Running from His Claim (Beauty and the Beast #2)

Chapter 23

I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth, and his eyes snapped to mine. I could see the remorse, the anguish, as if he was living through it all again. He pushed his hair back.

"The fire panicked me, and the side of me that kicked in wasn't the need to run. No, if that had been it the story would be so much better. I could have used my speed or even flown out of there. No, the instinct that kicked in was to kill. All I knew, all that thrummed in my veins was the need to remove the threat. Did I mention that I was still young? Or that I hadn't fed in, oh, a month, because I was trying to reconnect with my human side?"

My hands covered my sobs as I ached for him. "Oh, Vic!"

"My vision blurred. When I came to, Vincent was yelling at me, pinning me to the ground that was soaked in fresh blood. And you know what he said?"

My tears were flowing silently. This boy had been through so much...

He smiled cynically at my tears. "He said, 'This is why we don't nest. I never want to see you trying to befriend these little shits again. Got it?' And all I could do was nod. He covered our tracks and dragged me out of there that very night." His eyes dropped and he clenched his fists. "That's the full story."

I stood there leaning against the rock, the joy of the night forgotten as I tried to take in his pain. How had he moved on from that? How could the guy I knew, the laid back, borderline lazy painter with a wicked smirk and an affinity for flirting, have survived such a dark past and come out so awesome?

"Why aren't you running?"

It took me a moment to process his low words. When I did, I wiped my tears away so I could read his expression. It was guarded, half defiant and half pleading. I didn't understand him right now. "Why would I?"

"Didn't you hear what I just told you?!" Was he angry now?

I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry again. "I heard every word."

"Then get away from me, Belle!" he yelled.

I opened my eyes and shook my head. "No."

"No?" he echoed, stepping closer menacingly. "Do you want to die?"

"No, but you won't hurt me."

"You don't understand, do you? I keep warning you about my past but you don't get it." He closed the scant distance between us and slammed his hand on the rock near my head, making me flinch. "Every time I screw up, there is a death toll, a body count. I didn't ask to be this, but it's what I am. So if you're smart, you'll run from me. I'd run from me!"

I looked into his eyes, feeling so broken for him, and a tear escaped my eye. His brows lowered as I raised my hand and gently cupped his cheek. "I'm sorry."

"Why're you sorry?" he asked tenderly.

"I'm sorry for your loss," I whispered.

"My what?" Now he just sounded baffled.

"All those people, those deaths you will always carry on your conscience. I'm sorry for the loss of your ability to forgive yourself. But Victor, I never met all those people, I never knew them. Nothing I say or do will ever bring them back. But I know you," I added, stroking his cheek. "I see you, everyday. And it may not be smart of me, but I care about you, too much to punish you for something you will never forgive yourself for. So no, I'm not going anywhere."

He made a small sound like a whimper, and his lips were suddenly on mine. He pinned me against the boulder with his body, his arms on either side of me. The kiss was hot but short and when he drew back, there was deep sorrow swimming in his eyes. "How is this right?" he murmured softly. "How could I deserve this, to bask in your light, when I have nothing but darkness to offer you?"