Chapter 19: Hopeless

"Hello, I'm Belle." Her words hung in the air and the name seared into his mind. Belle, his Savior. If Mrs' Potts was to be believed, she had come at last.

The woman was visibly shaken, both by his appearance and her recent illness. As the Beast stared at her, her chin raised another notch.

Brave girl, he thought, his hopes rising as he took a slow step into the room. She didn't move back as he came forward. She just blinked once and held her breath.

His presence made her uncomfortable.

"Hello." He paused and then tasted the word. "Belle."

His sharp gaze followed her every movement. Her bottom lip was pulled between her teeth. She gnawed at it and shuffled her bare feet. Her breath hitched with every inch he moved. The spicy scent of Belle's fear mingled with her natural flowery aroma caused his pulse to quicken.

"You fear me." He stated plainly, taking another measured step into the room.

The girl shook her head.

The Beast grunted slightly and surveyed the witch with piercing blue eyes. Her own hazel orbs stared back at him with fright, he could make no mistake about that, but there was also curiosity within them. The Beast rumbled in his throat loudly and turned away.

"You're small." He pointed out, accusingly. "And weak." When Belle did not respond, the Beast snorted and continued. "You spoke with my maid?"

It took a moment but the girl let out a shaky breath and whispered, "I have."

Her small declaration made the Beast's heart jump. A small flutter of hope played beneath his chest. He turned in the cramped space, pointing his horns to the ground at her feet.

His brows pulled together and the Beast inquired slowly, "And you saw her?" His voice vibrated deeply.

Belle paused for a moment and tilted her head before answering. "Y-yes, of course."

The Beast felt a sudden burst of energy fill his body. Finally! He thought as he looked at the doorway. Mrs. Potts should have been back by now. He rumbled under his breath in frustration. He was ready to begin. Ready to save his kingdom. His biceps flexed under his fur and his claws bite into the purple rug and marble underneath. He looked back at Belle and saw a strange expression in her eyes. Then he noticed that she was swaying slightly on her bare feet.

"Lie down," he ordered roughly, "before you fall down."

The girl shook her head and leaned a hand on the mattress. "I am fine, thank you."

She was not fine. Her skin was almost the same color as the cloak on the bed and her upper lip had a soft sheen above it. She was struggling. With a grunt, the Beast moved forward and swept her up and onto the bed. He felt Belle's small body stiffen in his hands and pull away from him.

The Beast stared at her for a moment before he moved back and crossed his arms. "Sit at least. What good is a dead Savior?"

Belle's eyes grew large and she opened her mouth to speak. Before she got a word out, his overdue servant came into the room. Mrs. Potts was all smiles as she bounced through the door pushing a tea cart.

"Here we are, my dear, a nice cup of tea." The sunny woman sang, moving to the bed. The Beast stepped back to allow her access to the girl. "Ah, I see you have gone and dressed. That's good." She prattled cheerfully, lifting an ornately decorated teapot filled with steaming amber liquid.

"Never understood those young people who can't dress them…" Her hands and words paused their work as she looked at the girl in the bed.

The Beast glanced up as the silence grew heavy and discovered both women halted in muted silence. The plump servant stood as still as a statue, her hands still balancing the pot in the air as she stared into Belle's wide and frightened eyes.. The Beast furrowed his brow and moved forward. "What is it?" he grumbled at both.

The girl started at his nearness. There was a moment of quiet when neither spoke, then Belle declared, clearly alarmed. "The, the teapot is talking."

It took a moment for him to speak. Confusion was written on the girl's face and he knew his own mirrored the expression.

"What?" He asked again, turning to Mrs. Potts. The older woman slowly lowered the vessel and placed it back on the tray. Belle concentrated on its movement with a bewildered expression. She raised a trembling hand to her head.

"Perhaps I should lie down," Belle mumbled under her breath.

