Light slipped through the tall painted window and across Kat's face, making her eyelids flutter. With a groan, she twisted and almost fell off the armchair. She managed to stick out her foot and prop it against the floor. Pins and needles climbed up her leg, making her wince. She needed a few more seconds to focus her vision and remember just why she wasn't in her bed.

She'd curled up like a cat in the armchair the previous night, ready for a silent vigil. Instead, she'd forgotten all about her quest and fallen asleep. She stretched, trying to loosen her aching bones.

As her body unwinded, so did her mind, and everything hurtled back in an avalanche of fear and confusion. The rose, the statues, the wolves. Cage.

She straightened into a sitting position, her eyes taking in the room until they stopped on him. He was still there, on the sofa, on his back, just like she'd left him. The portrait of Joey was empty. The fire no longer burned, dying embers filling the hearth, and the room was chilly.

With careful movements as not to make noise or fall over, she stood and stepped towards the sleeping form of her captor. Except he wasn't her captor anymore. He'd let her go, sent her away. It had been her choice to return, not to let him die in the forest. She could walk out right now.

Except she couldn't. Not after everything that had happened. The memory of his hands behind her knees had heat rising to her cheeks again. The way he'd looked at her and spoken to her last night...

Irrelevant. She had to make sure he was well. Once she reached him, she gasped.

The cuts on his chest... She could still see their traces, but unlike the bloody gashes they'd been the previous night, only thin white lines remained there, like fading scars. He'd somehow healed overnight.

Hope nestling inside her heart, she untied the bandage over his shoulder. Fear returned when she noticed that the bitemark on his shoulder was still a green and purple lump with fangmarks in it. This one obviously hadn't healed much and she wondered if she should apply more potion.

Since Joey wasn't there to confirm this, she didn't dare. She also didn't want to wake him up.

Not yet, because she wasn't done looking at him in the daylight. At his hair, so black it seemed to have blue highlights, at the lines of his face, the way the short stubble covered his jaw making him even more attractive. And now that she knew his eyes were blue, she could almost see their color everywhere.

This was unusual. She was not and had never been a shallow person. Had he been a stranger on the street, one not hiding behind a wolf mask, she'd have looked once, appreciated the beauty, and walked away. Never looking back, never giving him a second thought.

But now... She knew he was intelligent, well-read, kind, even if he tried so much to hide it, brave, very good with swords and so... Charming. And he cared for her, even if he never fully said it because he thought her hatred would save her life.

He'd locked her in a place the beast inside him couldn't reach. He encouraged her curiosity and intelligence. He made her better even if he tried to hide it behind snark and bad manners.

She stepped closer, watching his peaceful face. He must have been freezing. So she took his cloak off her shoulders and draped it over him. For a few more seconds, she just watched him, her heart thumping loudly. Fluttering. And yet, she was not a stone statue and it didn't make any sense.

The answer could be found somewhere inside that very castle.

Her mind made up, Kat exited the study and glanced at the portraits across the hall. Most of the inhabitants were gone, the frames showing the clumsy paintings. Joey's frame was empty.

Her stomach rumbled with hunger, but she had better things to do. Like understand how the curse worked and what could be done to either avoid it or break it completely. He'd saved her life. It was her turn to return the favor.

With her heart the size of a flea, she climbed the stairs to the west wing. The thought of seeing the statues in the daylight made her want to be sick, but doing the right thing was never easy.

So she steeled herself and entered the room in the tower.

Light from the archway shone on the statues around the small table. As Kat had expected, they looked even gorier in the daylight, their carved features hallow and lifeless.

Fighting a shudder, she turned her back on them and focused on the curse displayed on the wall.

Devourer of hearts all but your own
All that flutter for you unrequited shall turn to stone.

Yes, she already knew that part too well. And now it scared her more than ever. Because given the dreamy looks of the petrified girls, it was obvious that the curse had a certain kind of fluttering in mind. The kind that she now got in her stomach whenever she thought about him.

