CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: THE WAITING GAME

Adam groaned, pushing himself up in the hard wooden chair. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawning, he turned to face the window. The sky was dark, but the hint of morning light slowly rose above the dark horizon, painting the edge of the world with shades of pink and orange. The early light reached through the glass, its long fingers streaking across the floor and cutting it into strips of pale yellow illumination. Rubbing a large palm down his noble features, he slowly brought his gaze to the center of the room.

Belle lay dormant in the center of the mattress - her already slight form seeming impossibly smaller when surrounded by the plush duvet and goose-feather pillows. Her dark hair spilled over the white pillowcases - resembling pools of liquid chocolate. Her petite, heart-shaped face was framed by the thick, silky locks, and her long eyelashes cast crescent moons on her pale cheeks. The large mattress seemed to swallow her whole as she lay silent and still upon the plush material.

Her fever had finally broken last night - six days after she had been poisoned by the arrow Gaston intended for Adam. He was awash with guilt - feeling fully responsible for the events that unfolded that terrible night. Had he been stronger - more prepared - he could have protected Belle and apprehended Gaston without either of them getting hurt. Her father would be safe and content living in the castle with his beloved daughter and future son-in-law, rather than the worried frail old mess of a man that resided two doors down, barely recovering from his recent captivity.

They had arrived home just in time, for the rot in Maurice's severed finger had begun to spread and would have claimed his life in a few days' time.

Physicians had been in and out of the castle, tending to his fiancée and her papa since they arrived home. It had been an exhausting journey with Adam carrying Belle as he and her father trekked on foot for half a day before reaching the nearest village and purchasing a brougham and a snow-white mare to take them the rest of the way.

Mon Dieu, the prince thought to himself - still unable to believe that all three of them had made it back in one piece. He cursed himself again for having blindly chased after Belle with a half-cocked rescue plan. He was to blame for her current state. He had failed to find her papa on his own, thus leaving her feeling as though she had no other option but to take matters into her own hands.

Exhaling a sigh, he rose to a stand and strode to the side of the large, four-poster bed. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to the soft skin above her brow, lingering there as his eyes slid shut. She took a sharp breath, shuddering and stirring in her sleep before settling back into a quiet slumber. The doctor would be arriving in the next few hours to administer yet another dose of the antidote. The potent poison Gaston possessed would have surely killed her within a few days' time if Maurice had not witnessed the scoundrel as he dipped the heads of his arrows in preparation for him...the beast.

This was all his fault. Adam hated himself now more than ever. He was undeserving of the celestial being that lay in his bed. His heart ached from the intense way he loved her, and he wished more than anything that they had met under completely different circumstances. He, a handsome prince, and she, a beautiful maiden. He would have courted her and treated her like the queen she would become. Instead, he had been cursed for his sins and left for ruin. She had stumbled into his world with her wide, curious eyes and innocent, strong spirit.

He sucked her into his somber existence, tainting her with the shadows of his past. Though she had guided him to the light and lifted the curse that sullied his very being, it felt as though the universe would not relent its punishment until he had thoroughly suffered for his former ruthlessness and masochistic ways. How he wished he had the power to free her of the ailment that threatened to ensnare her.

Clenching his jaw, he stretched his spine, keeping his palm on her cheek as he gazed down at her. His Belle was strong - full of fight. If anyone could come back from this, it was her. He knew it in his soul. She would endure and emerge the victor. And he would fall at her feet in complete surrender to his awe of her. She inspired him in every way, filled his life with purpose. And so he would fight right alongside her.

Adam wasn't about to let himself drown in another wave of self-deprecation. "Je t'aime, ma belle," he whispered, brushing the hollow of her cheek. His forefinger slipped beneath her jaw while his thumb dragged across her soft skin and against her plump bottom lip. Her mouth was flushed, so were her cheeks. He smiled at that, seeing in her complexion that she was, indeed, getting better. He swore he wouldn't leave her side until those beguiling coffee-colored eyes fluttered open and graced him with their beautiful gaze.

Lifting his arms to remove his cotton shirt, he pulled back the sheets and slid onto the mattress beside his love. He enveloped her in his warm embrace, circling his strong arms around her waist and pulling her into his solid frame. She nestled against him perfectly, her rosy lips parting on a sigh when her cheek met the bare skin of his chest. He kissed her hairline and inhaled her sweet scent. They had been through so much together. He promised he would always protect her, and that's exactly what he intended to do.

Gaston was gone from their lives, and the curse was but a distant memory (with the exception of Beast now being a permanent part of him). He had to believe that things would work out for the better. That same hope he clung to was the very thing keeping him sane and alive right now. Losing sight of that could be detrimental to those around him. He would heed the enchantress' warning and keep his shifting moods at bay. He would need to learn to control this part of him that was both old and new. Old because he was very well acquainted with Beast, and new because he had never before wielded the power to command his beastly guise at will.

