Page 7 of The Beast Between Us (Once Upon A Forever #2)

Ella

“Is this room truly meant for me?” I ask, turning in slow wonder. It feels larger than my father’s entire house.

“Yes, my Lady,” Oswin replies with a soft smile. “It’s the best room in the Manor.”

“Please, call me Ella,” I say, offering him a smile of my own. “I’m nothing more than a common servant.”

“Whatever pleases you, Miss Ella,” he says, dipping his head respectfully. “I shall return shortly to escort you to dinner. Sire prefers the old habit of eating seated at the table…regardless of the empty chairs.”

He hesitates, then adds, “And the Beast doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Are they not one and the same?” I ask, genuinely curious.

Oswin’s expression shifts…thoughtful, a touch wary. “’Tis difficult to say, Miss Ella. Both yes… and no. They are of one body, but two minds. Sometimes at war. Sometimes in uneasy peace.”

“Seems difficult,” I murmur.

“Aye,” he nods. “For all of us.”

With a final dip of his head, Oswin steps out and closes the door behind him.

“Okay,” I murmur to the empty room. “Let’s see if I can clean up before dinner.”

The hem of my skirt is still damp and stained from the long walk to the castle. My clothes are far from suitable for dining with someone like Mr. Evermere…but I can at least try to look presentable. Put together. Not broken.

It’s a small thing.

But in a world like this, sometimes the small things are all we have.

Removing my clothes sends a fresh jolt of pain through my side and back, sharper now without the dull pressure of fabric. I wince, but I don’t stop.

The pain will fade…eventually. But a first impression? That’s a one-time chance.

And I refuse to waste it.

Thankfully, a large basin of water sits waiting in the washroom.

How kind.

I dip the hem of my skirt into the water, working slowly with the scrubber and soap. It isn’t perfect, but I clean it as best I can before hanging it to dry.

While the skirt drips quietly by the window, I take a moment to look around the room.

It’s grand…far grander than anything I’ve ever known. High ceilings, tall windows with velvet curtains, carved wooden trim along the walls. A small fire crackles in the hearth, more for comfort than heat. The air smells faintly of lavender and old stone.

Still, despite the richness, the room feels… hollow. Like it hasn’t truly belonged to anyone in a very long time.

My thoughts drift back to him.

To Mr. Evermere . To the Beast.

He’s not what I expected.

Not a monster, not entirely. But not fully a man either.

He’s tall…unnaturally so…and broad, his frame stretched by the shift that froze halfway through.

One arm is more beast than human, clawed and furred; his shoulders are uneven, one hunched as though carrying weight no one else can see.

His face… I struggle to describe it. There’s nobility in his jawline, intelligence in his eyes, but part of his mouth doesn’t sit right, pulled slightly by something animal beneath.

And yet he speaks like a man. Moves like one, even when the shadows ripple unnaturally around him.

He didn’t frighten me.

Not the way my father did.

No… Mr Evermere is something else entirely.

Something powerful. And broken.

Just like this place.

Just like me.

I ease down onto the edge of the bed, careful of my side.

The sheets are soft. Too soft. The kind of luxury I’ve only ever seen in shop windows or read about in books. It feels wrong to be here. To be treated kindly. To have space to breathe.

I don’t know what Mr Evermere expects of me.

He says I’m here to repay a debt, to serve his House. But he hasn’t barked orders or dragged me into a kitchen or forced me to scrub floors. He looked at me like he saw me…not as property, not as a burden.

And that might be the most unsettling thing of all.

I clutch my arms around myself and stare into the fire.

Maybe he is a monster.

But maybe he’s not the worst one I’ve known.

A knock at the door startles me. I quickly pull the blanket over my bare legs and smooth my hair with trembling fingers.

“Enter,” I call once I’m covered.

Oswin steps in with a small nod, arms carefully cradling something wrapped in deep blue velvet.

“Sire has sent you an evening gown, my lady,” he says, laying the bundle gently on the bed. “It belonged to his mother. She sewn it herself before her untimely passing. Sire insisted you wear it.”

“Oh,” I breathe, eyes fixed on the gown as the velvet is drawn back.

The dress is a soft, radiant gold, the color of candlelight and faded memories.

The fabric shimmers faintly in the firelight, not with glitter or embellishment, but with the kind of worn elegance only age can give.

The bodice is fitted and structured, trimmed with delicate embroidery that curls like vines.

Off-the-shoulder sleeves fall in soft layers, and the full skirt flows like liquid sunlight, pooling over the bed in elegant ripples.

It’s beautiful.

It’s too beautiful.

“I can’t possibly wear this,” I whisper, shaking my head. “It’s not meant for someone like me.”

Oswin smiles kindly. “Forgive me, my Lady, but I believe it’s meant for you exactly .”

