He did not come the next night.
Or the night after.
I waited in my room at midnight, wearing nothing but the collar as he had ordered. The door stayed closed. The hallway silent.
On the third night, I went looking for him.
Lucien caught me on the stairs.
"The master is indisposed."
"Where is he?"
"Recovering. The blood moon takes a toll." His silver eyes were unreadable. "He will send for you when he is ready."
"I want to see him now."
"That is not wise."
"I do not care."
Lucien studied me for a long moment. Then he sighed.
"Very well. But do not say I did not warn you." He gestured down the hall. "Third door on the left. Knock first. If he does not answer, leave immediately."
I went before I could change my mind.
The door was black wood carved with roses. I knocked twice.
No answer.
I should have left.
I opened the door instead.
The room beyond was not what I expected. No torture chamber. No dungeon. Just a bedroom. Massive. Dark. A bed large enough for three people sat against the far wall. Heavy curtains blocked most of the light.
And mirrors. Everywhere. Covering every wall from floor to ceiling.
I saw myself reflected a thousand times. Small. Fragile.
Then I saw him.
He stood in the center of the room with his back to me. Completely still. Staring at his own reflection.
"I told Lucien no visitors."
His voice was flat. Empty.
"I wanted to see you."
"You've seen me now. Leave."
"No."
He turned.
I had seen him in darkness. In firelight. In the red glow of the blood moon.
I had never seen him in full light before.
The mirrors showed everything.
He was massive. Eight feet tall at least. Muscles layered thick under midnight black fur. His horns curved back from his skull, sharp and polished. His muzzle was longer than I remembered, filled with teeth made for tearing. Claws on his hands and feet, each one the length of my finger.
His tail moved behind him, barbed tip catching light.
But it was his eyes that stopped me. Still gold, but wrong now. Too bright. Too wild. The eyes of something that had forgotten how to be human.
I should have been terrified.
I was.
But I was also something else.
"Come here," he said.
I walked to him. Each step reflected in a dozen mirrors. I watched myself approach a monster.
When I stood in front of him, he turned me to face the largest mirror.
"Look," he commanded.
I looked.
We stood together. Beauty and beast. The contrast was obscene. His clawed hand rested on my shoulder, dark fur against pale skin. He could snap me in half without effort.
"This is what you kissed," he said against my ear. "This is what you let touch you. This is what you are learning to want."
His other hand came around my waist. Pulled me back against him.
"Do you see it now? What I really am?"
I saw it.
In the mirror, I watched his muzzle lower to my throat. Watched his tongue, long and rough, trace the line of my collar. Watched my head tilt back on its own, giving him access.
"You should be running," he murmured.
"I know."
"You should be screaming."
"I know."
His hand slid lower. Down my stomach. Between my legs.
I watched in the mirror as one clawed finger parted me. Slid through wetness. Circled once.
My knees buckled. He held me up easily.
"You are soaked." His voice was darker now. "You see what I am and you still want it."
I could not deny it. The collar would not let me.
"Yes."
His finger pushed inside. Slow. Careful of claws.
I watched myself take it. Watched my mouth fall open. Watched my hips push forward for more.
"Look at how small you are." He added a second finger. "Look at how easily I could break you."
I looked.
In the mirror, I saw his hand between my legs. Saw how much bigger he was. Saw how completely he surrounded me.
I saw a monster taking what it wanted.
And I saw myself letting it.
"Do you know what the curse did to me?" he asked, fingers moving now. Slow pumps in and out. "It did not just change my body. It changed my mind. My needs."
"What needs?"
"Dark ones." His thumb found where I ached most and pressed. "I want to hurt you, Belle. Not badly. Just enough to hear you cry my name. I want to mark every inch of skin so no one forgets who you belong to. I want to fuck you so hard you cannot walk for days."
I should have been horrified.
I clenched around his fingers.
He groaned. "You like that."
"No."
The collar tightened. I gasped.
His fingers stilled. "Tell the truth."
"Yes," I choked out. "Yes, I like it."
The collar loosened.
His fingers started moving again. Faster now. Harder.
"Good girl. Always tell me the truth. Even when it scares you."
I was close already. My body knew his touch now. Craved it.
In the mirror, I watched myself come apart. Watched my face twist with pleasure. Watched the beast hold me through it, claws careful, tail wrapped around my thigh to keep me steady.
When I finished, shaking and boneless, he turned me around.
We were face to face now. His muzzle inches from my lips.
"Are you afraid of me?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Do you want to leave?"
I hesitated. The collar warmed in warning.
"No."
Truth.
Something shifted in his eyes. Still wild, but softer now.
"Why not?"
"I do not know."
The collar stayed loose. I genuinely did not know.
"Figure it out." He stepped back. "Because when you do, when you can say it without the collar forcing you, I will give you everything you are too afraid to ask for."
"What if I never figure it out?"
"Then you serve your year and leave." His jaw clenched. "And I die a beast."
He turned away from me. Back to staring at his reflection.
"Go, Belle."
"Léandre."
"Go."
I left.
But I looked back once from the doorway.
He stood alone in that room of mirrors, surrounded by a thousand reflections of the monster he had become.
And every single one of them was watching the door where I had been.
***
That night at midnight, he came to my room.
I was already naked, waiting.
He did not speak. Just looked at me like he was memorizing every detail.
Then he crossed the room and lifted me. Carried me to the bed.
I thought he would take me finally. After everything, after the blood moon and the mirrors and the confessions.
Instead he laid me down gentle and covered me with a blanket.
"Sleep, ma belle."
"I am not tired."
"Liar."
The collar tightened just a little.
I was exhausted. I had not slept well in days.
"Stay," I said before I could stop myself.
He went still. "What?"
"Stay with me. Just for tonight."
"Belle."
"Please."
He stared at me for a long moment. Then he moved to the chair by the fireplace and sat down.
"I will be here when you wake."
It was not what I meant. I wanted him in the bed, wanted his warmth, wanted to fall asleep against fur and muscle.
But I was too tired to argue.
My eyes drifted closed.
Just before sleep took me, I felt something. A blanket being tucked more carefully around me. A clawed hand smoothing my hair back from my face.
His voice, so quiet I almost missed it.
"Je suis désolé, ma belle. Pour tout."
I did not know the words.
But I felt them.
***
I woke to gray morning light and an empty room.
He was gone. The chair by the fire sat vacant.
But on my bedside table, I found something new.
A rose. Black as midnight. Still alive, petals soft and perfect.
And a note in elegant script.
"Meet me in the East Gallery at noon. Wear the red dress in your wardrobe. And the collar. Always the collar."
I touched the rose. It was warm.
Magic.
Just like everything else in this cursed place.
Just like me.
Just like him.