With no imminent danger in sight, the prince saw little purpose for his furry counterpart, but one could never be too sure. Long before Adam's birth, the French court had been a place filled with scandal, lies, secrets, and death. The memories of his subjects had only recently returned, but he didn't doubt the reappearance of the aforementioned elements. It was only a matter of time before politics and the accompanying drama snaked its way back into the polished palace walls. The crown prince and future king of France being half-beast shouldn't come as a shock to the overbearing, persnickety type that was accustomed to living a life in court.

Yet, he knew the curse he bore would easily take first place when it came to the hearsay of commoners and nobles alike. He was fortunate enough to have complete trust in his staff and their loyalty to him. They were refined in the ways of secrecy and inconspicuousness. Right now, all that paled when compared to recent events. His arms tightened around Belle's slender body and he rested his chin atop her head. He allowed sleep to pull him under, all the while imaging the way their lives would be together once the dust had settled. His woman deserved all the happiness in the world, and he would ensure that she had it.

Muffled voices caused Belle to stir in her sleep, her body prickling with awareness and her consciousness slowly taking hold. A deep, pulsing pain traveled through her shoulder, radiating into her back and spreading to the center of her chest. She scrunched her brow, shifting her left elbow beneath her and using it as a crutch while she pushed herself into a sitting position.

The slippery silk of the bedsheets kissed her skin as she moved, and a plush mountain of pillows wrapped around her, taking the form of her head and shoulders when she sank back into them. Her mouth felt as though it were stuffed with cotton or wool, and her throat burned when she worked at an attempt to swallow. She was so very parched. A cough slipped past her dry lips and she worked her throat to swallow again, searching (in vain) for just a sliver of moisture to ease the ache.

The voices paused for a beat, and a rustling sounded in the distance. Drowsily, she wondered why she couldn't see. Her hands reached up until she felt the tips of her warm fingers press against her face. The pads of her fingertips brushed over her eyelids, rubbing along the lower lids harshly. Smearing the rheum from her eyes, she forced the lids apart and almost immediately shut them when a bright light assaulted her vision. Recoiling back against the pillows, Belle pulled the soft sheets over her head to shield her from the offending sunlight.

Light footsteps tapped against the polished floors, followed by the sound of glass being set on a nearby surface. The bed dipped with the weight of another as they sat on the edge, and warm fingers stroked hers, pulling the sheets down gently to reveal her face.

"Belle," the word came out in a rush - the relief weighing heavily in Adam's smooth voice.

She forced her eyes open, her heart clenching at the sweet sound of his melodic tone. Brown eyes met blue, and she swore she felt her heart stutter and jolt back to life at the sight of her handsome prince gazing upon her with a mixture of love and worry. Her final memories came flooding into her mind, overwhelming her with the images of Beast and Gaston struggling in the wet grass as the harsh storm whipped and lashed out around them.

She had been so close to losing the man she loved, and the very thought had driven her to leap into the fray - putting her own life in grave danger. A memory of her father standing several feet away from her, his arms trembling and fingers curled over the handle of a pistol flashed across her mind, followed by the image of Gaston's lifeless eyes gazing up into the black sky, unseeing.

A feeling of horror mixed with nausea washed over her, quickly chased by overwhelming relief. Unless her memory failed her, Gaston was deceased. The proverbial axe no longer hung over her head, threatening to fall at any moment to destroy all that mattered to her. Taking in her surroundings, she immediately recognized the walls of Adam's bedchamber. She was home. She exhaled a contented sigh, her eyes slipping shut as a sensation of peace settled around her.

Her eyes snapped open and she pushed herself up, wincing when a sharp pain stabbed her left shoulder. "Where's Papa?"

"Easy," Adam gruffed, resting both of his large hands around her shoulders to steady her against the propped pillows. "Maurice is just down the hall in his room. He is resting - recovering."

Another wave of relief crashed over her. Dieu merci. Her Papa was finally safe. "Water," she rasped, unable to form another word without the life-sustaining liquid. Adam lifted a glass from the night table and pressed it to her lips, cupping the back of her head as she greedily gulped it down. "What happened?" She struggled to recall how it all ended - unable to summon any memories of their journey home after Gaston's most fortunate demise.

"The usual," the lightness in Adam's tone made her lips curl up in a smile, "I came to rescue you, but in the end you rescued me. Ours is a tale as old as time."

A blush colored her cheeks and she leaned forward, ignoring the white-hot pain that blazed deep in her shoulder. She glanced down at her injury, noting that it was tightly wrapped in pristine white bandages. A hint of crimson stained the garment, right over her wound. She remembered the sound of the pistol firing, the smoke rising from the barrel and the acrid smell of gunpowder mixing with the musty scent of the rainfall. She recalled the look of fear in her father's eyes as he called out to her.

