It’s not just this new physical strength, though, that’s the catalyst. It’s the shift in perspective that it's given me.
I let people walk all over me my entire life.
My mother. Drew. I let him treat me terribly. I made myself small for him. Not physically small—small as in... I let him be the important one because that’s what he needed. It was the only way he could function. I let him condescend to me and pretend he was the only capable one, when all along I was perfectly competent.
I diminished myself.For a man.
But I’d been raised that way. Making myself small for my mother, who fretted endlessly about my condition and how it affected her life, without ever seeming to connect with me personally.
Going off in search of a miracle—even when part of me never truly believed I’d find one—was about reclaiming control of my life. I was finally saying no.
No, I wouldn’t let them control me anymore.
No, I wouldn’t let my mother suffocate me.
No, I wouldn’t marry Drew and diminish myself for life so he could feel important. Sometimes I wonder if he cared more about how being with me looked to colleagues than he ever cared about me as a person.
Maybe that’s unfair. It’s just a suspicion. But there were countless ways he made me feel small. In his glances. How he’d park me in corners at parties except when he needed to display me.
In the selfish way he touched me, caring only about his own satisfaction.
Even if Beast takes back everything he gave me for breaking my promise and fleeing—even if my time on earth remains limited—I’ll never forget the freedom I’ve felt this past week.
And I’ll never accept less again.
I’ll make myself small for no one.Ever.
That’s my final thought before the rush of powerful wings and a lion’s roar overhead announces that I’ve been found.
Startled, I aim my flashlight at the dark sky.
Just in time to see Beast’s magnificent, furious face as he descends. Glorious black wings spread wide. His chest blazes with inner light.
His sharp teeth are bared in a snarl.
But instead of cowering, I feel something unexpected surge through me.
Relief.
Because seeing him—even angry and dangerous—feels like coming home.
And for the first time since this all began, I’m not running.
I’m ready to face whatever comes next.
THIRTY
ABADDON
“Where were you?”I growl, the words tearing from me with the force of a thing that has not been properly fed.
She is back in my castle. My brothers are locked away. My feathers are only slightly singed, and the ache from Thing’s bite is already receding. It could be far worse. Yet the heat under my skin has not cooled. It flickers hotter at her silence.
I slam my hand against the stone above her head the moment we pass into my hall, a thunderous sound that makes the torches shiver. The echo answers me, rolling across the vast space that spans the castle’s full width, past the cold fireplace large enough to roast an ox, all the way up to the heavy timber beams blackened with age. The sound seems to go on forever in this empty fortress, a reminder that there is no one for miles who might hear her if she screams.
“Tell me where you were, and who gave you those clothes.” My clawed fingers scrape a clean line through unfamiliar fabric as I speak. The smell on them is all wrong—human, recent,other.
She meets me with an almost insolent glare. My teeth bare, but her defiance steadies something in me. Anger is one thing; challenge is another.