The fear had gone, leaving room to a worrying affection that might make her part of his collection.

But once she moved her focus from the stone problem, something else became even more problematic.

Devourer of hearts. What was that supposed to mean? Was it literal? Did the beast yank out hearts or something? She didn't think so. This had to be the reason for the curse, not an effect of it.

Storing the thought away for further analysis, she focused on the rest of the affliction.

And your pride, oh your pride that's drenched in blood
May violence rule all you have
Until it maims all good inside you
Morphs it into rage
A rage so powerful, a rage so pure
That it will destroy all you ever hope to love.

Kat stared. She rubbed her eyes and stared again, not so much to commit the words to memory, but to try and find another meaning to them than the one at first glance. Because she couldn't believe anyone could be so cruel.

But it explained everything. Why he wore the mask, why he was always rude, why the beast came out whenever he seemed to make progress.

He couldn't get close to anyone. Because if he started to care, if he dared return feelings so that the first part of the curse would be rendered harmless, the beast would come out to ensure his object of affection would perish.

How could anyone live that way? Destined to murder whoever loved him and whoever he may ever love in return?

Tears filled her eyes and she felt she could not read the last part. If it was even worse, she didn't want to know. So she turned around and left the room. As soon as she crossed the threshold, she sat on the floor and hugged her knees.

Poor Cage. Why had this happened to him? How could Cecile be so cruel?

And yet, her mind drifted to the effects of the curse, not its reason.

She was in real danger of either becoming a statue or, if Cage cared enough, to be murdered. Why wasn't she dead yet? The beast had come for her at least twice, and yet, here she was.

Why did he think that as long as she despised or feared him, she would be safe? When it came to the beast, the curse obviously referred to his feelings, not those of his targets.

Yet, all she could think of were her own. How did she even feel about him? She wasn't scared of him, didn't despise him, but... She shut her eyes, refusing to go beyond that because she was sure she wouldn't like what she'd find.

She was confused, that was certain. Why wasn't she running out of this castle when she very well could?

Cage had saved her from the wolves. It was true that he'd been the one to throw her out, but he'd had his reasons. He was right to want to keep this part of the castle closed. She'd been so much safer when she didn't know he was wearing a mask, when there was no danger of heart fluttering or shared affection.

He was trying to protect her. From the moment she'd set foot inside his castle, all he'd tried to do was keep her alive.

She wouldn't abandon him. She was brave, and resourceful, and she'd help him through this.

You have to know. If there's any way you can help, then you have to know.

With newfound determination, she stood, her fists clenched. Yes, it was easier to run, and she knew she could. But she wouldn't. Because this wasn't who she was. Who she wanted to be.

She strode back inside the room, completely ignored the statues, and stopped once again in front of the curse.

And your curse shall last eternal
Or until you grow the rose of perfect beauty
With thorns strong enough to kill the beast.

Kat let out a shaky breath. This was not another part of the curse, but a way to break it. And it explained all the roses, even if she doubted the meaning of the cure was literal. But then again, who knew?

Her eyes immediately darted to the floor. The rose she'd knocked over the previous night was still there. She rushed to it and picked it up. It was mostly whole, just a few petals missing. But what was she supposed to do with it? She turned it around and sucked air through her teeth once a thron pricked her finger.

"It's not literal, you know."

Kat jumped and turned to the door. Cage stood there, his shoulder leaning against the doorframe, the cloak draped around him, a smirk on his face. His arms were crossed over his chest which was still bare.

Her heart fluttered and she shut her eyes and gritted her teeth.

"What are you doing?"

"Waiting to turn to stone," she answered with all honesty.

There was a short pause before he started laughing. "One, if I were to turn you to stone, it would have happened last night when you saw me for the first time. And two, I don't think I could turn you to stone even if I wanted to."

She opened one eye, glancing at him suspiciously. "Why not?"

