The next night I waited.
I sat on the bed in my day dress until the clock struck twelve. The door opened the same way. Silent. No knock. No light from the hall. He stepped just inside and stopped. A wall of shadow with two burning gold eyes.
"Undress." He ordered.
I stood up slowly. My fingers found the buttons at my throat. One by one I undid them. The fabric parted. Cool air touched my skin. I let the dress slide off my shoulders and pool at my feet.
I wore only a thin chemise now. It stuck to my chest because I was sweating even though the room was cold.
His eyes never left me.
I reached for the ribbon between my breasts. My hands shook. I pulled it loose. The chemise opened. I did not let it fall yet. I held the two sides together and looked at him.
"Do I really have to?" I asked, voice small.
"Yes," he said. Low. Rough. Like stones rolling together.
I let go. The chemise dropped.
I stood naked, firelight slid over my breasts and the curve of my hips the way his eyes did. My skin felt too tight. My heart beat so hard I was sure he could hear it.
He took one step closer. Not into the light, just closer. I saw the shape of him better now. Tall. Wide. Fur black as night. Horns curved back from his head. Claws that caught the glow when he moved his hand.
I wanted to cover myself. I did not. I stood still and let him look.
His breathing changed. Deeper. Slower.
Minutes passed. Maybe five. Maybe twenty. I lost track.
"Turn around," he said at last.
I turned. Slowly. I felt his stare on my back, my waist, lower. Heat followed everywhere his eyes touched. My legs started to shake.
When I faced him again he had not moved.
"Good," he said.
That single word made something hot twist low in my belly.
He backed away. One step. Two. Until he was only eyes in the dark again.
"Get into bed."
I climbed under the covers fast, pulling them to my chin. The sheets were cold against my bare skin.
The door closed.
I lay there shaking for a long time, not from fear.
From something else.
***
The third night was the same. And the fourth.
Every night at midnight he came. I undressed. He watched. He never touched me. He never came fully into the light. He only looked until I burned from it.
By the seventh night, I stopped shaking.
I stood straighter, the chemise fell without holding it closed first. I even lifted my hair off my neck so he could see better.
The waiting became part of my day. I would eat breakfast thinking about it. Walk the gardens counting hours. At dinner I could barely taste the food because my mind was already in that room, already feeling his eyes on me.
I hated how much I wanted him to speak. To say more than those short commands.
He never did. Just "turn" or "hands down" or "slower."
But his voice got rougher each time. His breathing louder.
During the day I never saw him. Only Lucien and the some of the visible staff. The castle felt empty without those golden eyes watching from the shadows.
I started to wonder if he watched me other times too. When I bathed. When I brushed my hair. When I sat in the library reading. The feeling of being observed never truly left.
It should have scared me.
It did not.
***
On the tenth night something changed.
I was naked, standing by the fire, when I heard the softest sound. A low rumble in his chest. Not a growl. Something needier. Something that sounded almost like pain.
My breath caught.
I took one step toward the darkness.
He went very still. Even his breathing stopped.
Another step.
"Belle," he warned. My name in his mouth sounded like a prayer and a curse together.
I stopped, but I did not look away. "I just want to see you."
"No."
"Please."
Silence stretched between us. Long and heavy and full of things neither of us would say.
Then the door closed faster than it ever had. The slam echoed through the castle.
I stood there alone, skin hot, aching in places I tried not to name. My hands curled into fists at my sides. My whole body felt like it was humming, waiting for something that would not come.
I did not sleep that night.
***
The next night he did not come at midnight.
I waited until the clock struck one. Two. The fire burned low. I added another log myself, something I had never done before. The flames leapt up, painting the room in orange and gold.
At half past two the door opened.
He stepped farther into the room than ever before. Firelight reached his chest. Black fur with streaks of deep red like dried blood. Muscles thick and hard under the fur. A tail, long and barbed at the tip, moved behind him slowly.
His face was still mostly shadow but I saw the shape of it now. A muzzle. Sharp teeth when he breathed. Eyes that burned so bright they hurt to look at.
He was beautiful in the most terrifying way.
I had already undressed. I stood waiting in only my skin and the firelight.
He stared for a long time. His chest rose and fell. His clawed hands flexed at his sides like he was fighting not to reach for me.
I did not move. Did not speak. I let him look his fill.
"You are not afraid anymore," he said finally.
"No."
"Why?"
I did not know how to answer. Because his voice made me feel safe even when nothing else did? Because something in me recognized something in him? Because every night I stood naked before a monster and felt more seen than I ever had clothed?
"I do not know," I whispered.
His tail lashed once. Sharp and fast.
"Tomorrow," he said. Voice almost broken. Rough as gravel. "Tomorrow I will touch you."
My knees went weak.
The door shut before I could respond.
I slid down to the rug and pressed my thighs together because I could not wait another day. My hand moved on its own. I touched myself thinking of fur and claws and golden eyes watching me burn.
When I finished I was shaking again.
But not from fear.
Never from fear.
***
The next morning Lucien found me in the library. I had not slept. My eyes felt heavy and my skin too sensitive. Everything reminded me of last night.
"You look unwell," he said, setting down a tea tray I had not asked for.
"I am fine."
"The master asked me to give you this." He held out a small black box.
I took it. Inside was a silver bracelet. Delicate chains holding a single charm. A rose with thorns so detailed I could see every point.
"What is this?"
"A gift." Lucien's expression gave nothing away. "He wants you to wear it tonight."
"Why?"
"You will have to ask him yourself."
I held the bracelet up to the light. It was beautiful. Cold. The thorns looked sharp enough to draw blood.
I put it on.
It fit perfectly.