Chapter 12

He almost didn't want to disturb her again. Ever, for that matter. After the unsettling episode, Sebastian had remained on the floor of the dining room, alone, in a sense of numb bewilderment. The candles had begun to flicker low, casting long shadows across the room, before he finally made to stand. And now, the last thing he wished to do was face the woman who had just fled from him as though her very life hung in the balance. And not because she had wanted to necessarily, but because he had commanded it.

Yet, he found he could not simply let the… matter rest either. The evening had been unfolding so well until that moment, a new leaf turning in the pages of their relationship, such that if he had been able to control himself, they might still be sitting together talking, dining, laughing. Why, if things continued in that way… who knew where the night might have led?

Earlier that evening, Virtue had enraptured him such that he was through lying to himself that this marriage meant nothing to him and that he did not care what she thought. He needed her forgiveness—he needed to assure himself that he had not irrevocably damaged what could have been.

It was for that reason Sebastian found himself lingering at the threshold of her chamber less than an hour after she had fled.

"Virtue..." He stood awkwardly by the open door, reluctant to intrude any further lest she regress to panicking in his presence, as she had been the entire day before their eventual supper. "I am sorry to disturb you, but I was hoping we might... that you might allow me to explain myself."

She sat at her writing table, her head bent over a book. A quick glance at him in her doorway had her brows furrowing before she looked back down. "Explain? Whatever do you mean?"

"What happened back there..." He trailed off.

"Oh." She closed her book shut with a soft thump and swiveled in her seat to face him fully. "You refer to your reaction to the simple accident of a glass breaking? A response that some might consider... a touch exaggerated?" Her eyebrow arched pointedly.

He winced, feeling the sting of her words. She had every right to be upset with him. What had happened was more than a mere overreaction. But he'd had no choice! He wished desperately that he had command over such outbursts. He never intended to frighten her. Yet there was simply nothing he could do about it.

A monster, indeed.

"Yes, that," he confirmed, his tone measured. "May I..." He gestured hesitantly into the room.

"It is your home," she said simply.

She was being deliberately antagonistic. He could see that now. It was a test of his temperament, perhaps deservedly so. He supposed he couldn't blame her, seeing as he had behaved like a beast when she was only ever polite to him. And withheld from her so much that she had never fully learned just precisely what she had signed up for with this marriage.

Breathing deeply, Sebastian nodded once, then entered her chambers, but he didn't immediately go to her. He came to a stop at the center of the room, worried to get too close. What had happened earlier was over now, and he did not expect it to return. But having once seen that all-encompassing fear in his wife's eyes, perhaps it was better this way.

"What happened just now, at supper, you need to know that wasn't your fault. The way I acted... it had nothing to do with you."

"And I suppose I am to just believe that after everything else that has happened over the past days."

"It is true. And that thing… it is not who I am," he continued, saying the words as if trying to convince himself more than anything. "Yet sometimes, the worst comes out in me, and I cannot control it. But I need you to know—to understand. It was not your fault."

She looked at him. Saying nothing at first. Holding him in her gaze as if expecting a further explanation—one that he could not give, no matter how much he desired to. Under her probing stare, Sebastian felt himself grow hot, refusing to meet her eyes for fear that she might see right through him. That she might see he was here seeking her forgiveness, completely unraveled by her, with no semblance of control left in their relationship. And if she realized that… he would be utterly at her mercy.

"And what did happen precisely?" she finally dared to ask.

"That is..." Sebastian hesitated. "It is not important. But I promise, it will not happen again."

"I don't accept that," she declared firmly.

"Pardon?"

She gracefully rose from her chair, and when she did, he took a step back. "This marriage, it shall never flourish if we cannot be honest with one another. And where you might be happy to feign that all is well, I am afraid that I'm not so easily placated." She took another step toward him. "You had no desire to marry me, did you?"

"That is not—" He started to say but could not bring himself to finish the blatant lie.

Standing before him, Virtue was clad in the same emerald gown she had worn to dinner, her presence so striking that it momentarily stole the breath from him. Towering over her, aware of his own strength, he knew it would be effortless to close the distance between them, to claim her as his own, as was his right as her husband. Yet, he did not want to do that simply because he could. He wanted her to want it.