She furrowed her brows as she thought harder. Gaston had clearly taken the shot to his chest. She remembered the way the life drained from his brown eyes, a layer of clear wax seemingly glazing over his orbs as he fell to the ground in a lifeless heap. The blood slowly seeped from the wound in his chest - a second or two after his soul vacated his body. Was it possible for the gunpowder to travel through the ox of a man, injuring her in the process?

"Did Papa shoot me?" she asked, not missing the way the words sounded terribly wrong when arranged in that order. Of course, if he had shot her, it had been an accident. She knew her papa was only trying to protect her from the monster that had kidnapped and assaulted them both.

Adam shook his head in the negative, a pained expression marring his perfect features. "You were struck by a poisoned arrow," he grated, his voice raw and full of emotion, "he meant to kill me with it, but you stepped in its path. Belle, I'm so sorry."

"Sorry?" she asked, shifting until she was sitting straighter. She reached for Adam's hands, slipping her fingers between his larger ones. "You've nothing to be sorry for."

He turned her hands over in his, massaging her knuckles gently. Sliding his body closer to hers, he reached into his breast pocket and slipped her engagement ring onto her wedding finger. "I thought you might want this back..."

She fingered the elegant band, running the pad of her index finger over the sharp edges of the sparkling jewel. She felt sorry for having removed it before, knowing it must have hurt Adam to find it - giving him the wrong idea. She could only pray that he would understand her message, and to her pleasure, he had. She reached for him, running her fingers over his smooth palm and resting them on his wrist. His pulse bounded beneath her touch, giving away his desire. Her eyes flicked to his and she was welcomed by his dark, lustful gaze. It felt as though an eternity had passed since they last touched intimately.

"How much time has passed?" she asked, pressing her fingers into his smooth skin, enjoying the small point of contact.

"Eight days," was his reply.

She released a breath, letting that reality sink in. She lost over a week of her life at the hands of Gaston's vile poison. But, somehow, she had endured. Luck smiled down on her, and she and Adam were finally given a fair chance at a life together. She wrapped her slender fingers around his wrist and pulled him toward her. He leaned into her, resting the side of his face against her bosom. She dragged her fingers through his silky, blonde hair.

"I love you, Adam Baptiste. More than anything in this world."

He sighed, turning his face into her chest and pressing a kiss to her bare collarbone. Warmth spread outward from the area, filling her limbs with liquid heat. His soft lips trailed along the column of her neck, landing on her jaw before settling on her open mouth. A flame erupted in her heart and they devoured one another with unbridled passion. He echoed her profession of love, telling her just how much he adored her with words and deep, sensual kisses.

She inhaled his exhales, swallowing the sexy sounds he made against her lips. She felt a sense of peace wash over her as her fingers danced over the chiseled contours of his chest and abdomen. She needed him like she needed air, and her arousal pooled at the apex of her thighs, demanding attention. She whimpered, digging her short nails into the thin fabric of his cream shirt.

She felt the bed shift as he climbed onto it, his left leg swinging over hers until he straddled her thighs. His large hands gently cupped either side of her face as he continued to kiss her tenderly. Belle ran her fingers up and down his hard physique, shuddering when her nipples puckered into deadly points as her desire skyrocketed.

She was on the brink of submitting to her arousal and begging him to take her body roughly and passionately when a knock sounded on the heavy doors. Adam groaned, the sound conveying his annoyance.

"Every fucking time," he mumbled, pressing a lingering kiss to her bare shoulder before pulling the sheets around her naked body and sliding off the mattress. He sauntered over to the door - his long, lithe body easily gobbling up the distance between himself and the large double doors. She admired the shifting muscles of his taut butt as he walked away, wondering how she ever got to be so lucky.

Her prince opened the door and a short, round man stepped in, armed with a leather doctor's bag and a look that said he meant business. The two men exchanged a few hushed words before turning to face her.

"Lady Belle," the doctor said, bowing his head in a show of respect, "I must administer your final dose of the antidote and perform a full physical exam."

Her upper lip rose in disgust at the thought of the old man violating her private areas. Adam smiled at her, an amused twinkle in his eye as though he had read her thoughts.

"I'll be here the entire time, mon amour."

She conceded, nodding at the good doctor in a gesture of approval. The man waddled over to her and pulled a long, metal syringe from his leather tote. Cringing, she closed her eyes as he injected the sharp needle into her bicep.

She could only hope that his exam was less painful.

Hello lovely readers,

Thank you for your patience, I know it has taken me a while to update. I am working on a few other projects, mainly my original novels which are published to Wattpad and Inkitt, as well as my first novel being published through Amazon Kindle! I hope you enjoy this next installment, I will try to release the next update soon. I ask that as loyal readers, you please visit my Wattpad (ldmiranda220) and Inkitt (ldmiranda) accounts and show your support for my work there as well. I love to hear back from you guys, so if you read any of my novels please leave a review! As for this work, I will continue to update the story and work hard to bring you guys to a satisfying ending. Please don't forget to favorite, follow, and REVIEW!

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