The Beast slipped in and out of consciousness as Bo ordered around the Service-Matons. She had some fetch hot water, light the fire in the hearth, fetch a needle and thread, and find any medicine they might have in the mansion. She received the water, fire, and sewing kit, but no medicine. Seemed the old prison wasn't as well stocked as she'd originally thought. At any rate, the Service-Matons seemed to have all returned by now, which meant the wolf problem must have been taken care of.

Cleaning the Beast's wounds took virtually forever. After sewing the fifth wolf bite mark, she began to wonder if she'd ever get them all closed. His skin was a patchwork, and she had her own painful wound making it particularly hard to concentrate on neat stitches. It didn't help matters that he was already covered in tough scars, making it hard for her needle to puncture the skin.

She leaned over his torso, trying to finish up a row that ran across his ribs on the opposite side to her, when she felt him stir. In her awkward position, she had to glance under her arm to see his face. His eyes followed her movements.

Snipping the string, Bo sat back and cleared her throat. "You're, uh, pretty much patched up now," she said. "Haven't gotten the ones on your back. But you were laying down, so..."

Without her having to ask, he sat up and slowly turned himself around so that she could get at the expanse of his back. He winced the whole way, and his breath caught more than once. The wolves were powerful hunters. He'd probably have a few bruised or broken ribs to add to his flesh wounds.

"Not so many on this side. I think most tried to get at your neck." She prodded the worst of the lot, a bite mark that looked as if the wolf had been torn from the Beast's back without letting go of its chunk of skin. A gaping gash still leaked blood in rivulets down the hollow of his back and into the top of his pants. Bo quickly stuffed a wad of cloth against it while she prepared the needle.

"Here," she said, taking his hand and pushing it up against the fabric to keep it in place. "Hold this."

Dipping the needle into the hot water still boiling on the fireplace, Bo rethreaded and then began her work once more. She was glad the Beast wasn't being talkative. And that he faced away from her. Somehow she felt awkward and uncomfortable, as if her heart was beating too hard. She cleared her throat and tried to remember how she'd felt about him just a few weeks before.

The Beast propped himself up with his arms, his eyes squeezed shut as she pulled his skin back together. Bo pressed against one side of the wound, coming into constant contact with that slight electric charge that ran through the Beast's skin. It felt almost comforting now, to be able to feel that energy pass from his blood to hers. But as soon as she thought it, she shook her head to dislodge any more such thoughts.

She was drawing the needle through his skin when he spoke.

"You came back." His voice rumbled through his back and up Bo's arm. She bit her lip and shifted her position once again.

"I thought you were gone forever," he continued.

"I wasn't," Bo said, but couldn't think of anything else to say as she hastily filled the wound with messy stitches. She leaned in and bit off the thread, and then tapped his shoulder to let her know she was done.

"Thank you," the Beast said, the skin around his eyes going tight as he shifted on the sofa until he found a comfortable position to sit in. His chest rose and fell with a little difficulty, and Bo noticed a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Though he was now conscious, he was still fighting against a major loss of blood and the after effects of an exhausting fight. If Bo felt like she'd been crushed by an airship, then she didn't even want to know how much pain the Beast was powering through.

"There's no need to thank me," Bo said, scooting to the opposite end of the couch and perching on the very edge. This end tilted sharply to one side due to a damaged leg, but somehow she'd rather hold herself up on the inclined cushions than sit any closer to the Beast. She kept her eyes trained on the flickering fire in the hearth and tried not to think of his leg just a few inches away.

He spoke again. "You're injured yourself, yet you saw to me first. That deserves appreciation."

"No, if I hadn't been stupid enough to get caught by wolves for the second time, then you wouldn't have had to save me."

"Yeah, it was pretty stupid to fall asleep in the forest.

Bo cut him a glare and rolled her eyes. "Oh, whatever, like you wouldn't have taken the risk after traveling all day, either."

"I absolutely wouldn't," the Beast retorted. He tried to laugh but stopped when pain racked through him. He grimaced and pressed against his ribs with a hand.

Bo stared at the way her stitches glistened in the firelight. "How did you even know where I was?" she asked, glancing up at his face.

"One of my Service-Matons said that it had been ordered to tell me someone was coming from the Dead Woods. I hoped... I thought you might have been trying to contact me. I searched its memory and found that it had been accessed by a remote device, and then I tracked that device's last known location. It led me to you."

Bo bit her lip and twisted her hands in her lap. She didn't want to bring up the one thing that was on her mind, but she knew she had to if she didn't want to explode. Keeping her eyes trained on the ground, she launched into it. "I saw something on that screen you gave me. Footage. From your old life."

