“Wed?” My fingers dug into the wooden arm railings. “Wed?”
“Well, yes. I assumed that’s what you would want. Isn’t that what men and women do, after what happened last night? You could get . . . with child.”
I pushed my way out of the chair, eyes wild, pacing a little in the strangling bedsheet. “No, I can’t. I haven’t had my cycles in months, not since Father’s serum stopped working. And you . . . you . . .” I wanted to remind him he wasn’t even human, he was a collection of animal parts made to speak and look and kiss like a boy. Oh god, what had we done?
I collapsed back into the chair, a hand over my mouth. I was hardly a prude when it came to such things. Half the girls who came to Lucy’s teas probably had indiscretions with men they weren’t engaged to, but this was different.
This was Edward. This was a murderer.
“No,” I stuttered. “I don’t want to get married. We can’t.”
He swallowed, though his eyes still gleamed with hope. “All right, then. Yes, you’re right, we should wait until after we’ve cured ourselves. Then we’ll have a lifetime together.”
“No, Edward, you don’t understand.”
The light in his eyes flickered. “What do you mean?”
“It was a mistake,” I said, though my voice broke. “I care about you, but I was lonely. I needed someone . . .”
“Juliet, shh,” he started, shaking his head a little too quickly.
“ . . . but I’ve never stopped loving Montgomery. I thought you understood that.”
For a moment the entire room was still, no wind at the window, no cracking in the fire. Just me, and him, and Montgomery’s name between us.
“Montgomery?” he repeated, barely above a whisper.
When I didn’t answer, his hands curled on the wooden armchair rails so hard the wood splintered. I jumped at the reminder of how strong Edward could be, how quickly his moods could shift. He pushed himself up to pace before the fire. “Montgomery left you. He didn’t come back for you. I did.”
My heart started pounding. This was wrong—talking of Montgomery here, now.
“I must get home. It’s nearly morning. I’ll need to give myself an injection, and I haven’t any here.”
I crawled out of the chair and snatched my dress from the floor, shaking it out and struggling into fabric that was stiff with dried blood. I started to reach for my coat, but Edward grabbed my arm. “Wait.”
I didn’t dare look at him. “I’ll come back tonight and we’ll work on the serum.”
But his hand held me with an unnatural strength. Outside, the wind howled all the same warnings that my heart was whispering to me. My thoughts turned back to the broken chair rail and how easily that could be my bones splintered in two. I shivered, but not because of the cold.
Sharkey picked his head up and growled low in his throat.
“He’ll never understand what’s inside you,” Edward whispered. “He wants Moreau’s daughter, the girl he used to know, but that’s not who you are now. You’re no one’s daughter anymore. You can think for yourself, take care of yourself. You’re Juliet, and that’s enough, and Montgomery will never fully understand that.”
His other hand slid to touch the delicate skin above my rib cage but I twisted out of his grasp, not certain if I dared believe his words.
“The professor will worry,” I stuttered.
“I don’t care about the professor. I won’t let anything, or anyone, come between us.” He stepped close enough that I could feel his breath on my neck, warm and moist. I noted a different smell in the air—an animal smell. Not Sharkey’s light musty scent, but something heavier, more primal. I felt like here, in this moment, I was seeing that tenuous line between man and Beast I had been so curious about.
“I love you, Juliet.”
Sharkey stood up now, growling louder. I could tell by the deeper timber in Edward’s voice that the boy I knew was slipping. The Beast was used to getting his way, and I was refusing him what he wanted most—me. How far would he go to get what he wanted?
I had to be careful, now. Very careful.
“Edward, please . . .”
His fingers curled into mine nearly hard enough to bruise. When I met his gaze, my breath caught. His pupils were already starting to elongate. In moments the Beast would fully emerge. He leaned close enough that his lips grazed my earlobe. “I won’t let you go.”
Sharkey barked now, twice, very loud.
“I must get home,” I said, trying to keep my shaking voice under control. “If I don’t, the professor will send half the police after me, and they’d soon trace me here. We can’t let them find this place. Find you. I’ll come back tonight, and we’ll be together.”
I forced myself to look him in his animal eyes. I ignored how broad his shoulders were growing, how dark the hair on his arms was becoming. I pulled my lips in a smile that I prayed would convince him. His tight grip eased a small degree, and I cautiously slid from his grasp. I reached for one of my boots, though the moment I picked it up, the knife slid from its holster and clattered to the floor.
Blast. I dove for it, but he was faster.
His hand clamped over my wrist. Sharkey exploded in barks that tore at my ears.
“Let me go!” I lunged for the knife again, but it only seemed to excite his predator instincts more. As he clutched my wrist, I could feel the bones in his hand shifting and popping as the transformation came faster.