Fable of Happiness (Fable #2) by Pepper Winters

Nothing.

I bowed over my knees.

Eight years of conditioning. A decade of loneliness. A lifetime of pain.

I’d done everything I could and it wasn’t enough.

I’d tried.

I’d died.

I was hers.

And she was about to ruin me.





CHAPTER SIX

“KILL ME, BUT I beg you, please don’t hurt them,” he whispered. Broken, bowing, utterly submissive in every way. “They had nothing to do with it. It was all my idea. Cut me, whip me, starve me, do whatever you want, just promise me you won’t touch them.”

I stood frozen.

My tiredness evaporated.

Shock and dread made me tingle with awareness. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t good. The man I’d fought with, slept with, and tried to save no longer existed.

He’d switched.

Changed.

His head remained lowered, his forehead almost touching his tied hands. His shoulders trembled, but there was a fierceness in him too. A burning fury that was barely hidden beneath his resignation and unbelievable defeatism.

I didn’t have a clue what to do.

How did you deal with someone who’d buried everything about themselves under the skin of someone you’d never met before?

My knees locked as I clamped both hands over my mouth. An ugly sob threatened to break free. I wasn’t equipped to help this man. I could make this situation a thousand times worse if I said the wrong thing.

“Say something!” he snarled. “Tell me you won’t lay a finger on any of them. Please!”

I jumped.

I couldn’t stop my tears.

Taking a jerky step toward him, I dropped my hands from my mouth and prepared to do whatever he needed. I would give anything, absolutely anything, to take away the stark terror draping him and replace it with peace.

“Please...” he moaned, swaying in place and once again fighting the rope. Two sides of his personality warred. The dominating man I already knew struggled to be free, but the humbled prisoner kept begging. “It was all me. I did it. You have to believe me. Leave them alone.”

I didn’t know who they were, but instinct guided me. They said if you caught someone sleepwalking, not to try to wake them. That it was best to go along with their delusion, gently guiding them back to bed and preventing the mind from cracking any further.

That was how I’d deal with this.

I would go along with his story until he either fell back asleep or woke properly.

“I—” My voice cracked, and new tears rolled. “I promise I won’t touch them.”

Instantly, his shoulders sagged. His bow turned into a prayer, his body rocking over his hands. “Thank you.” His whisper was barely noticeable, so lost, so quiet.

Keeping a safe distance from him, I tried to prevent myself from asking. But curiosity was fierce. Urgent. “Now that you know I won’t hurt them,” I breathed. “What did you do?”

He flinched and shook his head. “I killed them.”

It was my turn to flinch.

I hadn’t expected an answer.

And the ease at which he confessed murder ought to have horrified me. Instead, it solidified pieces I’d already suspected, already accused him of. “Who did you kill?”

He moaned under his breath. “All of them. Every member of Fables.”

My heart raced, desperate for more, hungry to know everything before he stopped answering. The more I could uncover, the better chance I had at helping his fractured mind. Also, beneath my urge to help lurked a sick inquisitiveness.

“What’s your name?”

He licked his lips. “Kas. I mean, Kassen.”

I sucked in a breath. My blood heated and sang.

Kas.

I didn’t know how much I needed to know his name until the second he gave it to me. “Kassen.”

He nodded once.

“And who are they? These people I’ve promised not to hurt?”

“My family.”

“Your parents?”

He shook his head. “No. My brothers and sisters.”

He had siblings?

And they all lived here? In this house?

“How many brothers and sisters do you have?”

He squirmed in the rope. “Is this some sort of trick? You know. You’ve paid your membership to play with us. To abuse us. You know all of us intimately.”

I choked on disgust.

So that was what this house was?

A sexual playground for bitches and bastards? A prison for innocence?

My hands curled in rage.

That was why it was hidden.

Why it had an aura of defeat and debauchery.

I couldn’t go along with this anymore. I couldn’t let him think of me as one of these heinous guests. He had to know he was safe. That he would never feel pain again.

Kneeling in front of him, careful to stay out of reaching distance, I murmured, “I’m not a guest. My name’s Gem. No one is going to hurt you or your family ever again. You have my word.”

His head shot up. Doubt widened his eyes...then suspicion clouded his face. “Is this another trick?”

I stayed as calm as I could, squashing the urge to grab his cheeks and force him to wake up. To listen. To remember. “It’s not a trick. You’re safe.”

“If I’m so safe,” he spat. “Why am I tied up? Where is my family?”