This was tender, uneven ground. With every passing second, the witch was becoming more and more on edge. Such rising turmoil at the base of her spine, climbing one vertebrae at a time, it didn't make sense to her at all. Half of the feelings she could not label or recognize, but they felt like distant shadows of betrayal, hurt, and anguish. Wherever this strange unfamiliar feeling was coming from, she didn't like it.
The Beast chose the wrong moment to make such an ill-advised request of her. When he spoke, the witch spun as if she'd been struck by his claws rather than his words. The thick hem of her cloak fanned out in a shadowy, wide circle.
"NO!" Her voice was an angry clap of thunder that rattled the windows and sent volumes of books flying from one of their bookshelves, as if swiped loose by an invisible and violent hand.
"I can, but I won't. You'd do well not to test my generosity tonight, pet! I have half a mind to keep you in this state forever, now that you're so.. kind.. and brave."