PROLOGUE

19th Century, England

"Edward?" Edward jumped at the sound of her soft voice, startling him. He slid away from he grand piano, turning to the large mirror on the wall. Quickly, he combed his messy hair back with hi hand, cringing as he reached It's forehead.

"Beatrice?" He quickly glanced at the mirror, biting his lip as he turned sideways. When It wouldn't be visible in the dimness of the library room, he nodded to himself before going to the library's lobby.

"Lady Beatrice." He smiled warmly at her as he strode towards her and held her soft hands in his, taking the hand with the Mordrake family ring—now Beatrice's engagement ring—and kissing the back of her hand. "Did the music lead you to me, my darling?"

"You weren't in the ballroom, and Spencer said you weren't in your father's study with the other gentlemen so I figured…" She trailed, smiling the sweet, less-than-demure smile she always wore when with him.

Even in the dim library, Beatrice's smile could enchant him. She is an Ashbury through and through, his parents would say, and growing up, Edward began to understand what that meant. She had the dark brown hair and blue-green eyes her brother Spencer, her father Charles, and all the Ashbury descendants had—everything but her smile; that was Beatrice's alone.

Edward leaned forward, brushing his lips lightly against hers. The Ashburys were protective of their daughter, and his parents were riding on this chance—this once chance—to unite with the Ashburys, and he would be in trouble if they were caught kissing before the wedding, even if they had practiced kissing together as young children. He wondered if he would have been the Ashburys' choice if they knew about It.

Beatrice responded by leaning forward, and they were locked in a passionate kiss. Edward wrapped her in a gentle embrace, nudging her closer to him. Her hands pressed against his shoulders, and for a moment Edward wasn't sure if she was pushing him away or pulling him closer.

It was no doubt that Edward loved Beatrice Elizabeth Ashbury—or as she would be named in a fortnight, Beatrice Ashbury-Mordrake. It was like a dream—he was marrying the girl he loved, the girl who had grown up alongside him. The Mordrakes and the Ashburys were great noble families, and it was a blessing that the eldest of the Mordrake heirs was agreed to marry the eldest daughter of the Ashburys that was still unmarried—and it just happened to be the two. They didn't care it was arranged. They loved each other, and they were more than happy to unite both their families.

Now all he had to do was find out the best way to tell Beatrice the truth.

Edward broke off their lock. "Come with me, my love."

He pulled her and walked by her side, careful not to walk ahead lest she see It. They passed the grand piano, and Beatrice looked at him quizzically when they passed.

"Where are we going?"

"It wouldn't be a surprise now, would it?" He grinned. He led her down a maze of shelves and tables until they reached the entrance to the balcony.

"Look" He said as he opened the doors. "Out by the Abbey over there."

She peered to see what he was pointing at. "That construction over there?"

"Yes, my darling."

"What is it?" She asked, trying to seem disinterested.

He grabbed her by the waist from behind, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Our manor."

Beatrice paused. "Our what?"

"You heard me, my dear." He smiled. "It's my surprise wedding present to you."

She turned around and gasped. "You've been giving me so many wedding presents, Edward."

"Because no present can ever amount how much I love you, my dearest." He smiled at Beatrice's speechlessness. "I believe the words you are looking for are 'thank you, my love'?

Beatrice opened her mouth to retort, but Edward broke her of. "…which is why, I also have this…"

Edward pulled the chain from his coat pocket, pulling out the most beautiful necklace with a blue diamond pendant.

"It was my grandmother's, and now…"

He made a twirling signal with his hand and Beatrice obediently turned back to face the building site of their upcoming new manor. I love him, Beatrice thought, thinking of the unfortunate, loveless marriages her older sisters are stuck in. She was different—she may be marrying for her family like they did, but she was also marrying for love. I know we'll be so happy together.

Edward carefully put the necklace around his betrothed's neck, tapping her on the shoulder when he was done. "Father said I should show it to you in front of the guests, but they're not the ones I'm marrying.

"Beatrice, sweet Beatrice," Edward began. This is it, he thought. "I love you so very much, and I would never try to hurt you."

Tears were welling up in her blue-green eyes. "I-I don't know what to say."

"Then say nothing." Edward smiled. "For I have much to tell you."

Pretty, It whispered. I'd bite her pretty neck red until it poured.

Shut up, shut up, shut up, you vile creature. Edward thought. She is mine, and you will never hurt her.

I have what you have, Edward. It spoke back. Including her.

"SHUT U—" Edward yelled, biting his tongue too late.

Are you going to tell her, or do you plan on looking like a fool, Edward?

"Edward…" Beatrice started, the fear in her eyes.

Edward sighed, knowing what he must do—there was no escaping it. He muttered a small sorry before he turned around, lifting his long hair to reveal the face behind his own.

He cringed, waiting for the cry or scream or the declaration of their betrothal null. But all he heard was a loud gasp…and then nothing. When he turned back to Beatrice, she looked as horrified as he expected, but there was something calm and calculating about her look.

"Bea…" He began, but she raised a hand.

"Edward, ever since you were young, you've had long hair. Are your parents hiding this?" She asked nervously.

He couldn't lie—his silence was the biggest lie. "Yes."

She looked at him critically, but she sighed deeply, as though she were resigned to it. "Okay. Thank you for telling me."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "Beatrice…"

"Edward, I love you." She smiled past the tears. "I love you, and I'd rather marry you knowing you have a…well…than being kept in the dark until the last possible moment."

And then he felt free. He had never loved anyone more than he loved her that moment. "Really?"

"Yes, Edward." She smiled. "I'd love you if you weren't a Mordrake, I'd love you if you weren't a Lord, I'd love you even if we'd elope to the mountains and live like commoners. It's you and I, forever. Alright?"

He loved her—that was a certainty. He smiled, leaning in to kiss her, ignoring the gasps down below the balcony.

Now all he had to do was tell her that It could talk too.

But alas, he'd never get the chance. After It found out about Edward's impending marriage to Beatrice Ashbury, it began filling Edward's head with images of Beatrice's death in the worst ways possible, driving him insane. Edward Mordrake was sent to an asylum by his family, a few days before his impending marriage. Months later, he escaped after he believed to have smothered It to death, hoping to return to Beatrice as normal as possible, only to find out that Beatrice Ashbury-Kingsley, forced to marry Theodore Kingsley, died of sadness.

A few days later, Edward was on a train surrounded with freaks—he was one of them now.

Cheer up, mate, It whispered. She probably died without the cleaver.