"Master?" Mrs. Potts turned from the girl and stared at him helplessly. With a strangled sob, the troubled older woman dropped her head into her hands. "I thought…I thought… But she saw me! I know it!"

The Beast felt his breathing pick up. "You don't see her, do you?" He accused the girl with a snarl. He watched as Belle sunk into the pillows beneath her. Her face turned away from his as she squeezed her eyes shut. The Beast felt his anger engulf him and fought for focus. It was too similar to the night of her arrival.

Twice he had been fooled by this girl. Twice his hopes had been risen only to crash. He turned away from the bed, away from the object of his anger, and moved to the window. With a vicious thrust, he slammed open the glass and pushed his face into the frigid air. He willed his mind to calm. His brutal paws grasped the wood frame until it crushed beneath his grip.

"I'm sorry, Master. I thought…" His distraught servant began, her sweet, motherly voice dripping with pain. The Beast felt the weight of her sadness as heavy as his own.

"Mrs. Potts?" The words belonged to the girl. Both heads turned to her in surprise.

She had not moved from where he laid her and her face was still a mask of fear. The girl searched the room blindly. "Is that you?" She panted.

Mrs. Potts moved closer to the bed and reached for the girl's hands. Belle pulled back in surprise and sucked in a breath. Then she turned troubled eyes to the Beast and frowned. "What is this? I don't understand."

The Beast didn't respond. His eyes pulled into hard slits and a deep rumble reverberated deep within his chest. His massive horns swung as he turned to face her fully. He saw himself in her eyes, a Beast, a monster, and he was pleased.

The girl pulled herself to the opposite side of the bed, barely missing his stunned maid. She slipped her feet to the ground and stood with her chest heaving. She touched her forehead and swallowed.

The Beast and Belle locked eyes for an instant in the silence. Then she moved, quick as a fox. She snatched her cloak from the bed and dashed out of the room. Her steps were light and her long dark hair flew behind her in a veil of curls as she bounded down the staircase with frantic speed.

"Master? Master! She's leaving!" He heard Mrs. Potts words as if they were yelled down a tunnel. His mind was blackening. He felt the creature inside clench his chest and knew he only had moments before he lost complete control.

He began to pace. His muscles flexed and tore the tight shirt he wore. His fangs bared like white knives in the candlelight. Turning his steel blue eyes to Mrs. Potts, the woman who raised him, he pulled back his lips and snarled.

"Get out!" He told her.

For once, the woman didn't argue. She moved quickly and before long the Beast was in the room alone. He could still smell the girl. Tracking her would be so easy. So very easy. He needed to breathe.

With a manic growl, he pushed himself to the window. The cold air wrapped around his face but it wasn't enough. Grabbing the wooden frame, he pulled himself up and out. His claws stabbed the gray castle walls as he climbed. His muscles flexed and tore and he groaned with both pain and pleasure. It took moments to reach the top. Then he was at the pinnacle point of the tower. Soon he grasped a gargoyle within his terrible claws. His fierce gaze scanned the ground below him.

And there she was. Her horse was carrying her away.

The little deceiver.

His blood-lust was poignant.

Belle, he breathed her name.

The Beast snarled and imagined her beautiful face between his palms. He whipped his head back and forth and scrapped his horns on the bricks and iron. He wanted blood.

Then he turned his eyes back to the woods that she had disappeared into and saw them. Their red eyes glinted in the sunlight. Wolves.

With a monstrous roar, the Beast flung himself from the impossible height and landed against the wall of the opposite tower. His claws scratched and sparked down the building and he thundered his roar again. The sound bounced off the ebony bricks and echoed through the trees.

Howls came back in response. His mind was a haze of rage.

The girl was riding straight to her death, and the wolves had come at last.

A.N. All rights to Walt Disney Co

Hello, readers! Are you ready for some action? What do you think is happening next? What's the deal with these servants? Tell me your thoughts and Beast will look at you like you're dinner!

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