He’s older…his hair more silver than gray, combed neatly back to reveal a soft, lined face that carries the weight of many years and secrets.

His uniform is simple but impeccably kept, and though he moves with care, there’s a steadiness to him.

A quiet strength. The kind of man who stands his ground even when the world turns dark.

“Nonsense,” I say with a soft laugh, brushing my fingers along the golden fabric. “But I’ll care for it as if it were the most treasured possession a person could own.”

His smile deepens, crinkling the corners of his eyes.

And for a moment, the shadows in the room don’t feel quite so heavy.

***Thorne***

“What could possibly be causing her delay?” I grumble at Oswin. “She fell asleep, Sire,” he replies calmly. “She was quite embarrassed and said she would dress quickly.”

I pace once, then again, jaw tight. “Asleep? At this hour?”

The beast snarls beneath my skin, restless and irritated. Hunger coils through me…not just for food, but for something I refuse to name.

“She’s been here long enough to learn the rhythm of this house. We do not keep the table waiting.”

All right, she’s been here less than a day, but that’s more than enough time to learn the rules. Oswin assured me he warned her that we are never late for dinner.

He says nothing, which somehow infuriates me more.

“She thinks herself above the rules already?” I snap. “Or perhaps she enjoys testing how far she can bend them.”

“She did not strike me as defiant, Sire,” Oswin says carefully. “Just tired and a bit… sore.”

The word lodges under my skin like a splinter.

I growl low in my throat and turn away from him just as the door creaks open behind me.

“I am terribly sorry,” Ella says, walking carefully to the empty spot set at the table. “I must have been exhausted after such an eventful day. Please, forgive me. I won’t let it happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t,” I growl, retaking my seat as Oswin pulls out her chair.

The Beast presses against my skin, bristling…furious that I wasn’t the one to seat her.

“Since when are you such a gentleman, Beast?” I mind speak to my wolf.

She lowers herself slowly, as if every movement requires effort. I catch the faintest wince as she settles in, and my claws threaten to unsheathe.

Tired and sore, Oswin had said. My teeth grind together.

I should have asked why.

I should not care. Mate or not.

She folds her hands neatly in her lap, eyes flicking to the food but not reaching for it.

“Eat,” I say, sharper than intended. “It will grow cold.”

She jumps at my tone and reaches for her fork with trembling fingers.

The Beast snarls again… this time not at her, but at me.

“Since when do you care about anything but control?”

“Mate,” he unhelpfully reminds me.

My gaze drifts to her despite myself.

The gown fits her perfectly. My mother’s handiwork…soft, flowing, elegant. She’d sewn it long ago, not for herself, but for the woman she believed I would one day bring home.

Not a gift of vanity. A promise.

A symbol of hope for a future that never came.

Until now.

Ella sits small and uncertain in the candlelight, shoulders tense, eyes fixed on her plate.

She looks like a dream… and I hate it.

Hate the ache it stirs.

Hate that she looks more like a bride than a servant.

And hate most of all the part of me… the part of us … that wishes she’d smile.

“Tea, my Lady?” Oswin asks.

“Won’t you be joining us?” she turns to him.

“I’ve already eaten, my Lady,” he replies with a gentle smile.

“I’ve asked you to just call me Ella,” she says, smiling in return.

“I think not,” I grumble before Oswin can respond.

“Well, why on earth not?” she asks, genuinely confused. “It is my name, and I’m not a lady of any home.”

“Would you like milk?” Oswin cuts in smoothly.

“Oh…sure.” She smiles at him when I don't answer.

“Oh dear,” Oswin says, examining her cup. “It appears this teacup is chipped.”

“Toss it and get her a better one,” I bark.

“Absolutely not,” she gasps, snatching the cup before he can take it. “The chip’s at the top. It’ll still hold tea just fine.”

She runs a thumb gently over the flaw, almost reverently.

“I like it,” she murmurs. “There’s something comforting about it. It’s been used. It has history. It’s survived.”

She lifts her gaze, not to Oswin, but to me.

“Broken doesn’t mean worthless. It doesn’t mean you throw it away. It just means… It’s been through something. And it’s still here.”

The Beast quiets.

So do I.

She pauses, fingers curling protectively around the cup as she examines the small chip.

“So many people throw things away the moment they stop being perfect. Like they’ve stopped being useful. Like flaws are something to be ashamed of.”

Her voice is soft, but steady.

“But I’ve always thought… broken things still have worth. Sometimes more worth. Because they’re still standing after whatever tried to break them.”

She lifts her gaze back to mine, not defiant…but sincere.

“I don’t need everything around me to be pristine. I just need it to be real. And if something carries a crack or a scar and still holds on?” She smiles faintly. “That’s the kind of thing I trust.”

The Beast stills.

And for the first time in a long while… I don’t know what to say.