"And care to know something? I never wished to marry you either." She shrugged plaintively. "The things I heard about you were horrible. Ghastly, even. Why, Lucy, my maid, remains convinced that there is a torture chamber within these walls, where you ensnare villagers to feast upon as a wolf would a trapped hen."

"That is not true," he countered, hackles raising for she was probing at a sore spot that she knew better than to probe at. Almost as though she sought to incite his anger.

"Of course it is not," she exhaled, a note of exhaustion in her sigh. "But therein lies the point. I believed those fables because I knew no better. Too much indulgence in fairy tales led me to suspect I had stumbled upon one myself. Yet, having met you, I began to see how these tales might have been grossly embellished, or even entirely fabricated..."

"Of course they are," he snarled angrily, only to catch himself. "I would never—I could never..."

"Feast upon local villagers?" she giggled, disarming him effortlessly once more. "I should certainly hope not." She took another step toward him, and this time, he held his ground. "And I trust the same can be said for me. I can only imagine the dreadful tales you have heard about my past, most of which are utterly fictitious." She arched a brow, a glint of challenge in her eyes.

"I know they are," he replied, meaning it. "And last night, what I said about you, what I implied, I did not mean—"

"Oh, I am sure you did," she chuckled softly. "Yet that underscores my point precisely. We do not truly know one another, do we? We may be married. We may share a home. But in truth, you remain as much a stranger to me as I to you. Yet…" Another step closer, so they were standing less than two feet apart. "It doesn't have to remain that way. But it can never change if every encounter we have leads to more and more secrets, and fewer and fewer answers. As I was saying, I had presumed the stories about you to be greatly exaggerated, yet you always seem to hint there is a kernel of truth you will never share with me."

"It… it is not that simple," Sebastian replied, his voice low.

"Why can't anything ever be with you?"

"The rumors you hear of me, most of them are not true, but some..." He inhaled sharply, steeling himself before his eyes raised to meet hers. "Some are more accurate than you might imagine."

"What... what do you mean?"

"I'm..." Sebastian's gaze faltered, turning away as a wave of self-loathing washed over him. "I am dangerous."

"I'm sure that's not true." She tried for a soft chuckle, but it died the moment it left her lips.

"It is," he affirmed. They stood so close, his massive frame like a mountain before her. Even when he wasn't trying to impose himself on her, he still had that effect. "I do not mean to be so withdrawn, but it is for your own good."

"Then why offer to marry me," she pressed. "I don't believe that."

"Believe it." He looked at her again, jaw clenched now as he tried to keep his emotions in check. "You were right before. I had no desire to marry you. But understand, it had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me. It was unjust of me to force this engagement upon you, and had I known the kind of person you were. How..." The way she looked at him, the pity in her eyes, made his heart beat such that it hurt him. It would be so easy now to dismiss her and leave. He had made his apology and that was why he was here. But they stood close, their stare held, and somehow he found a sense of courage that had eluded him until now. "How innocent you were, I would have never..."

A gentle smile played across her lips. "Don't apologize. As I have said, I don't hold stock in the rumors, nor do I fully accept your own harsh judgment of yourself. And if you would only allow me the opportunity…"

"You would not say such things if you knew the true extent of my nature."

"Then show me!" Virtue implored. "I am right here. I have nowhere to go. Show me the real you and let me judge for myself."

She awaited his response, but he gave her nothing.

He felt exposed in a way he never had before. She was his wife, yet he felt like a boy speaking to a woman for the first time. Unversed in the ways of courtship. Afraid of rejection. Terrified what might become of him if it happened. And when he glanced at her, he noticed her eyes attempting to see beyond his mask.

He nearly winced when he saw it.

To him, she was the epitome of beauty and grace, and he, a disfigured monster. Both physically and mentally, she was too pure for the beast hidden beneath. He almost scoffed at himself, all the thoughts he had been having, his daring to wonder if she might be feeling the same way as him. Now, he could see it, clear as day. There was just no way. It seemed impossible; the only way he could ever possess her would be through force, for she could never truly desire the savage before her.

Unable to meet her eyes, he looked down, only to see her hand drifting towards him. For an instant, he held his breath, thinking she might reach for his hand. But then, most unexpectedly, her fingers extended not toward his hand, but toward the straps of his white mask—

In a reflex swift and fierce, Sebastian's hand shot out, grasping her wrist firmly before he could stop himself.

