I twisted the doorknob, ready to sneak out. To my surprise, Montgomery was already waiting on the other side. He’d beaten me to it.
His eyes met mine, and they were the deep blue of a flame.
“May I come in?” he asked.
MONTGOMERY ADDED ANOTHER PIECE of wood to the small fireplace in my bedroom. I watched him working, remembering how he’d laid my fires for me when I was a little girl. He’d been so quiet back then. He was still quiet, and yet impossible not to notice. It wasn’t just how he’d grown into a powerful young man, but also a certain stillness to the air around him, as though even the fire springing to life in his hands knew he could be trusted.
He brought the fire to a roar, spilling flickering light over the bedroom’s soft curtains and thick duvets bursting with goose-feather down. I wondered if I looked the same to him, against such an elegant backdrop, when he had fallen in love with me amid jungle vines and the crashing sea.
“It was a rash decision,” he said. “But it was the best I could think of in the moment. If I’d shown up at your door after midnight, with your dress torn and muddied, they’d have thought me a villain at worst. If they’d allowed me time to explain I’d rescued you from the masquerade and escorted you home, I’d be a polite stranger, and they’d have thanked me profusely and dismissed me. Telling them we were engaged gives us the ability to be alone, to travel together, to explain why we sometimes sneak off just the two of us.”
“I understand. It only came as a considerable shock. I haven’t seen you in months. For all I knew you were dead. And I’ve already lied enough to the professor, when he’s done nothing but show me kindness.”
He tucked back a loose strand of blond hair. “Is it that far from the truth?” he asked quietly.
I let the roaring fire fill the silence. On the island, I’d never wanted to be apart from him. But now there was a rift between us wide as the ocean I’d passed through, alone and wounded. He’d shown up at the masquerade amid the swirling masks and looked at me as if nothing had changed.
But everything had changed.
I’d shared a bed with Edward the night before. I’d made love to a murderer, while I’d blindly thought I was safe in his company. I’d been worse than a fool.
“Why didn’t you come for me sooner?” My whispered words blended with the crackling of the fire.
He settled on the bed next to me, amid the silk sheets and sea of pillows that were a million miles away from the sparse simplicity of the island where we’d fallen in love. Then he took my small hand in his much bigger one, and ever so slowly brought it to his lips.
My heart roared to life just like the fire. The memories of him pushing me away in that dinghy were still so tender, and I wasn’t certain I was ready for this again. I’d spent months healing from the sting—such deep wounds didn’t patch over in a day.
“It was complicated,” he said, keeping his voice low. “When I followed Edward here, of course I thought of you. I wanted to come find you every day, and apologize for parting the way we did, and say that I’ve thought of you constantly.” His hand tightened in mine, not letting me drift away like that dinghy’s rope had so many months ago. “And yet every time I thought of a life together, there was too much in the way. At first it was the fate of the beast-men; if I had left them there alone, I would have never forgiven myself.”
“The beast-men are gone, now,” I whispered.
“Yes, but now Edward stands between us. I want a simple life, Juliet. No monsters in our closets, no jumping at shadows. Before I could have that life with you, I wanted to resolve the question of Edward. Then I planned on finding you, and having that life.” He’d moved quite close on the bed now, as my pounding heart was all too aware. He reached up and cupped my chin in his hand. “I never stopped loving you. I never will.”
There on the satin duvet, in the quiet intimacy of my bedroom, logic seemed to have left me. He’d wounded me so deeply, and yet he was still the young man I’d fallen in love with. Could I throw away a lifelong friendship over an old wound?
“I missed you,” he muttered.
His lips brushed against my cheek. I asked myself if I could forgive him so easily. But the answer was simple, as we sat in the intimacy of my bedroom. Yes, yes, yes. I’d forgive him anything.
I leaned in to him, and he kissed me. I had dreamed of seeing him again for so long that it hardly felt real. I pressed my lips to his again and again, dizzy in the moonlight streaming in from the high windows.
“Juliet.” He whispered my name against my cheek like a caress. The feel of his warm skin woke me as if from a dream, as if I’d merely been sleepwalking through life since leaving the island.
I pulled his head down, kissing him again. Not softly this time. My breath started coming fast, my pulse pounding. He returned it just as passionately. I wanted to kiss him forever, never let him leave me again.
His thumb found my dress’s neckline, running along the place where the fabric ended and skin began. As he trailed kisses down the length of my neck, he pulled the fabric over my shoulder, replacing it with his lips.
I leaned back, hands coiled in his hair, thinking of how making love to Edward had been a mistake. I should have saved myself for Montgomery, the man I truly loved.
What would he do if he found out?
Montgomery stopped and sat abruptly. His gaze fell to the bare skin of my shoulder. I parted my lips, confused, and touched the tender place where he’d just kissed me.
My fingers found the rough scratches from where the Beast had clawed me.