The next morning, I stop moving. I’m sprawled in the garden, barely conscious, when I hear footsteps.
“Sire.” Rosalie’s voice sounds far away. “Sire, please. You have to get up.”
“Why?”
“Because giving up isn’t who you are.”
“I don’t know who I am anymore, Rosalie.”
“I’ve known you since you were born,” she says firmly. “And you’re not a quitter. You’re proud, stubborn, and way too determined to let anything beat you. Even something as big as this.”
My voice is barely a whisper. “She chose to leave.”
“She chose to help her father. That’s different.”
“Is it?”
Rosalie is quiet. Because we both know the truth. If Belle wanted to come back, she would have by now. But she hasn’t.
“The rose,” I manage. “How many…”
“Three petals left, sire.”
Three. I close my eyes. At least it’ll be over soon.
The bond gives another sharp tug, and I choke with the pain of it.
“I love you,” I whisper into the darkness, hoping she can hear me somewhere in the space between our souls. Hoping the bond carries my words even as it breaks. “I love you, Belle. And I understand. I do. You deserve better than a Beast.”
Another petal falls. Only two left now. I can feel myself fading. The edges of my consciousness blurring. Everything going dark, distant, cold. And maybe it’s better this way. Maybe…
Then I hear a sound. It’s faint, distant, but there. Are those… hoofbeats?
I try to lift my head, but I can’t. I can barely breathe.
I feel our bond pulse again; it feels different this time.Reaching.
“Pierre!” Oh my God, it’s her voice! “Pierre, where are you?”
I must be hallucinating. Dying. Because she’s not here. She’s home with her father, where she belongs, where she chose to be.
“The garden!” Someone else calls from near me…Rosalie? “He’s in the rose garden! Hurry!”
I hear footsteps. Running. I try to open my eyes, but everything’s just so heavy.
“No. No, no, no…” My omega’s voice is closer now. “Pierre! Pierre, wake up!”
Her hand touches my face. It feels warm and gentle.
Belle. It’s Belle. My beauty has returned!
I force my eyes open, and there she is. Kneeling by my side. Tears streaming down her perfect face, her soft hands on my face.
“You came back,” I rasp weakly.
“Of course, I came back!” She’s crying hard. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I took so long, my Beast. Please, Pierre, please don’t leave me…”
Behind her, I can see the rose. One petal left. The last one, and then…
