A Rose for the Beast

Rude Awakening

The huge bed in her temporary room swallowed her as she laid down for the night. Rosalie snuggled deeper into her pillows, trying to direct her thoughts to anywhere other than Michel. Her efforts failed miserably when the memory of his kiss brought forth complicated feelings from within.

Her fingers caressed her lips as if to touch the memory; to feel him. She had developed a fondness for him. Denying it would be futile. But, she couldn't allow herself to fall any further down this treacherous path. Her duties to her father and her need for freedom prevented her from diving into those ambivalent waters.

The pattering of footsteps from the hallway stirred her from her thoughts. The staff of the castle moved throughout the rooms and halls, repairing and restoring anything damaged by the bandits' raid. She didn't mind the noise. Rosalie welcomed the distraction.

She closed her eyes, tossing and turning to find a comfortable position. Her body and mind remained restless. Eventually she resorted to counting, droning the numbers out one after the other.

Soon, she fell asleep. When she dreamed, she was running through the halls of BelleMontagne castle in a gorgeous gown, adorned with a multitude of gems and jewels. In the dream, Rosalie ran, not away from something, but towards someone.

At the top of the left stairway and down the corridor of the West Wing, she found him. They smiled happily at each other as she leapt into his embrace.

"Why the hell is she still here?!"

Rosalie awoke suddenly to the angry bellow, the vision of her dream gone in a flash. Something crashed to the floor downstairs. She glanced around the room, noting that it was already dawn. Rushing to put on a long robe, Rosalie stumbled out of bed and across the room.

Yanking the door open, she walked head first into a solid, warm body. When she looked up, she nearly fainted.

"Michel!," she screamed as she latched her arms around his neck.

He flinched, then froze in place. After an awkward moment, she withdrew and peered up at him. A bruise marred his cheek, but there were no other visible injuries. She wanted to know what had happened and where he'd been, but he gave her no chance.

"You need to leave. Now."

Rosalie's dark brows drew together. Elation from his return turned into confusion and slight irritation. He had basically kidnapped her and now he wanted her gone? All of the secrecy and enigma had become more of a burden than anything. His wavering and interchangeable moods brought out a side of her she didn't like.

"Why do you want me to leave all of a sudden?," she asked, hoping for a decent explaination.

"You shouldn't be here."

Rosalie shook her head at the meager excuse. He bypassed her to grab a trunk from the closet and she watched through the open doorway as he proceeded to toss several items inside.

"Are you kidding me?," she gave a hysterical laugh, "If you want me gone, why on earth did you bring me here to begin with?!"

Michel threw a bundle of dresses down into the trunk and slammed the lid closed. He picked up the large container easily and started carrying it out of the room.

Furious at his continuous disregard, Rosalie picked up a vase from the bedside table. She gave it a quick apology before launching it at the wall by the door. Narrowly missing Michel's head, it shattered on impact, silencing the entire household.

She cringed at the mess and promised herself she'd clean it up before directing her attention to Michel. He had stopped just inside the doorway, still holding the trunk.

"Why?!," she screamed when he said nothing.

He released his grip on the trunk, sending it to the floor with a loud thud, then spun and pointed his finger derisively at her.

"I brought you here because I thought you could save us!," he roared at her.

She trembled under the force of his anger, retreating backward a couple of steps.

His arm fell to his side and his shoulders dropped. He brought a hand up to rub down his face, exhaustion layering his features.

"I thought you could save me..."

It had barely been audible, but it shattered her defenses to hear the disparaged words. Especially since it came from a man whom she considered to be both her savior and friend.

"Michel, I want to help all of you. Just tell me what to do," she pleaded.

"Nothing can be done. The full moon is nigh. You won't be safe unless you leave before tonight," he said in a flat tone.

Rosalie searched for a solution in her mind, but without any knowledge of the danger they were in, she couldn't produce a strategical way out of the situation. Michel and his servants were incredibly reluctant to help her verbally. She devised a different plan; one that would lead to new avenues and perhaps reveal a way to save everyone.

"If you want me to leave," she said evenly, "then, I will honor your wishes. I did, however, plan a banquet for your staff. It's supposed to be just a small celebration at noon, a little farewell from me."

His piercing blue eyes displayed an almost indistinguishable emotion. It was gone in an instant. She thought she must have imagined the dismay flicker within them.

"It will be over before dusk. Not a second later. You'll be home before the full moon rises," he warned, raising his brows to wait for confirmation.

All this cautioning against the full moon seemed a little redundant to her. She presumed whatever the reason was, it must be incredibly dangerous, even for a lord secure in his stone castle and surrounded by magical creatures.

"Rose," her name sounded so much sweeter when he said it, "Promise me, you'll leave directly after."

Shoving her thoughts aside, she gazed at him innocently.

"Absolutely," she lied.