I flinched but then nodded. “That was my first intention, yes.”
She narrowed her eyes. “And now?”
“Now, I have others.” Balling my hands, I forced my legs to work and my unbalanced coordination to stay the fuck in line. I closed the distance between us slowly, laboriously. If she sensed what I was about to do, she’d bolt, and I wouldn’t have a hope in burning hell of catching her.
Keeping my face arrogantly blank, I didn’t stop until we stood so close, her body heat enveloped my ice. Ever since I’d woken and found her missing, I’d been cold. I wore a cloak of goosebumps and had icicles in my bloodstream. Those clues alone were enough to tell me I was in way over my miserable head.
But unlike my past where I’d been a martyr—where I’d accepted pain and desertion for those I loved—I was doing what I wanted this time. And what I wanted changed constantly. One moment, I hated this woman. The next, I couldn’t imagine a life without her. My body wanted her while my heart cursed her. My need bounced between throwing her in the cellar and grabbing her in a bone-breaking hug.
So many wants, so many twisted desires. I couldn’t untangle them all. I didn’t have the power or the mental faculties at present. All I knew was I wanted her to stay, to never leave, to always be at my side. Regardless if we hated each other until our final breath, despite the violent desire currently spitting and hissing between us that complicated everything.
I wanted her.
I wanted her company and her body. I wanted her strength and her sorrow.
I wanted to hibernate with another bear, even one who would likely claw out my eyes before winter was through.
I’m so sick of being alone.
Reaching out, I gently cupped her cheek.
She jolted and swayed backward, once again her instincts reading me correctly and warning her to run. Her eyes danced over mine, swirling with indecision.
My touch remained kind, gentle. My tongue licked my lower lip, and I forced my shoulders to slouch from threatening to imploring. Thanks to her reading me, I took care with what I showed, pretending to be a man who would sacrifice her happiness for his own.
To be a man who’d fallen from a cliff and woken up changed, whole, reborn.
A man who would kiss the girl he desperately wanted and then say goodbye.
But I wasn’t that man.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, shivering as I glided my fingers through her hair to the delicate indent of where her neck met her shoulder. My eyes dropped down her body, sending blood rushing to my cock and away from my addled brain, making me sway before her.
A single touch and we were both panting as if we’d been running toward this moment our entire lives.
Stop.
Gritting my teeth, I tore my eyes from her breasts and continued to her ankle. I had to know. My plan all hinged on one vital piece of information.
The cuff.
Still wrapped tight around her delicate ankle, still padlocked into place.
I smiled as I looked back up to meet her stunning stare. “You didn’t manage to undo it.”
She struggled through the need swirling between us, her eyebrows drawing together. “No, I—”
“Did you try?”
She licked her lips, chewing on honesty. “I did.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
I nodded, brushing my touch along her shoulder and neck again, searching for that perfect, assailable spot. The pressure point drawn in a diagram I found in a martial art book in the library.
The thing she hadn’t understood about me was, yes, I was a tortured soul living alone in the valley. Yes, I was more animal than man. And yes, I had many flaws and countless holes in my education.
However...
Books had been my saving grace. They’d been my only friend on those long winter nights and endless summer days. I’d read everything cover to cover, including topics that would help me defend myself if more enemies came to Fables.
My thumb found the spot, my fingers prepared to squeeze.
I bent to kiss her.
Her chin tipped up, stupidly trusting that I was as drunk on chemistry as she was. I wouldn’t lie. My head was swimming, and desire had replaced every inch of my concussion. I was rock fucking hard.
But I was looking at the bigger picture where I had a lifetime of seducing this girl. Whereas she was looking at a final, passionate goodbye.
Two people who belonged with each other yet continued to fight the inevitable.
Our lips brushed as I spoke into her mouth, “I’m glad you tried.”
“You are?” She kissed me back, her tongue flicking out to lick along my bottom lip. “Why?”
“You’ll see.”
I smashed my mouth to hers. I kissed her so damn hard.
She moaned.
I groaned.
And my fingers pinched hard around her carotid artery.
I kissed her while she kissed me back.
I kissed her while she began to thrash.
I kissed her as she gasped for air, then tumbled at my feet unconsciousness.
* * * * *
Well, what do you know?
It worked.
It worked so well, she’d been out cold for an hour before a soft mumble left her lips, and she twitched beneath the blankets I’d placed over her.
In that hour, while she’d remained in the forced sleep I’d granted, I tried to move her into the library—back to the bed she’d made for me. To swap our roles from patient to carer.
Unfortunately, my body had other ideas.
I was too weak to move her farther than the doorway. I was too light-headed to drag her across the marble or even carry her backpack to the corner where it belonged. Instead, I almost blacked out myself. I’d collapsed on my knees and seen stars, all while she’d slept like a corpse.
I didn’t know how long she would stay unconscious. The book had said some people stayed under for a few minutes to a few hours. I was on a tight timeline, so I had no choice but to abandon the idea of moving her and instead brought comfort to her. I placed a pillow beneath her head and slipped off her heavy backpack. I’d left her curled up in the middle of the kitchen and closed the door she’d tried to escape from.
And then, I used the rest of my meager balance and strength to climb up the stairs and enter Storymaker’s bedroom, where he kept the chain. Opening his drawer full of kinky apparatus, I clenched my jaw as the glint of metal winked in welcome.
My mind slipped.
I fell—
“Know what this is, Kassen?” Storymaker grinned. “Its name is Parable, and it will be your new best friend.”
I stood trembling, eyeing up the links of whatever fresh hell he planned.
Ducking to my ankle, where he’d already locked a leather cuff around me, he fastened another padlock to the shorter leash. With one snap of bondage, he increased the length by miles. My blood dripped down my legs, staining the leather and glittering red on the metal links.
“Ugh, someone get a bandage for Kas here,” Storymaker barked. “His whip marks are staining Parable.”
One of his guards strode from the library, no doubt going to fetch the kitchen maid and her box of medicine.
I could do with some medicine.
My body was burning up.
The twenty lashes I’d earned for stealing food for Elise and Nyx had come at a price. But I’d do it all over again. They were starving. He was working them too hard. I wanted to fucking kill him.