Two months had passed. Now, it was the final day of this month.
The sun dipped low on the horizon, its golden rays stretching across the Blackmere estate. But time meant nothing to Elias Roderick and Antheia as they sat alone in the lavish palace drawing room.
Their eyes were locked—his, filled with reverent admiration; hers, glowing with sensual fire.
Suddenly, Antheia raised her delicate hands and signed swiftly:
"Roderick, do you love me as much as you claim?"
He smiled and replied in the same silent language:
"Never has a woman been loved as deeply as I love you."
Her expression softened, but a hint of sorrow shadowed her gaze.
"And yet, I am broken. Deprived of what most women use to express their hearts."
Elias took her hand.
"But you are beautiful beyond words. I can only imagine how divine your voice would sound, saying 'I love you.'"
Her lips trembled. A sigh escaped her. She pressed against him—and wept.
For a long while she cried, and he held her through it. When her tears ceased, her kisses turned fierce, hungry. Her passion burned hot beneath her skin, blooming red across her neck and chest.
At last, she looked up and signed with a shy intensity:
"I have a foolish request. Say 'I love you'—softly. Let me read the words on your lips and pretend I've heard them with my ears."
Elias nodded. Slowly, gently, he whispered, "I love you."
The effect was instant. Her entire face lit with joy.
"And I love you, Roderick. With all my soul," she signed, throwing herself into his arms once more.
But before their lips could meet again, voices echoed from the room beyond.
Elias stiffened and gestured a warning. Antheia read it in his eyes and nodded. They stayed still—watching, listening.
"I don't know how it happened, Lily," came Theseus's voice. "So soon after our father's death, and still in mourning—I shouldn't be saying this, but I can't help it."
"My lord, I shouldn't be here," Lily's soft voice trembled. "I never should've followed you into this room."
"I needed privacy to tell you what's in my heart," Theseus continued. "I love you, Lily. Truly, deeply. I couldn't keep it in any longer."
"I... I don't know whether to feel joy or sorrow," she whispered. "Your love is a gift, my lord, but how can a humble girl like me be worthy of it?"
"You're worthy of everything," he said. "And I don't care about your station. Love should never be measured by rank or gold."
"But you have family.... Antheia," she murmured. "She might not approve..."
"She will," Theseus said firmly. "She loves me too much to deny my happiness. And if she does protest, then she does not know the man I've become."
A pause. Then Lily's quiet assent:
"If we must keep this secret for now, I will wait."
"Not for long," Theseus promised. "Soon, everyone will know you are the woman I love."
Their voices faded. Lily's footsteps retreated first. Then Theseus's.
In the other room, Elias let out a breath. Though the words weren't meant for him, he had heard everything—and couldn't help but glance at Antheia.
She smiled, but something flickered beneath her surface: irritation... jealousy? Perhaps it was simply frustration at the interruption.
He said nothing of the conversation. She didn't ask.
But just as he leaned in to kiss her once more—
—it hit him.
A flash. A surge.
A memory. A curse.
A terrible truth he had momentarily forgotten.
The sun was about to set, on the last day of the month.
Elias staggered backward, face pale. Horror twisted his features.
Antheia reached for him, eyes wide with concern. She begged silently, desperately:
What's wrong?
But he couldn't answer. His soul was cracking. His breath came in gasps.
Then—without a word—he bolted.
Antheia rushed to the window.
The dying light bathed the garden in gold as she watched him vanish among the trees, sprinting toward the river like a man chased by death itself.
She didn't know why.
But he did.
For when the final sunbeam of the month disappeared...
The beast would awaken.