Beast: A Hate Story, The Beginning

It’d been doing that lately.

I tried to hold on to the anger, because the despair hurt so much more.

Hanging up behind me was a gorgeous green dress. It was simple when compared to the regal, haute couture masterpieces I normally had to wear. Don’t get me wrong, it was utterly divine. The neck was a deep, deep V that fell just a hair above my belly button. The waist was cinched and then flowed to the floor. It was a dark emerald color but the delicate beading and metallic thread lace caught the light and at certain angles it shone like diamonds. It was almost demure, save for the long slit that started at my cinched waist, exposing my entire left leg.

Below the sill, ant people walked along the sidewalk, snow falling on their heads. I wondered where they were going. To parties? To families that actually wanted them? It was the happiest time of the year—were they happy? Did they have everything figured out? Before Beast, I never imagined there could be a girl like me in the US, much less on the East Coast. I wondered if one of those ant people was a slave.

A prisoner with a smile.

Sighing, I turned from the window to put on my dress. I noticed there was no lingerie hung up. That wasn’t a mistake, and it didn’t mean I could pick my own; it meant he wanted me to go without. Unless otherwise laid out, I always had to go without. As I slid the dress on, I noticed the bust was sheer with sequined strings of green thread barely covering my nipples.

I paled.

Yeah. Fucking. Right.

I took the dress off and hunted for lingerie. There was a backless, champagne-colored Agent Provocateur teddy with a deep enough V. Perfect.

Just as I finished dressing, the door swung open.

Beast looked me up and down, his gaze practically turning the dress to ashes at my feet.

“What?” I snapped. “I put on the fucking dress.” I had half a second to register his raised brow before he pushed me against the wall, shoving his hand up the slit in my dress. I shoved my hands behind my back, flat against the wall, struggling to find purchase as he roamed underneath the dress.

“What else did you put on?” he pressed.

“Nothing,” I gasped. Asshole, I added with my eyes, and he knew it. His own narrowed and his fingers slid underneath the lace garment. His finger probed my slit and my fingers spread against the wall, as if I could find a secret doorknob and fall through.

“Hmm…” he murmured. “I don’t think you’re telling the truth.”

“Fuck. You,” I spat, as his fingers arched higher inside of me. I waited for him to punish me for swearing, but he only raised a brow.

“You might be nicer to me Frankie, if you’d like to get your Christmas present. It would be a shame to have to send him back.”

“Him? What do you mean him?” I demanded, pushing the breathlessness in my voice into that tiny box inside my head that I planned to burn with acid later. Abruptly he dropped me, my skin feeling too cold for my liking, my thighs icy. He called for Nikolai and I folded my arms.

A moment later Nikolai appeared, a box with holes in his hand, red bow on top. He handed it to me and I took it warily, caution tape around my heart.

“What is this?” I asked, examining the box.

With folded arms, Beast said, “Open it.”

I heard meowing and my gut dropped.

“Open it,” he repeated.

I quickly tore through the box and opened it. It was a kitten…a small, black kitten, so cute and innocent. I stared into the box, scared to touch it. Memories of Cleary came rushing back. I was all at once hurt but so, so excited. It struggled to crawl out of the box, tripping and falling over itself. I should have just picked it up, it was such a kind and gentle gesture, but seeing a cat so similar to Cleary had me reeling. I felt the pain all over again.

“I don’t understand…” I glanced up at the Beast. Why had he given me a kitten, and one so like Cleary? He must not have liked my response, because his eyes narrowed and he quickly snatched the animal from me.

“What are you doing?” I asked, reaching for the bundle of black fur.

“You don’t want it.” Beast handed the kitten to Nikolai without even looking at it.

“I don’t understand,” I pleaded. It had nothing to do with wanting, I just needed a minute to readjust. It didn’t mean I didn’t want the kitten. It was a fucking kitten! I just needed a minute to understand what was happening, but Beast wasn’t going to give me that.

My gaze traveled from the kitten in Nikolai’s arms to Beast, my confusion turning to fury.

It was like losing Cleary all over again.