Of Beast and Beauty - Jay Stacey 16 стр.


that. I never dreamed how quickly a kiss could get out of hand. It’s

terrifying. Dangerous. Who knows how far things would have gone if I

hadn’t accidentally bumped into a pelican beak and come to my senses?

My chest flutters, but thankfully my throat strangles my nervous

giggle before it can escape.

and wish that Gem were the blind one. I would very much like for him

and awkward that I consider running off again simply to escape it. “I didn’t

know.”

Didn’t know? I curl my fingers beneath my chin. “What?”

“I didn’t know that you … that …” He sighs, but keeps going despite

his obvious discomfort. “In my tribe, by the time a girl is seventeen …”

I realize what he’s trying to say, and my face burns even hotter. Was

it that obvious? That everything between a man and a woman is new to

me?

.

My stomach drops. I want to bury my head in my lap and never tilt it

up again, but instead I force myself to lift my chin. “I’m not a girl. I am a

the nerve to chuckle afterward. I consider getting angry—mad seems like a

good alternative to mortified—but when he continues, his voice is kind,

sincere. “And you don’t have to be embarrassed. There’s nothing wrong

with being … new. I just … If I’d known … It can go more slowly. It can be

nice that way, too.” His fingers brush the back of my hand. His touch is

light, undemanding, obviously meant to be comforting, but I pull away all

the same.

I’m not ready to touch him again. Not now, maybe not ever.

By the moons, what was I thinking?

I fist my fingers in my hair and give my head a shake before digging

the heel of my palm into my forehead. No matter how good it felt to be

close to Gem, no matter how much I want to kiss him again. I can’t— We

can’t— This is—

“Impossible,” I mutter beneath my breath.

“Not impossible.” Gem scoots closer, until his hip touches mine.

“Yes,” I insist, but I don’t move away. “Impossible.”

“Maybe. But it felt right. You felt right,” he whispers, sending warmth

rushing in my chest and a hint of that tingling I felt in his arms zipping

through the rest of me. Even if every other being on the planet would think

we’re mad, it’s good to know that Gem felt it, too. That I wasn’t … that I

we want is more impossible than Gem knows.

“I’m sorry,” I say, despair settling in my heart. “I would change the

world if I could.”

“Then change it,” he says, a hint of yesterday’s gruffness in his tone,

though the arm he puts around my shoulders is gentle. “You’re a queen.

You’re young and strong and clever. And kind, when you want to be. That

city is yours to command.”

I shake my head. “No, not yet. And even when—”

“Yes.

“You don’t understand,” I say. “Even if the garden—”

“Forget the garden. You don’t need the garden.” He turns me to him

before pushing my hair from my face with a tenderness that makes me

ache. “You can make the wrong things right without the garden. You can

give the outcasts a place in your city. You can send food to my people. You

don’t have to wait. Children are starving now. My … my child is starving.”

My lips part. I never even considered. He’s only nineteen.

“I don’t know his name. He didn’t … He wasn’t named before I left,”

Gem says, grief clear in his voice. “But I think of him every day. His mother

chose another mate, and I’ll never be a father to him in the way that man

will, but I want to know him. I want him to live to see the first anniversary

of his birth, but many don’t.”

“Please,” I beg, the thought of those hungry children, of

suffer, I truly don’t, but I … I don’t …” I try to drop my head to my chest, but

Gem catches my chin in his hand.

“Then don’t back down.” His finger traces slowly back and forth

across my cheek. “Help my people. Help yourself.”

“I can’t.”

“You can,” he whispers, leaning so close I can feel his breath on my

face. My lips tingle and my heart beats faster, and all I want to do is taste

him again—to lean in and lose myself in the dizzy rush of his mouth on

mine—but I can’t.

I push his hand away gently but firmly. “I

allow it. I’m tainted.”

He makes a disgusted sound, but I push on before he can make

another grand speech about what his chief would do in my place.

“I know it doesn’t make sense to you, but that matters to my

people,” I continue. “They are repulsed by Monstrous traits, and it isn’t just

the outer ugliness of the tainted that they despise. We’re raised to believe

the Monstrous are worse than animals, that they are savages who kill for

pleasure, and that their ugliness is a sign of the corruption of their souls.”

He sighs, his frustration clear in the sound. “But you

soon as I realize how my words sounded, I hurry to explain. “I mean, I know

my people. It isn’t just my size or my rough skin or my wild hair. I’ve never

done as I was told. I lie and take chances I shouldn’t and think only of

myself and—”

“And you think …” His breath rushes out. “You think that means your

soul is

?” he asks, disgust and shock warring in his tone. “Like

mine?”

I shake my head, sending my hair flying into my face. “No! No, of

course not. I don’t think your soul is corrupt. You’re not listening.”

you sound.”

“I am not

the world. The world is complicated,” I say, feeling more confused with

every passing second. I’m not ready for this. I don’t know what to say. “I

just … I know some of what I’ve been taught is wrong, but you can’t deny

that we are different. You said so yourself.”

