Of Beast and Beauty - Jay Stacey - Страница 31

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. Pelican beak. What a terrible piece of poetry.

That was nothing at all like a pelican beak, or anything like what I imagined

that would feel like, and … and …

I can’t think about it for another second or my cheeks are going to

catch fire.

“Are you all right?” Gem asks in a careful way that only makes me

more embarrassed.

“Fine.” I pull my knees to my chest and cover my face with my hands

and wish that Gem were the blind one. I would very much like for him not

to see me confused and vulnerable and lost in my own skin. I don’t know

this skin. It’s different from the one I’ve worn for seventeen years.

“Isra … I …” He clears his throat, and pauses for a moment so long

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?

No, Isra. I’m sure most girls bleat like sheep and set their boots on fire

when they first encounter a pelican beak.

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

queen, and—”

“Yes, I remember. You don’t have to put your nose in the air.” He has

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 am

not alone.

I sigh. “There are so many things I wish.” I lean into him, resting my

head on his shoulder, overwhelmed by everything I want to be different.

My life, my purpose, my death. But none of that will ever change, and what

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. Yet. You can change your world. You have that power.”

“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 Gem’s

hungry child, hitting me harder than it has before. He has a child, and I’m

still not much more than a child myself. I’m crazy to think we’ll ever

understand each other. “I’m sorry. I don’t want your people or your baby to

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 can’t. The people wouldn’t

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 know that isn’t

true.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything for sure,” I confess before I

think better of it, the pressure of his expectations making me anxious. As

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

you aren’t anything like what I imagined a Monstrous would be like, but

one of your people slaughtered my father. And I—I’m not like the rest of

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 corrupt?” 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’re not listening,” he snaps. “If you were, you’d hear how rattled

you sound.”

“I am not rattled. I’m trying to explain why I can’t rush in and change

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.”