He sighed, but he still looked amused. By the gods, watching him just be real was so much harder than watching him sleep as far as heart fluttering went. He moved with such determination and grace.

Instead of answering, he strode to the curse and put his hand under one word: unrequited. "For this part of the curse to work, your heart must flutter. Like theirs." He nodded towards the statues.

Kat just stared, her brain stuck, her feelings a mess. Her heart was fluttering and yet, nothing happened. "I don't think..."

He shook his head. "Not out of fear. But out of--" He frowned as if he couldn't remember the word he wanted to use. "To put it bluntly, you turn to stone only if you want to sleep with me."

Heat shot to her cheeks and she was sure she looked like a blonde radish. "I'm not sure that's the case."

"Obviously, since you're not made of stone."

"No, I meant to say that I think the curse refers to people who are attracted to you."

He snapped his fingers. "Attracted. Right. That was the word I was looking for."

Kat tilted her head, a little confused that he was having trouble finding words since he was usually very articulate. But as she glanced at him, her attention fell on the word he had his hand over.

That made a lot more sense. He'd mentioned that he liked her so, since it wasn't technically unrequited, he wouldn't be petrifying her any time soon. But that meant... Her eyes trailed over the golden letters on the second part of the curse.

"Oh, yes, now that is the real problem."

"Why are you acting so...?" She didn't even know what to call it, but it felt like she was seeing the real him for the first time. No more tension, no more growling, no more masks.

Just an easy smile and breezy attitude.

"I'm high."

She tilted her head. "Do you mean tall?"

"No, I mean drugged. Though I'm tall too, I guess." He waited for her answer for a few seconds. "You're in shock."

That was an understatement. Everything she'd found out was crashing down on her from an incredible height and it made it very hard to focus.

"It's an expression I learned at sea," he explained patiently. "Opiates usually bring forth a state of euphoria which is why it is referred to as being high. I forgot you don't speak sailor slang."

"Why do you?" It was the first question that came to mind, even if maybe the least important.

He quirked an eyebrow and her heart fluttered all over again. "I was the Navy Admiral for years. I spent most of my youth at sea."

She hadn't known that. "So, right now you're..."

He nodded. "Yes. The potion you used on my Cusith wound has that side effect. I also popped some opiates to numb the pain a little. That means swallowed some," he explained.

"It hurts a lot then?" And why did the thought fill her with the need to hold him?

He took a pensive air as his eyes glazed over the curse. "Imagine a meat hook trying to permanently yank your shoulder out."

She shuddered and hugged herself.

"But hey, let's see the good in all this." He turned to her, an honest smile on his face. "At least you get to see the real me for a second."

She'd been right. The smile was a killer. It made him shine brighter than the sun. No wonder all those girls had swooned themselves to stone. She had to keep in her own very loud sigh of admiration.

Oh, damn it! She needed a distraction. He wasn't a piece of meat and liking him was obviously going to get her killed one way or another.

"So drugged you is the real you?" she asked instead.

"Not exactly, but the closest I'll ever get nowadays. You see, powerful drugs numb the beast, so I don't have to be on constant watch that I'm about to lose my mind and kill someone."

The ease with which he said it made her shudder all over again. Even if she'd suspected that much, it still shook her to have the confirmation that the animal-like thing growling, smashing and slashing was really him. Or a form of him at least.

"So why don't you stay drugged all the time?"

The smile turned bitter. "I tried. But opiates cause addiction and I'd still end up doing something... unpleasant." His eyes strayed towards the petrified girls. "You get reckless, you know. Damn the consequences." He shrugged. "The body gets used to it over time either way, so they no longer worked after a while."

She nodded since that made perfect sense. For a moment, she wanted to ask how long it had taken him to realize that drugs weren't a solution, how if happened, but she didn't feel like she could stomach the answer at the moment.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be."

"I am. You're in pain because you came to find me."