“Not as different as either side would like to think,” he says, before

adding in a harsh voice, “Women are women, I can promise you that much.

The same tricks work the same way. You even make the same sounds when

you—”

“Stop,” I choke out, struggling to swallow past the sick feeling rising

inside me. For the first time since we touched, I feel ashamed. How could

he? How could he be so understanding one minute and cheapen every

unguarded thing that happened between us the next? “You’re cruel,” I say,

hating the catch in my voice.

“What did you expect from a

?”

“Fine,” I snap. “Never mind. I should never have—”

“What if you weren’t

“I hate a lot of things.”

“I know you think …” I pause, not wanting to inspire any further spite,

but feeling I owe him honesty in a way I didn’t before. Spiteful or not, he

saved my life. And kissed me and held me and admitted it felt right, and

that has changed things between us. I can’t pretend it hasn’t. “I know you

find your people beautiful,” I say, “and I envy you that, I really do. But my

people … they don’t see beauty in mutation. It scares them. They were

horrified when they saw me for the first time at my coronation.”

Gem snorts as if I’ve said the most ridiculous thing in the world, and

anger flares inside me again. He wasn’t there. I was, and I heard the people

pull in a collective breath; I felt their surprise when they looked upon their

tainted queen for the first time.

“Believe what you want,” I snap, “but I know—”

“You know nothing. You’re not

my fingers curl self-consciously, drawing up inside the long sleeves of my

sweater. “Whatever’s wrong with you, it’s not caused by resembling my

people. As far as I’ve seen, you look almost exactly like the other

Smooth—”

“I do not look like them,” I snap. “And no matter what you think, I

can’t start issuing bizarre orders. I have to win my people’s trust. I believe

the garden will—”

“Stop,” he says. “I can’t listen to it again. I can’t.”

“I won’t talk at all, then!” I turn back to the fire and lean away from

him, wishing with every bone in my body it were safe to go for a walk. The

last thing I want to do is stay within spitting distance of this stubborn,

infuriating creature.

“There’s one thing I want to know first.” The gravel crunches, and I

sense that Gem’s moving closer, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of

scooting away. “If I’m hideous, inside and out—”

“I never said—” His arms close around me, and my words end in a

sharp intake of breath as he hauls me onto his lap. “Put me down!” I push

at his chest, but he ignores me and pulls me close, whispering his next

words against my skin.

“If I’m so ugly in every way,” he continues, the feel of his mouth

moving against my cheek making my blood rush in spite of myself, “then

why do you want me, Isra?”

“I—I need your help. And your father promised you would—”

“Don’t be stupid. You know what I mean.” His hands skim over my

body, one teasing the skin at the back of my neck, the other tracing the

column of my spine from top to bottom before smoothing around to my hip

and squeezing tight, fingers digging in until my belly flutters.

I shiver, and I know he knows the reason why. My lips part and my

breath rushes out, but I don’t scramble away. I close my eyes and count

slowly to ten and try to remember how hurt I was when he compared me

to all the other knots he has untangled.

But it’s so hard. Because he’s right. I

and he whispers my name in his thick, needy voice instead of his tight,

angry one.

Words only bring pain; we should use hands instead. I lift my hand to

his face, smoothing my thumb across the hint of whiskers on his cheek.

“Answer me,” he whispers, fingers slipping into my hair.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s not an answer.” His jaw muscle leaps beneath my fingers.

painful lie. I decide on the truth. At least there’s nobility in that. “I’ve never

felt like this,” I confess. “I’ve never kissed anyone the way I kissed you. No

one has ever … touched me like that.”

“Why not?” he asks, his voice only the tiniest bit kinder. “I can’t

believe there aren’t Smooth Skin boys who would tolerate your

Smooth Skin way, isn’t it?”

“It is,” I say, blushing in spite of myself at his casual mention of my

bed. “And there has been some … interest. Bo kissed me once, more than

once, I guess.” I twine my arms around Gem’s neck, unable to resist the

temptation of his skin. “But he didn’t make me feel anything like this.” I try

to move my lips to Gem’s, but he turns away, and my mouth bounces off

his jaw.

“Why is that? Why do

“Because you’re ugly on the outside and wicked on the inside? That’s why

you’re drawn to a monster?”

I don’t say a word. I don’t have to.

He makes a disgusted sound. “I feel sorry for you, Isra. I really do.”

I draw my arms back to my chest and slide from his lap, feeling dirty

and small and more wrong than ever before.

“You make yourself miserable,” Gem says, “and refuse to let anyone

keep you from it. I’m a fool, but you are … I don’t have a Smooth Skin word

for what

fire and the wind howl beyond our shelter for what seems like hours, I

decide to consider his unwillingness to answer a small victory. Ignoring the

tears still pressing against the backs of my eyes and the filthy feeling I know

no bath could wash away, I lie down and close my eyes. My body needs the

rest, even if sleep seems impossible.

time Gem lies down behind me and tucks one heavy arm around my waist,

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