The sofa cushion dipped as the Beast shifted his weight. "Ah. I didn't think you'd know how to access the files." He was somehow entirely too calm.

"It was an accident, actually. I dropped it."

He was silent for a moment. "I am not proud of those days. They were a nightmare. Hell."

Bo sneaked a glance at his face, catching a hollow look in his eye and his blue skin blanching to muddied gray. She sucked in a slow breath. "Why do you have footage of those days, if they're painful to you?"

"Because, I want to remember how my people treated me. I wanted to know why I acted in such a way. But, also... I still did the deeds. The people I killed and the destruction I wrought are all stained into my hands," he said. "I sometimes try to forget I ever did them, but that isn't fair to the memories of those I killed. I have to remember, otherwise I really am nothing but a beast."

"Did they make you into a beast because you're part human?" Bo asked.

The Beast smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "Oh yes. A failed experiment must be put to good use, especially when the generals did not want the experiment in the first place. If I died, it was good riddance. But I could be useful in the meantime."

"That's horrible," Bo said, her voice quiet.

The Beast shook his head. "I probably should have died during that time. I could have saved many human lives if I had just given up. No one would have mourned for me, though other families had to face life without the person they loved."

Bo didn't say anything, and the Beast continued.

"I understand now. They were loved. The people I killed. Their families loved them. I had no idea what that meant, until recently," he said. "But you told me what that love was, and now I understand. I know what it feels like to want someone else to live instead of you. I understand what it feels like to be left alone and in the dark."

Bo bit her lip. "It's not fun, huh?" she asked, laughing shortly even though she felt a lump in her throat.

"If I wasn't doing penance for the lives I took, I'd never want to be part human. This love is the worst emotion. I am glad no one feels it for me. I don't deserve anyone to suffer for me like this."

Bo shook her head. "You've been loved. I saw that picture of your mother holding you. She held you as if you were the most precious thing on the entire planet. She loved you, and I'm sure she never wanted your life to go the way it did."

"She must have suffered so much," the Beast said.

"You don't remember her?"

He shook his head. "This picture is all I have." He reached over and pulled the photo out from under a stack of books. Bo saw her own face for a brief moment, and realized her photo and that of his mother were the only two things in the room to have escaped destruction.

He held the picture of his mother in front of him, his finger trembling. Bo looked over at the sadly smiling woman holding her baby close.

The Beast handed her the photo and looked up at the ceiling. "No, I lie. I know one other thing about her. The name she gave me."

"You have a name?" Bo asked, only realizing then that she had never bothered to wonder what he was called.

The Beast nodded. "But I am the Beast of Lyx now. My mother's name is something from a life I never lived. I do not use it."

"That's not true. The name is yours. Your mother wanted you to have it." When he didn't respond, she returned the photo to him and lay a hand on his arm. "What was the name?"

The Beast glanced at her with uncertainty. For once, Bo was the one pulling information from an unwilling source. Now she had an inkling of the nervous flutter the Beast must have gotten each time he asked her about her family.

"It was Adam," he said. He pushed away from the sofa, limping toward the fireplace.

"It's a nice name," Bo replied. "It means 'man'."

The Beast sighed sharply as he leaned against the mantelpiece. "Perhaps it was her wish for me. That I had been born a man, instead of a crossbreed with no hope of belonging to either side."

"I think her hope would have been that you were raised with people who cared about you," Bo replied, startling herself with the conviction in her voice.

The Beast glanced at her over his shoulder. "Sometimes I wonder if she might've been like you. Tough, a survivor."

"I thought I annoyed you," Bo said, raising an eyebrow.

"It's not always a bad thing." He flashed a brief smile before his face returned to that lost look as he stared into the empty air.

"The thing about mothers is that you don't have to have them with you to feel their presence," Bo whispered. "Even if they're as far away as you can imagine, somehow, someway, you can feel them if you really try. A breeze when you're alone, or a feeling of peace when you're deciding something difficult. Like a warm hand guiding you, even if you're alone and scared."

The Beast's shoulders tensed. "Your mother was killed by my people. You said that, right?"

Bo nodded, wordless, even though she knew the Beast couldn't see her. He continued as if he had.

"Will you tell me what happened?"

She couldn't believe she was about to, but something inside of her wanted to release that memory. Her broken promise and the sound of her mother's voice as the dust had swirled around them... Yes, she wanted to finally tell someone what it was like to watch her mother die because she had been too cowardly and stupid to save her.