He shrugged again. "I'm used to pain."

Yes, of course he was, because the curse broke his bones. "It really hurts, doesn't it? When the... um, the beast comes out?"

He tilted his head, his eyes filled with curiosity. There was a bit of innocence there, of wonder, as if he'd discover something new and exciting.

"It does, yes," he whispered.

"Do your bones really break?"

"Not exactly. More like grow and rearrange, but I've had broken bones and the pain is fairly similar. Though, to be honest, it's the fangs that annoy me most. I can't count the times I've bitten my tongue."

A nervous laugh escaped her and she put her hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay to laugh. I would have too. We have to find humor in everything. "

She sort of did. And even if she ached for him, she was still glad she got to talk to him this way. Unafraid  that he'd suddenly decide to snap her neck, or sink fangs into her.

"Agreed. We need humor." Her eyes drifted to the statues for the fraction of a second and a devious plan formed in her mind. She couldn't not take advantage of this, just a little. "So, you like me."

"Whatever gave you that idea?" His hand was still under unrequited.

She nodded towards it and he grinned. By the gods, the man was illegally gorgeous.

"Oh, this? This word only holds importance if you like me first." He gave her a wink, the mischievous grin still on his face.

Damn. He was smart even when drugged. She just shrugged and decided to go another way. "How long have you been cursed?"

"Eight years."

Huh, that didn't seem too long. Though it was about the time her father started slipping and her life became so much harder. She was twelve then, and so much happier. The bitter taste of better times filled her mouth so she pushed the thoughts away.

"And when's the last time you..." Her eyes drifted towards the sculptures again. "Built a statue."

"Seven years. It took me a while to work out how the curse works. It's also when I started wearing that dreadful mask, because my last target was a poor girl who wandered off and saw me in the grounds." The bitterness in his voice made Kat want to hold him again.

"So you've managed to find a way around the first part of the curse." Her eyes drifted to the second. "Any luck with this one?"

He waved his hands around. "Yeah, no people."

"It must be horrible, knowing you're destined to live without love. Without a family," she whispered.

"Love? Family?" He raised his eyebrows. "Kat, it means being nowhere near anyone. This isn't about romantic love or family. Why do you think this castle is empty? That I can only talk to my friends and former servants through portraits? No one can be here. No one is safe from the beast." A sadness overcame him and at that moment, she couldn't help it.

She strode to him and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her head to his chest. The beat of his heart was fast and erratic, but the heat of his body, the feel of him was amazing. For a second he stood stiff, then his arms encircled her and pulled her against him.

"You're killing me," he mumbled into her hair.

"Better than you killing me."

"You're just taking advantage that I'm drugged out of my mind."

"Yes, I am."

"Why does that make me like you more?"

She giggled, though tears had filled her eyes. "I'm sorry to say this, but I like you more drugged as well."

He detached her from him, an honest smile on his face. "It has been years since someone hugged me."

"Glad to provide, then." She glanced over her shoulder at the curse. "And maybe I could provide more."

"A way to break the curse?" He let her go completely and turned to the inscription on the wall. "Haven't I tried them all?"

"What do you think it means?"

He bit his lower lip as if he considered whether to tell her or not. However, drugged Cage was honest Cage, so he finally shrugged off the doubt and said, "I think the rose is a person. But I'm not exactly sure how I could grow one. My first thought was that I need to have a child who would be so much better than me. But the curse prevents any of that from happening so..." He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's a vicious circle never meant to end."

"I think it's a person, too."

Except, as crazy as it sounded, she thought it meant her. Growing didn't necessarily imply giving birth to something. But if her guess was right, she couldn't tell him. Because otherwise, the beast would probably murder her the second the opiates wore off. Not that it wasn't already a very possible outcome.

"So... Are you going to continue teaching me things?" she asked, keeping her tone as nonchalant as possible.

He raised an eyebrow. "Teach you things? Kat, this is the