves… before the whole valley drops dead from fright.

“Yes,” I nod, stepping aside. “Oswin will show you to your chambers. Please…rest, Ella. The evening meal will be ready shortly.”

“Oh… shouldn’t I be the one to prepare it?” she asks, hesitantly.

“Not on this day,” I say. “Rest. Settle into your new home.”

With one final look, she follows Oswin from the room.

I don’t miss the way she favors one side of her body…And neither does the Beast.

He stirs again…slow, coiled, and simmering just beneath the surface.

Because pain like that doesn’t come from accidents.

It comes from monsters .

And I am not the only one wearing that name.

“Mine,” the Beast whispers. “Mate.”

Longing surges forward, sharp and aching. The thought of a mate… of a future that isn’t shadowed by claws and fury… of a family.

It’s foolish. Dangerous.

I know what she is to me. The one created just for me. The other half of my soul. My mate.

But I will never allow her to bear the weight of that bond.

Not while I am like this.

Not while I am trapped somewhere between man and monster.

She’ll never accept me as I am.

And I would never ask her to.

“Drop it,” I growl to the Beast, my voice rough with restraint. “She deserves better.”

The Beast does not answer. But I feel him watching her retreating figure as intently as I am.