He took the metal depressor in both hands and gave it a slight jerk, no more effort than breaking a matchstick, but it bent like it was hinged in the middle. I stifled a gasp.
“Unnatural strength. I’m not surprised. All humans have powerful latent strength, but normal bodies are conditioned to respect limits so we don’t harm ourselves. Because of your condition, you can’t harm yourself, so your body doesn’t register those usual warnings.”
“Can’t harm myself?” he asked, confused. “I thought I was normal now.” His dark eyes found mine. From the day he’d washed up on the Curitiba, all Edward had ever wanted was a normal life.
“You’re better than normal now,” Lucy said tactfully. “You can’t die.”
This news made him stand up anxiously, but the effort was too much and he had to sit back down. “How do you know this?”
“Hensley is the same way,” I explained.
He rubbed a hand over his face. There was a heaviness to the lines around his eyes and mouth that hadn’t always been there. I could imagine a small part of what he was going through—when I’d cured myself in London, the wracking pain in my joints was gone overnight. My hands—like Edward’s now—were mercifully still. Cured. And yet the Beast had seen straight through my supposed cure.
“Lucy, could you give us a moment alone?”
She hesitated only a second. “Of course.” She left the room, closing the door behind her.
Maybe the serum cured your physical afflictions, the Beast had said, but it didn’t cure the illness of your soul.
“I can’t imagine what you feel like,” I said softly. “But I hope you don’t hate me for bringing you back.”
He looked up from his hands. “Hate? No, I could never hate you. I know my feelings for you were rash when we first met. I had only been alive a few months, and you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. It’s taken some time to understand what loving a person truly means.” His head turned in the direction Lucy had gone. “Sometimes it must grow. And sometimes it’s quieter, less expected, not like how they describe in books.”
He turned back to me, looking more serious. “I’m grateful you’ve given me a second chance, though I’ll always be an experiment, won’t I? An aberration. Something made in a laboratory.”
I knew what it meant to be an aberration, but I’d never longed for a normal life like Edward had. I’d dreamed of an exceptional life for as long as I could remember. Ambitious, just like Father.
“Can I ask you a question?” I drummed my fingers nervously against my knees. He nodded. “After the Beast took over your body, he told me that I should be wary of Montgomery. That he had burned some files and a letter that my father had written to me.” I swallowed. “Do you know what he meant?”
Edward rubbed his eyes. “I’m afraid I don’t. When you cut the Beast out of my head, you cut out his memories, too. I might have known once, but not any longer.”
I let out a heavy breath. “I shouldn’t have even asked.”
“Montgomery is a good man, Juliet.” I looked up in surprise, and the corner of Edward’s mouth pulled back in a smile, though the movement seemed to pain him. “Even if he did try to kill me a time or two. I know he was only defending you. He and I have had our differences, but I can recognize a good heart when I see it, and if my blood had to come from anyone, I’m glad it was from him. If Montgomery is keeping secrets from you, it’s for a good reason.”
I spun the ring on my finger slowly. “The reason I must keep you secret today—it’s because Montgomery and I are getting married. After the ceremony, once things have calmed down and we are certain you’re well, I shall tell him everything.”
Edward nodded slowly at the mention of my wedding, unsurprised, and I wondered if Lucy had already told him or if he simply was too exhausted for strong reactions. He had loved me passionately once, but that time had slipped away sometime between his death and rebirth.
“I’m glad,” he said. “You deserve to be happy.”
I paused. “So do you.”
Lucy opened the door, peeking her head in and giving me a smile. “All the girls are downstairs looking for you, Juliet. It’s time to put on your dress.”
THIRTY
I HAD NEVER BEEN the sort of girl who dreamed of her wedding day. Instead, I had spent my childhood poring over biology books and stealing glimpses through the keyhole into my father’s laboratory. Marriage had felt so far off back then. The only man in my life who mattered had been my father.
I sat alone at the vanity table in my bedroom, looking in the mirror, a bouquet of dusky dried heather from Valentina’s herb collection at my side. The girls had rubbed rouge on my cheeks and powdered my entire face and pulled my hair up in a formal Highland twist.
A knock came at the door.