The Scarlet Rose: A Beauty and the Beast Retelling (The Skazka Fairy Tales) by Valia Lind

Author:Valia Lind [Lind, Valia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Skazka Press
Published: 2021-10-05T16:00:00+00:00

23

Standing there, leaning against the tree, I'm unable to look away from him. It's difficult to take him all in at once. He's bigger than I imagined, even when I was picturing—I'm not sure what I was picturing. Some grotesque monster, maybe. But he doesn't look like a monster. Still, he doesn't look all the way human either.

The fur—because I have no other name for the patches of hair that cover him in random places—looks blue, almost black, but not quite. The shirt he's wearing is more of a tunic, but even I can tell it's made from the best material. Gold stitching runs down the arms and around the wrists. He's bulky inside the shirt, probably because of the hair. His hands have it the worst and almost don't look human anymore.

“You called me by name.”

It takes me a second to realize he's spoken. Tearing my gaze away from his body, I meet his eyes. My heart skips a beat as we hold the gaze, something otherworldly passing between us. He seems to be breathing heavily, as if he ran all the way here.

“What?”

“You called me by name. I have not heard you use it...before.”

I realize he's right. Until this very moment, he's been the creature and nothing else. It was another wall I put between him and me to keep myself protected. The others—Dina, Larisa, and Yevgenii—were different. I don't have to keep the same walls around them. And calling him by his name was going to change everything for me. It's like a protective mechanism, but now it's been shattered into a million pieces. Because I don't think I'll ever go back to thinking of him as just 'the creature.'

Not when he's bleeding on my behalf.

That doesn't mean I'm going to make things easy for him. Now that the initial shock of seeing him is wearing off, it's being replaced by annoyance. And a little bit of anger.

"This is why you've been hiding from me?" I wave my hand up and down, staring at him incredulously. He's taken back by my sudden mood shift but recovers quickly.

"I thought you'd hate me on sight."

The truth, so simply spoken, surprises the both of us. His eyes flash, as if he's confused at why he uttered those words. I try not to let them matter. I have to hang on to the annoyance at least. He's put me through so much, for nothing.

The rational part of my brain knows that it's not nothing to him. He's valid in feeling and thinking whatever it is he does about this situation. But it's stupid of him to think that what he looks like matters to me.

"Well, you didn't need to worry about that. I hated you anyway." I turn away, ready to get back to the castle. I'm tired, covered in someone else's blood and my own bruises, and I want my bed. That thought stops me. I'm not thinking about the bed back at my papa's house. I'm thinking of the one at the castle.

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