Page 9 of Ruin & Desire
“That is who you werebefore…”I whisper,myvoice trembling with awe and something deeper, almost reverent.
I ache to turnandover my shoulder, desperate to glimpse the man I see so vividly in the mirror. But when Irisk a glance into the flickering torchlight behind me,he is not there. Only the Beast stands in the gloom,hishorns catching firelightand hiseyes burning gold, monstrous and magnificent. My heart aches with longing, torn between the reflection and the reality, the dream of the man and the shadow at my back.
His jaw tightens. A muscle jumpsinhis cheek.I turn back toward the mirror and see that hisreflectionremainsa man,even as the Beast looms behindme.
“And that,” he growls, pointing at the glass, “is what you are becoming.”
I was so entranced by him that I neglected to really see my own reflection.I watch as my mirroredselfpushesagainstthe man, her back arching for his touch,wanting him. Herlipspartandhereyes close,trusting him to give her what she wants.When I realizewhat she wants, what I want, is for him to take her,I amashamed.
He lifts aclawto mythroatand ittightens slightly.Idon’tbelieve he intends to harm me butto steady me.The darkness aroundme holdsmenot as a shroud but as an embrace.His embrace.And like a good little girl, Iwait, poised for him to strip me bare and take me.
Heat surges into my chest, my throat, and my face and then reality crawls in. Trying desperately to regain my composure, I reply, “The mirrors are not reality. They do not command my spirit.” My voice shakes, but I speak as steadily as I can.
His hand on my belly releases its hold,andI take a step forward, trying to put some distance between us, but he steps in stride.His mere presence swallows me, cold and hot at once. My pulse thunders, but I lift my chin.
“Look. Look at yourself,”I demand.“Thatbeautiful man iswhat you bury beneath claws and cruelty.”
The torchesthrowanxious shadows across the gilded walls,each flame shrinking as if the very bones of the castlerecoil from my defiance. The mirrors tremble on their hooks, as if they,too,fear what has been spoken aloud. His breathcatches,a sharp, broken sound that splits the silence.His clawstremoras theyflex wide,theirtalons gleaming dangerously in thetorchlight. The threatofpure unbridled passionis soclose,ithumsin the air between us. For a single, trembling heartbeat, I am certain he will close thefinal distance,that he will seize me and rip the truth from my lips with teeth and claw, and I am both terrified and desperately yearning for it.
But then, without a word, he’s gone. Shadows consume the place he stood, blending him into the darkness between mirrors.
I stand alone,myheart racing so fast it hurts.
The gallery is silent, yet the mirror before me stillreflectsmy body entwined with his. My throatisbared, my lips parted as though waiting…wanting him to take me.
My wrist pulses with heat. My throat burns with the echo of a touch thatwillnever come.
I am mesmerized by what I see in the mirror.And yet,I hatethat no matter how hard I try,Ican’tlook away.
Lucien
I am lost and defeated by her.
The mirrors have betrayed me.
I stalked into their gallery ready, with my claws bared, anxious to watch her fear, poised to drink it as I have so many times before. But the glass did not obey as it was told. It showed her not as the trembling prey I had asked for but a woman, a beautiful woman yielding to my command. Her throat was bared, ready for the taking. Her lips were parted, hungry for my kiss. Her body, surrendered to a darkness that looked too much like my own. Damn, I would have taken her right there in front of the mirrors.
“Fucking mirrors,” I groan. How dare they show her what I was? How dare they show her a man, scarred and broken yet still recognizably me? She was never to see my vulnerability.
Iwantedto shatter every pane,to tearthe frames from the walls and grind them to dust. But the mirrors held fast, immortalas the curse itself. They forcedme to see what I was, andthey forced her to see me.In turn, they forced me to seewhat she could make of me.They forced me to fear her andwhat she could do to me.That is unacceptable.She is supposed to fear me.
Her wordshadcut deeper than any blade.Stilltheypress into the place where the thorns pierce my chest, aplace Ithought was longdead.She stepped into my shadow and forced me to look at the man I once was.Icould notlook away but knew I had to.
For the first time in years, I long for the man I was.
Mycastle buckedat her defiance. The torches choked,and the mirrors trembled.The curse screamedin my blood, demanding I silence her. My clawstwitched, aching to close around her throat—not to crush but to stop her voice from unraveling me.
And yet…
I flinched.
It was the smallest recoil but enough for her to notice. I had no choice; I had to retreat into the shadows before her fire consumed me.
Her act of defiance unsettled me, I tell myself. And for that, her insolence deserves punishment.
But the truth, theunforgivable truth,is that for one heartbeat, I wantedit allto be real.
For one heartbeat, I wanted to be that man again.
