The Beast by Alianne Donnelly Read Free Book Online Page A

anything I must to justify
taking the next book off the shelf.
    I read until I am too tired to make out the
words, and fall asleep with the book still in my hands. What the
writers have begun, my mind continues in sleep. I dream of things
that cannot be put into words. It is as though I am the one living
those things, wholeheartedly engaging in one lurid act or
another.
    I dream of being kissed so deeply that breath
becomes secondary. Of being stripped of my gown and watched by a
burning, lustful gaze. I dream of hands caressing my skin and
sifting through my hair. At times I can feel lips on mine, hot
breath searing me. My heartbeat quickens at such dreams and I awake
in a tangle of sheets, overheated and a little frightened. I fight
to catch my breath and dread falling asleep once more, but
eventually I always do.
    And he is always there, waiting for me to
return to him. His insatiable eyes roam over me; his words are
gruff praise that makes me shiver. I long for him to take me in his
arms again. My body aches without him nearby. I’ve never felt such
things before and cannot seem to control them. They overwhelm me
until, if he does not come to me, I rush to him and cover his face
with kisses, pleading. For what, I do not know.
    From the welling tension, I jar awake crying
his name: “Bastien!”
    I have, indeed, changed.
    I am no longer the same Lyssette who boldly
walked through the gate and stood before the raging beast, daring
him to claim his demanded prize.
    I am the wiser, foolish one who would run
through the doors and throw herself at the cruel man, begging him
to do so.
     

Chapter
Thirteen
     
    Amalia has another new gown. The expensive
blue silk with silver ribbon trimming is the most extravagant thing
I’ve ever seen. It shimmers in the light, like ocean waves. Noelle
beams, watching Amalia twirl about. She is quite proud of the work
she’s done on the gown. It flatters Amalia beautifully, just like
all the other gowns do.
    “Isn’t it beautiful, Lys?”
    “Indeed.”
    “Have you ever seen anything so
beautiful?”
    “I have not,” I say.
    “You look stunning, Mademoiselle.”
    “And don’t I look like a princess?”
    Neither I nor Noelle have an answer for this
but Amalia doesn’t mind or notice. She laughs in delight and twirls
in front of the gilded mirror she ordered to be brought for her. “I
want one just like this in every colour!”
    Noelle looks at me aghast but I shake my
head, assuring her that no more gowns will be necessary for
Amalia’s ever growing wardrobe.
    Amalia screams in terror, shocking us to our
feet. Heart racing out of control I look to see what frightened her
so. Pale faced, frozen to the spot, my sister stares into the
mirror. It is not her own reflection that scared her so. In the
long shadows of dying day, close to the floor on all fours glowers
the Beast.
    He bares his teeth at the noise, his fur
rising in agitation, but he does not growl. Nor, however, does he
disappear as he is wont to.
    “God preserve us,” Amalia whispers, crossing
herself.
    Now the surly beast growls. “God?” He slinks
forward a step, just enough to come into the light. I’ve seen that
fierce look in his eyes before. Something must have angered him
enough to come out of hiding. “God did not make me this way. He did
not lift a finger to preserve me . Why should he bother to
spare you?”
    “L-Lys?”
    “It’s all right, Amalia. Noelle, if you’d be
so kind, please take my sister to her rooms now. I’m sure there are
still adjustments to be done before dinner time.”
    “Yes, my lady.” Noelle curtsies and herds the
gawking Amalia out of the ballroom. I am once again left alone with
my Beast and he is in a temper.
    “Useless wastrel,” he growls, staring after
Amalia.
    I am offended at this and want to rally to
Amalia’s defense. My sister has always liked nice things but she’s
never spent a coin she could not afford to part with. Yet as I
think back, I remember her obsession