"What do you think you're doing?" he snarled, still holding her by the wrist, so firmly he might have lifted her from the ground if he so wished it.

"I'm sorry." She tried to pull her arm free, but he refused to yield. "I did not mean—"

"I told you no," he growled back, his voice like thunder rolling from the horizon.

"I just wanted to see." She tried to assuage his anger. "I thought if—"

"I know what you thought," he hissed, his tone darkening as he loomed over her, his presence enveloping her like the nightfall that shrouds a valley at dusk. All-encompassing and completely dominating. "And I told you, no."

Sebastian's eyes bore into hers with fiery intensity, a clear attempt to intimidate her into submission. He believed that if she were to see his true self beneath the mask, it would irrevocably shatter any semblance of a relationship they might build. It was better, he reasoned, to fend her off with fear rather than face the potential ruin of reality.

Only this time, Virtue did not retreat.

She met his gaze steadfastly, her eyes unflinching, her spirit undeterred. "Let go of me," she demanded, her voice strained but firm, fighting to keep her composure and her chin steady.

"What?" he growled, holding her tighter.

He became suddenly aware of where they were. Alone. In Virtue's bedchamber. The night after their wedding night, still unfulfilled and wanting. How close they stood, how intense they stared, the raw tension building between them transforming to a passionate intensity that seemed to transcend Sebastian's goal of scaring her back. If anything, his savagery only seemed to thrill her now.

"Let go of me," she said again, stepping in closer, pressing her body into his.

He shook from raw emotion now. His skin flushed with a heady mix of rage and desire, his breaths short and heavy. As he looked down at her, his lips parted slightly, his teeth baring in a silent, primal challenge.

"And if I don't?" His voice was a husky growl, charged with a dangerous allure as he leaned closer, surrendering to the animalistic urges that cried within as he sensed her calling for them.

Eyes meeting. Lips licking in anticipation. Sparks flew between the two, setting the room alight. He might have been a monster, but in this moment, Virtue played the tamer to his wildness, and she had him in her thrall. He realized then that any fear she felt was tinged with excitement, a thrill she was eager to explore, a craving for the edge of danger that he embodied in her eyes...

Without conscious thought, driven by a force he could no longer control, Sebastian surged forward, his lips finding hers in a fierce, crushing kiss that had her backpedaling a few steps. He half-expected her to recoil, but instead, her hand flew up, clutching his collar, drawing him closer still. Their lips crashed together with a passion only hindered by the mask, yet he ignored the obstruction, overwhelmed by the taste of her, the urge to deepen the kiss consuming him...

But then, in the midst of their intense embrace, Virtue's hand drifted up to his face again, and again, her slender fingers sought the edge of his mask. It was subtle in the moment, and expected, yet it ignited a surge of panic in Sebastian. The terrifying possibility that she might recoil in horror at his true appearance was more than he could bear.

"No!" he snarled, and in a reflex born of fear, pushed her back without thinking.

The shove was harder than he expected, sending her stumbling and crashing into the side of the bed. She yelped with surprise and Sebastian, horrified by what he had done, made a move to go to her, only to catch the look in her eyes and freeze.

Fear. Real fear this time. Eyes wide, mouth agape, he could sense the terror in her as she finally came to understand who it was she had married. What it was she had married.

Sebastian stood frozen, one hand out to help her, but unable to do just that. For a moment, the two simply stared at one another, neither knowing how to act or what to say. But that look in her eyes… it was enough to jolt Sebastian back to the grim reality they faced.

Overwhelmed, he fell back, stumbling toward the door. Only upon reaching it did he compel himself to face her once more, but the sight of Virtue, still pressed against the bed, eyes still wide with apprehension as if worried he might suddenly attack her, twisted his gut with self-loathing.

"So—sorry," he whispered, his voice low and laden with remorse. "For everything." And then he was gone.

He had been so close. For a brief moment, Sebastian had dared to imagine that Virtue was able to handle the side of him that he'd kept hidden from the world for so long. The side that the mask covered. The side that he had little control over, no matter how hard he tried.

But the reality was it could never be the case.